#unleashing my drafts: continued

[heybaetae]

ethereal ✨ for @jung-koook cr. namuspromised

[bloodxhound]

hi i’m still on hiatus ♡

[verus-animus]

Hot Massage

"P-Please... S... S... Stop..." Jeremy tried to plead desperately, but his numb lips and face made it incredibly hard.

"Shhh... Don't speak. You'll only waste your energy." I shushed the handsome hunk that laid beneath me. Opening another bottle, I poured out the clear serum and massaged it into his firm chest. It quickly began heating up and his skin soften slightly.

"W-Why....." He asked. I could tell he was trying desperately to make his large muscles move, but unfortunately all it did was twitch his fingers.

"Why? I don't know, Jeremy... Maybe it's because of all those years back in high school that you bullied me and completely ruined my reputation and any chances of me getting into a good college, or maybe it's because of the 'accident' you caused which burned half of my face off... What do you think?" There was definitely a hint of anger within my voice, but I quickly calmed down and continued massaging his warm pliable chest.

"...I-I'm s-sorry...." He really meant it this time. Unlike all those other times he said it in front of his peers. But it didn't matter anymore.

"A bit too late for that, Jeremy... Even if I have forgiven you for all those years back then, the serum has already reached its full effect. There's really no going back now." I smothered my hands against his rippling skin and felt how they slowly began sinking into him. Into his flesh.

"...no...ah..." He gasped, as he felt me invade his very flesh. My elbows disappeared as I got closer and closer to his anguished numb face.

"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. Once I push my head inside and overlap my brain onto yours, you'll never have a thought of your own again. From now on I'll control your every movement, your every breath, and your every heartbeat. It'll be my rugged hands running across these perfect pecs, my juicy ass squeezing dildos deeper inside, and my handsome scar-free face hungrily licking up all the residue from the bathroom mirror."

I gave his glazed-over eyes one last look and pushed my lips against his soft ones, before I plunged my entire head inside his. His fingers clenched together and he began gasping for air, as I moved around inside him and positioned myself correctly. As soon as I settled down my mind suddenly exploded with all of Jeremy's memories, dreams, and aspirations. I felt them embrace me and flow into me, until I felt myself own them as if they had always been mine.

I opened my new eyes just in time to see the last of the rippling effect on my new large chest settle down. As it did, I felt a torrent of unbridled cum unleash itself underneath the warm blanket.

It was done. Jeremy had taken everything from me back then; my life, my reputation, my future, my face... Now, I've taken it all back; the successful life, the promising future, and even the perfect face. This was a brand new start for me, the new Jeremy...

Happy New Year everyone! Thought I'd pop by and let you all know that I'm still around. I haven't been feeling very inspired lately, and with a lot of things going on in life I haven't really taken the time to properly write. Still, I thought I'd give you all a treat with this older draft I made a while back. Hope you all enjoy it, and perhaps you'll hear more from me this new year! /Verus <3

[swizzlemynizzle]

Underneath the Noise - George Clarke

—————————————————————————

Masterlist

Chapter 8: I’m Not Going Anywhere

—————————————————————————

She wakes up on the sofa.

A blanket she doesn’t remember grabbing is tucked around her shoulders, and George is slouched in the armchair opposite, hoodie bunched under his head, one leg half off the footrest. His phone’s still in his hand. The screen’s gone dark.

It takes her a second to remember. The stream. The comments. The silence that followed.

And then him.

Showing up without asking. No theatrics. Just grounding hands and a steady voice in the dark.

Her throat feels raw, but not from crying. More like she’s been holding something in for too long and finally let go.

George stirs, blinking at the ceiling before his gaze flicks to her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she croaks.

“You okay?”

She nods, slow. “Bit embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.”

He sits up, stretching one arm over the back of the chair. His voice is quiet, but sure. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She shrugs. “Still feel like I cracked in front of a live audience.”

His brows pull together. “They don’t count.”

There’s a pause. Then, softer: “You scared me a bit.” She glances at him.

“I’ve seen you stressed,” he continues. “But last night—that was different.” His fingers tap absently against his leg. “I just kept thinking… I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong either,” she says.

His eyes meet hers, something unreadable behind them. “Still.”

And maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just residual adrenaline and sleep deprivation. But his voice sounds heavier than usual. Like seeing her like that—shaken, mute, unravelled—has unsettled something in him.

She clears her throat, attempting levity. “You planning on standing outside my flat every night just in case I freak out again?”

His mouth tugs up. “Was thinking of installing a panic button.”

“Very on brand. Streamer Emergency Services.” He grins, just for a second. But the softness lingers longer.

—-

A new message pops up on her phone.

Chaos Goblins


Chris:

just saw the clips from last night. who the hell do we need to fight


Bach:

name and address. I’ve got a shovel.


Hilly:

I’ve started writing a diss track


ATV:

I have an email drafted to Twitch. it’s just the word “ban” 500 times.


George:

she’s fine. I’m handling it.


Y/N:

I’m fine. really. appreciate you all. just need a day.

Chris privately messages her two minutes later:

Chris:
you don’t need to act chill for us. we’ve got you.

She lets the kettle click again before replying.

Y/N:
I know. thanks. also please don’t post a revenge video unless it’s tastefully edited and contains at least one slow-mo ferret montage.

His response is a ferret GIF and a heart.

—

By midday, they’re both at the boys flat.

She hadn’t planned on going, but George hadn’t exactly left room for debate. Just casually said, “We’ll grab food after,” like the past twelve hours hadn’t happened.

No one says anything at first—just the usual mess of filming prep, too many limbs and not enough cables. But she can feel it in the way the others glance over. Bach offers her the good chair. ATV hands her a water bottle already opened. Even Hilly, usually full gremlin mode, drops a quiet, “You alright?”

She nods. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Chris eyes her for a beat longer than usual. “If anyone gives you grief again, send them to me. I’ll unleash the hobbit memes at full force.”

“Please don’t,” she mutters, lips twitching.

George doesn’t say much. But he stays close. Not hovering—just quietly there. Their shoulders brush when they sit side by side. He hands her a mic before she can reach for it. Makes a face when she catches him glancing over.

And maybe no one else notices, but she does.

The way his tone softens when he addresses her during filming. How he nudges a snack toward her without saying a word. How he pauses before making a joke, like he’s checking the landing.

Like he’s still thinking about last night.

She is too.

Not just the bad parts. But the moment everything cracked and someone stepped in—not to fix it, but just to sit with her in the quiet and say I see you. I’m not going anywhere.

And for the first time since the bingo night, the knot in her chest starts to loosen.

Just a little.

But enough.

———

Taglist

@madforgeorge

@wherethezoes-at

@sundarksposts

@clarkey4life

@edgyficuselastica

———

Next part incoming back to back posts - happy Easter to those who celebrate 💛💛

[alllgator-blood]

I need to ask, because of it I CAN'T SLEEP AT NIGHT.

How do you make, not only long comics, but also VERY FAST. Like- I read one part that has 2/3 like pictures and then next day are again 2 or 3 and I'm like grabing my head and just screaming HOW??? (Also these comics are very yummy and I feel like getting stabbed after each one but in a good way cuz I like being stabbed (Kallamar got a bit too relatable in that one comic 💔))

THAT'S REALLY IMPRESSIVE AND ALSO SHOCKING FOR ME. Like- what is your secret??? 🤨🤨🤨

HAHAHA OH GOD I DID NOT THINK I WAS VERY FAST BUT- I'll try to do a list of tips I thought of off the top of my head, in case any of these help you or anyone else??? I try to not gatekeep anything I do because I think the world needs more comics honestly, so I tend to ramble a lot when giving advice.

click the read more to unleash many paragraphs of tips:

Okay these tips aren't 100% about being fast but also being efficient/keeping a good pace, I hope that's okay!

1: Originally the first tip was "draw every day even if only a little bit, so you don't lose steam" but I'm sure everyone has said that at some point. So I'll just say I Pavlov myself into drawing better by having little "rituals". Liiike...the only time I have energy drinks is when I draw. Or the only time I light candles is when I draw. I have specific songs I put on when I START drawing to get me into the Zone. I find that when certain circumstances are met, it helps the time fly by 'cause I stay focused enough to keep a steady pace. After a while of doing those things when you start drawing for the day, it tricks the brain into going "oh shit, we're drawing now? aight bet" and then you just. Go

2: SETTING DEADLINES FOR SURE HELPS. It's definitely nice hearing from people that there's no Real Pressure on me when I post comics...for free...of characters I have no obligation to draw...just for the enjoyment of doing it. BUT I work best when I have a fire lit under my ass, so I set deadlines like "I need to post this on saturday/sunday at noon so the algorithm will actually let people read this comic". I usually slip those into a description so it's a very casual announcement and I feel okay with postponing it if necessary, rather than making a text post like "NEW COMIC SATURDAY!!1" and then feeling terrible if I can't finish it in time. Lmao

3: I just fuckin GO when I make a draft. Like for this new comic I'm working on, I just sat down and started drawing like the world was gonna end; there's a lot of panels with very off model characters/wonky anatomy because I just wanted to sketch enough for future me to get the idea. I try not to look back on my progress for any reason besides continuity, because then I see how long the comic's getting and I sweat bullets. Literally so many comics have been ditched because I got spooked thinking about how hard it'd be to finish them. So if you just shut your brain off and don't think about the technicalities of it, just keeping mind the story you want to tell- it's SO much easier to complete. Breaking comics into parts is ABSOLUTELY necessary for completion :')

4: Maybe the most important piece of advice I learned from a published comic artist, is that people are gonna look at your comic panels for an average of like 10-20 seconds and will move on to the next. You don't wanna spend hours on a single panel that basically only exists to convey a tiny bit of the plot. So I like to draw just *enough* to convey the general environment/mood, but not feel obliged to put in a million little extra details. I really hate doing backgrounds but my art, to me, feels incomplete without them. So I'll add like PART of a room or a general Nature area just to say hey, this takes place in the temple/outside/whatever! As long as your story is engaging and the pacing is comfortable, I don't think people will mind (or notice) if you take shortcuts.

5: I listen to specific things to help maintain a good speed while not being distracting or understimulating. During the sketch stage, I usually have something slow/instrumental going so I can focus on the little movie that plays in my head and draw what I feel like a scene would look like. It also helps not distract me from what they're saying. For tasks like lining/coming up with color schemes/reworking dialogue, I have something more stimulating playing but not like distracting, so a video essay I've already watched or fast music I already heard a lot of times. THEN for the absolute fucking slog that is the coloring stage, I blast shitty breakcore or put on an actually interesting video so I can zone out while I click my mouse ten billion times to fill in all the colors >:)

Basically, comics are funny to me because it's like a frantic fucking race to the finish line before your motivation completely abandons you. There's been a few comics where I was ABSOLUTELY sick of even looking at them, I think it was specifically "in little ways, everything stays" where the comic itself is sweet and inoffensive but OMFG. I WAS SO TIRED OF DRAWING GRASS AND REWORKING DIALOGUE. KALLAMAR AND LESHY JUST HUG IT OUT ALREADY SO I CAN STOP DRAWING.

This post probably reads like "I HATE COMICS!! I HALF ASS THEM TO GET THROUGH!!" but I really do love making them and it's kinda the only thing I like doing nowadays, so the other aspect of why I get them done fast comparatively is just that it's what I spend all my free time doing. Some comics take weeks of me working on them daily to finish them, because working on them is my main coping skill rn so it always feels worth doing. I know it can't last forever so I try to just get as many stories as I can out before my circumstances change! Maybe don't be motivated by fear of the future though. Just do these because it's fun and people love reading your comics :') I KNOW I DO

In any case- here are the lines for the beginning of the new comic, I KNOW you love the funny squid so here's mine as a kid flexing on narinder for being able to summon his crown weapon:

[cupids-diner]

The creation of harmony - Alex summers

Rating: fluff

A/N: I’ve been like super busy, plus I got a boyfriend. I have been working on more stuff, this has been sitting in my drafts for like ages.

Alex Summers, also known as Havok, had always felt like a walking storm. His power to unleash devastating plasma beams, fueled by cosmic energy, made him a force of destruction. He tried to control it, but every blast seemed to unravel more of him than he could contain. He’d seen enough damage in his life to know that sometimes it was best to stay distant from others.

That all changed the day he met you.

It was a crisp fall afternoon when Alex found himself at a remote training facility, hidden deep within the woods. Charles Xavier had suggested he come here to work on his control, to find peace with the chaos that roiled inside him. But peace was something Alex wasn’t sure he would ever find. That is, until you showed up.

You were sitting on a large, flat rock by a stream, hands gliding through the air. Small, glowing orbs floated from your fingertips, transforming into intricate shapes—a flower, a bird, a tiny glowing tree. Your ability to create from nothingness felt like magic in comparison to his destructive energy.

Alex watched, mesmerized. The contrast between you and him was startling. His very presence had often turned beauty into ruin, yet here you were, making the world around you bloom with life. He felt an odd pull, a need to be near you, to understand how you could be so calm, so at ease with your powers.

He approached cautiously, unsure of how to start the conversation. You noticed him before he spoke, your eyes meeting his with a gentle curiosity.

"You’re Alex, right?" you asked, your voice soft but clear. "Havok?"

"Yeah," he replied, feeling a knot of tension in his chest. "And you are?"

"(Y/N)," you introduced yourself, smiling slightly. "I’ve heard about you. Your powers… they're intense."

Alex braced himself for the usual wariness people felt around him. But instead, you continued, "It must be hard, balancing all that energy."

He let out a breath, surprised at your understanding. "You could say that. Destruction isn’t exactly a talent that makes people feel comfortable."

You nodded thoughtfully, your fingers still weaving through the air, creating tiny light sculptures. "I get it. But I think destruction and creation are two sides of the same coin."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Without destruction, nothing new can come. It’s like clearing a forest to make room for something new to grow," you explained, your hands falling to your sides as the glowing objects drifted into the breeze.

"Except my destruction isn’t always controlled," he muttered, thinking about the damage he’d caused in the past.

"Maybe you just need the right balance," you said gently. "The right company."

At first, you kept your distance. Despite the strange connection you felt, you couldn't deny that Alex was, by nature, destructive. His powers could obliterate things in an instant, while yours gave life and form. It was unnerving to think about the clash of energies.

But over time, as you continued to train together, you realized something. Around you, Alex’s chaotic energy seemed to settle. His blasts became more focused, more precise. It was as though your presence grounded him, kept him from tipping over the edge into uncontrollable destruction.

And Alex noticed it too. He found himself drawn to your calm, your sense of purpose. You weren’t afraid of his power like others had been, and that gave him the confidence to trust himself more. The more time he spent with you, the less reckless his energy became.

One evening, after a long day of training, you sat beside him by the stream where you had first met. The sky above was filled with stars, casting a soft glow on the water.

"Thank you," Alex said quietly, breaking the silence.

"For what?" you asked, glancing over at him.

"For helping me realize that maybe I’m not just a walking disaster," he admitted. "That with the right balance, like you said, maybe I don’t have to be so destructive."

You smiled, reaching out to create a small, glowing flower in the palm of your hand. You offered it to him, the light reflecting in his eyes.

"We all have our roles to play," you said. "Yours might be destruction, but it doesn’t have to define you. Not when you can choose who to surround yourself with."

Alex took the glowing flower, watching as it pulsed gently in his hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

Maybe destruction and creation weren’t opposites after all. Maybe, together, they could create something new—something balanced.

And as Alex looked at you, he knew he wanted to keep finding that balance, with you by his side.

A/N: I have more stuff in the works, also I found out that a bunch of Batman movies on Tubi

Moodboards:

Aetherweaving!reader

[misslovasstuff]

stylist!sanji x fem!reader

summary: Sanji makes you a nice dress. Of course he is quite excited to see it on you.

warning: contains nsfw, praising, penetration, dirty talk, aftercare, vanilla…

author’s note: this has been in my drafts for too long, hope you guys enjoy!

“You made this… for me?” - your eyes sparkle with joy as you stare at the dress your boyfriend had crafted specifically for you. There was no occasion or need for it. Actually when you asked him why is he gifting you this, he simply answered:

“Can’t I spoil my princess a little?”

Your mouth drops as you approach and observe it closely. The color, the fabric, the cut… everything was perceived as you wanted it.

Of course it would turn out perfect. Sanji designed it with only you in mind, he breathed life to this dress with the idea and hope to seeing you wearing it. He didn’t even take your measurements, he didn’t need to. Your man knows every inch of your body and made the dress to fit those pretty curves of yours perfectly, he was certain.

“Love, don’t you want to try it on?” - he asks, taking his glasses off and putting on the table nearby, leaning his hips against it while crossing his arms with a smile.

“I don’t think that was a question now, was it?” - you mirror his smile and start making your way to the dressing room when a cough interrupts your pace.

“Mhm?” - you turn around, confused.

“It’s only us in this place. You can dress up here. - Sanji smirks, tilting his head as his eyes scan you from head to toe. - You know, just in case you need assistance.”

“So professional of you, love… it’s so hot when you’re so dedicated.” - you say, raising an eyebrow and smirking back to him. - Sure, I’ll try it on right here.”

The blond’s heartbeat fastens as he swallows hard and licks his lips. You begin by hanging the dress close by. It’s not hard to notice his eyes fixated on you, so you try your best to maintain eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt slowly.

one, two, three…and there it was.

nothing would have prepared Sanji for the view he has in front of him right now. You weren’t wearing a bra and your whole chest, bare chest, was exposed to your boyfriend who seemed to gasp under his breath as he takes a strong grip on the table’s corner.

“Fuck, babe… going out like this? - he takes a step closer towards you but is soon stopped by facing your palm, signaling him to stop.

“You said you’d watch in case I needed assistance. Do I look like I need help?” - you widen your eyes and smile, lowering your hand and continuing taking off your shirt completely. Your hair moves along and then falls gracefully on your chest. You sensually push them back, letting your hand trace the skin of your neck as you close your eyes for a second, feeling quite satisfied with the way Sanji was holding his breath whilst looking at you.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what you look like… - Sanji says, his chest raising and falling a bit faster as he registers every move of yours in his head. - You look like you’ve had some sort of intention since the beginning, knowing you’d come here and see me.”

“Let’s just say you’ve been in my head all day.” - You respond to his remark and continue undressing, now grabbing your skirt that was up your waist and slowly pulling it down. It falls on the floor and you stare at it for a while.

“Oops, don’t want to make a mess.” - you say, bending over to grab the skirt from the floor, providing Sanji with a full view of your ass which made him bite his lip and unleash a bit his collar which felt so restricting in this very moment. However it wasn’t the tie that leaving him out of breath. It was taking a whole lot of power for him not to move forward, not to touch you and give in to the temptation of tracing your lines with his fingers while his lips leave signature kisses on your warm skin.

“Yes, better not get too messy, sweetheart. - Sanji says, picking a cigar out of his pocket and lightning it. He puts it between his lips and exhales the smoke while looking up and down at your body. - Need some help with those tights?”

You gulp hard, your heart beating faster once you realise that once he touches you, even the fire of a thousand cigarettes could never compare to the flame that arises once his breath alone tingles your lips before he kisses them.

“Yes, please.”

Sanji finally approaches with a smirk.

“No need to beg yet, sweetheart.”

He puts the cigarette back to his lips and kneels down, looking up at you. In response you smile, a bit of blush appearing on your face.

“What a view… no matter from what angle I look at you, my heart always stops and only starts beating again when you give me that smile.”

He pats his thigh for you to rest your foot. You don’t hesitate in following his command, however your mind was going crazy when you stare at him for a bit. He looked so hot; his tie was a bit unleashed, revealing his chest so subtly. His gorgeous hands ready to touch you, his eyes that were gentle yet hungry came over you. Not to mention his lips that held the cigarette, whose smoke reached your nostrils but you were used to that now.

“Good girl.” - he says, tracing your legs with his fingertips, going all the way up to your inner thighs where he stops and parts them away. He gets a small gasp out of you. - Now now, what is this reaction?”

You take a hold of his tie as he squeezes your right inner thigh, almost sticking his nails into your skin. Then he slaps it, grabbing it and pulling you closer. His hot breath is now between your legs. You can feel his smirk as his mouth approaches.

You run your fingers through his hair right when you thought he was going to eat you out. However, Sanji had other plans in mind.

He backs away and tilts his head up to look at you.

“Having second thoughts?” - you provoke him, meeting his piercing gaze.

His hand travels up to the back of your leg, right under your ass cheeks. With his other hand he takes his cigar and exhales the smoke up to you, while looking with such a hot expression on his face.

“Second thoughts? More like thinking about a hundred ways I could fuck you good right now.”

You blush tremendously, your body frozen in place.

His hand now grabs your butt, squeezing it and then climbing higher to your back, pulling your tights down gently.

The tights go down and are accompanied by his hand tracing your bare skin left behind which send shivers down your body.

Once they’re off, he takes them and puts them away.

“Beautiful.” - he says, planting small kisses on your thigh while caressing it.

Just as you’re about to get turned on, Sanji gets up and exhales the smoke once again while lending the dress to you. This man was teasing you and clearly enjoying it.

However, you don’t give in to his teasing, thus you take the dress and wear it, pulling it down and fixing your hair after. It fits nicely and the color looks great on you. However, Sanji looks sceptical about it. You notice him by looking at the mirror reflection. He approaches from behind you and says:

“Now, love, that’s not the final look. Come here.”

Sanji is one of those men that guides and leads you gently. Now, he smirks under his breath, tying the ribbon behind your back then touching your hips, pulling you closer to his body, making you feel his excitement.

“Crazy how I put you in this myself and want you out of it right now, so badly…” - Sanji places a kiss on your shoulder, the tip of his nose tracing your skin, giving a tickling sensation.

“Sanji…” - you breathily moan his name, tilting your head as you run your fingers through his hair, feeling his lips buried deep in the skin of your neck.

Those pretty sounds of yours flipped a switch for the blond, picking you up and resting you to the table, parting your legs nicely to make room for him.

His arms stand firm on both your sides, surrounding you as his body hovers over yours. You put your arms around his shoulders, staring deeply into his eyes.

“This isn’t very professional, making out with your girlfriend in your studio…” - you tease, taking his cigar from his mouth and sucking it. The smoke you exhale is all over his face, to which he gives a satisfying smirk.

“I’m testing the product, wanna see how flexible it can get.” - he pulls you by the waist and you arch your back, surrounding to his presence.

He takes the cigarette out of your mouth and throws it away, crushing his lips with yours as your hands run around his back.

You moan in his mouth as his tongue explores yours, his kisses taking your breath away as your hands clench to the fabric of his shirt.

“I guess I wasn’t the only one thinking about this all day. - you tease, caressing his lower lip with your thumb. There is a moment of intense eye contact before you start feeling his smile under his breath as he’s kissing your skin all the way from your jaw to your collarbones, making you leave out small moans that always give him an instant turn on. Fairly, everything about you does. To add a bit more gasoline to the fire, you whisper in his ear:

“Tell me, out of those hundreds of ways you were thinking of fucking me, which one do you like the most?” - your whispering voice sends shivers down his body as he pulls you in even closer to his embrace, giving a hickey on the nape of your neck then kissing it gently. You were slowly turning into a moaning mess.

“What if I say I liked all of them, would you know why that is?” - he says, his hand travelling up your neck and taking a light grip to it while his piercing gaze was on you.

With a shake of the head, your eyes go down his shirt where you reach out to unbutton it. However, Sanji grabs your chin so your eyes are fixed on his.

“It’s because in all of them, you’re screaming in pleasure.”

You bite your lip, feeling like his eyes were eating you alive.

Sanji gets back, hands away from you as he watches in satisfaction you unbuttoning his shirt, letting his bare chest be visible to your eyes that had gotten dry before seeing it.

He doesn’t move and just observes what you’re going to do next, how much you want him and how desperate you’ve been all day for him.

Your mind is all foggy, so much so that reason has left and has made space only for desire. You grab his belt and pull him closer, feeling his sex pressed against yours. He groans and soon your lips press against his as your hands caress his wide chest then lower abdomen which when you touch, Sanji leaves out a small moan and takes a strong grip on your hips.

“So sensitive today, - you whisper, planting small wet kisses on his chest. - I love it when I hear you moan like that.”

“Ah, love… - he whispers in your ear, brushing his fingers through your hair. - you’re getting me so worked up.”

Sanji kisses you deeply, holding the back of your head, slowly sliding it down on your shoulders where he runs his fingertips through your forearm before grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He keeps kissing you, now your back pressed against the table as Sanji hovers over you, breaking the kiss for a second just to look at you.

“Beautiful… - he says breathily before going downwards to your chest, kissing and gently biting your skin. - … so beautiful…”

His hand follows his lips. Sanji caresses each place he bites until he reaches your breasts which he grabs roughly. You let out a moan, calling his name seductively:

“Sanji… - his eyes gaze upon yours and he gives you a cheeky smile. - i…”

“You’re blushing. - he points out, rubbing your nipples with his thumbs while maintains eye contact. - Does it mean you like it this way?”

Sanji raises an eyebrow, grabbing your breasts tighter as he devours one in his mouth. The way his tongue moves around it and his lips pull it makes you go crazy. You caress the back of his head, whining about how right he was about you.

His other hand goes down your body, gently tracing your skin down to your thigh.

“If that’s what you like, - he leans in, whispering. - I’ll give it to you.”

Sanji grabs your thigh and pulls your legs up his waist. Your private parts grow even closer that even a slight movement makes both of you lose your minds. A bit of initial friction earns a groan from your boyfriend who adjust himself nicely at your entrance.

Although you can’t see, you feel his arousal growing close to your panties as he parts your legs even further.

“Fuck me, - you say under your breath, - ohh I need that so badly right now.”

Sanji listens, giving you a smug grin:

“Need what?” - he teases, putting his hand under your dress where he grabs the sides of your panties, pulling them down.

You bite your lip, covering your face with your hand as you feel your cheeks blush.

“Need… - you try to blurt out what you mean but Sanji’s gaze on you made your heart skip a beat and words stuck on the throat. - … fuck…”

You cuss out, Sanji tilting his head with a smile as he teases your entrance with his already hard length.

“You’re so frustrated, love. - he keeps teasing, seeing how needy you felt. He had a satisfying smile on him, knowing your relief would come soon. - Speak to me. Tell me what you need.”

He raises your chin, making his eyes meet yours. You gulp hard, feeling his warm hands still having a grip on your thighs while his dick is already halfway in.

“Sanji… - you keep moaning, clenching your hand to the table corner. - … I need you to… fuck me in this pretty dress you made for me.”

Your boyfriend bites his lip, now entering fully in you as he grabs your hips.

“Good girl, - he says, leaning closer to you, leaving it in before making any move. He makes sure to read your expression and act accordingly but now your face is expressing the dire need to be praised by your boyfriend so now he’s even more eager to completely be in you, completely pleasing you. - so good that you’re getting so many presents today.”

You’re so spoiled by him, in any way that you can ever think of. Even when times when the blond teases you, he does so because he knows you like it.

Now Sanji starts thrusting in you, groaning a bit as your walls adjust to his size. His hands which are on your hips travel slowly down your thighs, where he caresses them.

“You’re the greatest piece of art this studio can ever have.” - he says between heavy breaths.

The pace is slow yet so satisfying cause you feel his movements completely, deeply, with a level of intimacy only Sanji can provide. There is time for you to observe and take in all the pleasure. You always loved the way he starts, proving how romantic and gentle he is, at least at the start…

“My precious, - his breath gets heavy, - my precious love…”

As the pace increases, Sanji grabs your right leg, putting it over his shoulder. It was unexpected but the position made you gasp of how great it felt. You feel him in places you haven’t before and it’s driving you crazy.

“Ahh, love… - you scan his formed biceps and reach to hold them. - … is this right?”

You ask him as you part your legs further, moaning.

“That’s right, love. You’re doing so well.” - he moans, feeling ecstatic with every thrust which reached deeper inside you.

He kisses your inner thigh, bites it while groaning and then looks at you. His gaze is weakened by the immense pleasure, yet his eyes show pride and hunger.

“I’m …doing well aren’t I? Ahh… - you say between loud moans, - I’d do everything for you.”

Sanji pushes his head back, hands pressed agasint the table as he picks up the pace. Now you feel his hot breath agasint your neck as he keeps pushing you on the edge.

“When you say things like that to me… I lose all control.” - Sanji takes a sight grip on your neck, whilst looking deeply in your eyes, both heavily breathing.

“Lose it on me, I can take it all.”- you widen your mouth with every gasp that leaves it, whispering his name while grabbing his shoulders, pulling him closer to his embrace as you bite his skin.

“Of course you can. You’re my good girl, you’ve proven over and over how well you handle my cock. - Sanji says with a tone of voice that seems sexier than ever, especially when you glance at the expression on his face that his drunk with pleasure, eyes covered slightly by his messy hair. - And fucking you like this… goodness… I won’t ever be able to sleep again.”

You smile, pulling his face closer to yours, exchanging a long kiss, so needy and so steamy that emphasised even more the hunger you have for each other. Sanji smirks at the way you completely devour his mouth, feeling your nails digging on his skin.

“Love, please, I’m … so close…” - you manage to blurt out as your lover’s thrusts are becoming more and more powerful, much deeper and so satisfying.

“I’ll let my good girl cum all over… go for it, sweetheart.” - his reassurance and his usual word of endearment that now more than ever sounded like it truly belonged, made you reach your climax, followed immediately by his. You swore you would have came for a second time just by seeing Sanji reaching his high, his groaning and strong grip on your body, there was a sort of aggression that was attractive to you, one that comes after such a good relief.

“so good to me… you did so well.” - sanji caresses your cheek with the back of his hand and places a gentle kiss there.

“Was the dress flexible enough?” - you say lightheartedly, moving strands of hair away from his face.

“Need to go through more tests, I think…” - he smiles, pulling you up from your position and placing you in his arms.

“Thank you, Sanji, for loving me like this.” - your words vibrate on his chest as you rest your head there.

“I was made with such purpose, like this dress is made for you only.” - although your words caught him off guard, he can’t deny the happiness he felt upon hearing them.

You look up his eyes and smile, biting your lip as you drown your face in his neck.

“I love you.”

Sanji’s heart completely melts, hugging you even tighter.

“I love you too, my precious. Too much, I love you too much.”

That studio of your stylist boyfriend had yet to see wilder encounters like this one, but one thing is for certain: Sanji gives a lot, not always expecting something in return. And you? You give him what he needs the most, to be loved and cherished, you give the artist what he envisions in his head. ‘My muse’ he’d call you multiple times a day, so much that even the sketches he makes for his clothes would often be associated with your appearance, unconsciously so. Sanji praises and doesn’t expect any in return, but you’re always appreciating his hard work. It comes naturally that he wants to make you happy, for you are both two sides of the same coin, people who give so much when they’re in love.

[makeyoumine69]

Neglected

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x fem!OC; CW: SMUT, FFM (kinda), established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, breeding kink. Links: [MASTERLIST]; Song Rec: Jordin Sparks - S.O.S. (Let The Music Play); A/N: Sorry I've been away for so long, my gaming hangover is hitting hard, so I decided to post one of my drafts I'm writing for myself with my OC named April. Also, don't mind me using x reader tags since x OC tags seem to be dead. Anyway, ignore it if it's not your stuff. Love you all!

Panting, April tugged at the tie that bound her hands and wouldn't let her move. "Stop...please...Bateman...don't do this...not like this!"

But Patrick just chuckled and spread her legs, almost ripping her panties off and thrusting into her dripping slit in one swift stroke.

"Fuck," he growled, pulling out completely and then thrusting in again, longing for screams. "My little fairy... has such a tight pussy..."

The woman moaned loudly in response, so Bateman had to stick his finger in her mouth to shut her up and allow her to use it as a pacifier. Just as Patrick was about to lie on top of her and pin her to the bed, the door to their yacht suit swung open and Vanessa, his uncle's girlfriend by the way, stepped inside.

"Oh... what a scene," she murmured, putting a finger to her mouth, obviously enjoying the sight. "Mhmm... can I join you?"

Almost instantly, April pulled away from Patrick as she tried to cover herself, expecting her husband to tell Vanessa to go away, but instead he stopped in his tracks and examined the blonde with undisguised interest.

"I'm not surprised...I can tell you've been thinking about this all evening," he crooned, ignoring the way April writhed beneath him. "Uncle Vic doesn't satisfy you quietly enough?"

Vanessa leaned against the door. "April's such a lucky girl," she snapped, twirling a stray curl around her manicured finger. "So lucky that she can't even understand it...and that means she doesn't deserve you."

"Oh... really?" Patrick asked mockingly before he put his big palm over April's mouth to silence her objections. "You think you can do better?"

Wiggling like she was lying on burning coals, April was about to bite Patrick's finger, but then the man plunged his thumb into her mouth again, a gesture that was something very personal and intimate for both of them. Confused, she blinked several times and looked at him - the confidence he radiated was breathtaking - and she couldn't help but stop fighting him when his lips curled in a way that he was about to blow her a kiss.

"Let me handle this, honey." He whispered so only April could hear. "And then we can continue."

Meanwhile, Vanessa tapped her foot impatiently, the red nails of her hand almost scratching the wooden door. Such insolence only spurred Bateman to prolong the pause, as he relished the way he could keep women on the edge of their nerves.

"You know what," the man began, his face grimacing in disgust. "You can take your flat ass and get out of here right now and maybe... just maybe... I won't tell my uncle about this episode." 

Vanessa froze in shock, the gleam in her big green eyes fading. "Excuse me? What...what did you just say?"

Scowling, Bateman took a deep breath, fighting the urge to unleash his fury on this pathetic bitch. "I said...if you don't leave right now...I'm going to fucking kill you!" Patrick almost screamed and before he could get up from the bed, the woman was gone.

Groaning in annoyance, the man went to the door and closed it, then returned to April, who was lying on the bed crying.

"You...you really sent her away?" She asked in disbelief. "I thought...I thought you would allow her to join us."

Bateman stroked her cheek before kissing her lips. "What a bullshit," he chuckled softly, drawing an invisible line along her bound forearm, "I need you, April...only you," he purred, licking her lips and nibbling at them barely sensibly. "Now...I want you to be...my obedient little fairy...would you be good for me...would you do anything for me?"

April gasped, his words stirring something strange in her, something she thought was impossible for her to feel, "Yes...sir...I would." 

"Good girl," Patrick murmured, his voice a gravelly purr as his fingers traced the tears on her cheeks before sliding down her trembling body. "That's what I like to hear." He cupped her chin gently, lifting her face to meet his gaze. "I'm all yours. Always remember that."

Patrick's touch became more aggressive as he repositioned himself between her legs. His cock, still slick from earlier, found its way back into April's tight warmth with brutal ease. 

Biting her lower lip, the woman bucked her thighs up from the fullness he gave her without mercy. "Pat-Patrick...a-awww..." her voice cracked and she almost clawed at her skin, trying to free her hands. "Sir...s-sir...it's so deep..."

Bateman rolled his hips against hers, pinning her under his heavy frame as he slammed into her, the slap echoing off the walls of her yacht suit. This woman, moaning directly into his ear, was his everything in every possible way, and if he were to breed her, she would be irrevocably bound to him. His love, his obsession, his greatest sin.

"No one else...can make you feel the way I do..." he growled low against her neck, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust that made her gasp in response. "You belonged to me..." he reassured her in that cold, yet soothing tone, filled with twisted satisfaction. "You're all I want!"

As Patrick shifted their positions so that they were now on their sides, he drove deeper into April's yielding form, fucking her sideways. Then he slipped a hand between her legs to vigorously stimulate her clit as he continued his relentless pace, her body writhing with conflicting sensations - as embarrassment turned to arousal - creating an unsettling yet unmistakable chemistry.

"I'mma  c-cum..." April cried out, leaning back against his massive chest, tensed and covered in sweat. "I...f-fuck...I'm cumming!"

"Yeah...give it to me," Patrick spurred her on, thrusting even faster into her wet cunt, their mixed fluids spilling out with a wet, shameless sound. "Let it go...let it go like a good girl you are..."

His soft praise added to the fire of their passion, causing her body to quiver, but as he nibbled at her earlobe, she lost it completely as her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, crashing everything in its path. The tightness of her inner, velvety walls around his pulsating dick was too much to handle, though Bateman did his best to last longer, wanting to fuck out every little shock of her climax.

"God...you're so perfect," he squeezed her breast through the damp material of her dress. "You're gonna give me a child...I fucking swear..." Bateman whispered into her ear as he choked on his breath, almost reaching his peak. "Remember...my word..."

Closing his eyes, the man snuggled up to her with tremendous force, nearly shattering her bones as he rode out his own release, spurting his warm seed deep into her womb, making sure not a drop was wasted. April could feel every vein on his dick throbbing inside her, or it was just her clouded mind, for she couldn't even remember where she was.

He owned her, on every level and even beyond.

Spent and exhausted, they both collapsed on their backs, panting and gasping for air. Only after a few minutes did the man remember his tie wrapped around her wrists, and with an almost genuine tenderness, he released her hands and kissed them one by one. With her eyes closed, April just sighed and lay on his chest, seeking protection and he was only too willing to give it to her. 

His fairy, so small, so helpless. Intoxicating.

As they lay there for a while, Bateman looked up at the ceiling, listened to the waves crashing outside the yacht and absentmindedly painted little circles on his wife's bare back, who didn't even realize she was drifting.

But after almost a few minutes, April woke up lying on Patrick's solid chest, his breathing steady, but somehow she could tell that he was not asleep. "Patrick?"

Bateman shifted, leaned in closer and kissed the top of her head. "Yes, dear?"

"Do you remember our wedding?" April asked, looking up at him. "Are you...are you happy you married me?"

"Of course I remember our wedding, April," he replied softly, his voice like silk over steel. "It was a grand affair...fitting for us."

Her question about happiness made him pause. His happiness didn't conform to conventional notions, but April didn't need to hear that truth. Instead, he leaned into the persona she needed.

"I wouldn't have married you if I weren't sure you were the one," he continued, sincerity in his tone. "Our lives aren't perfect, but we fit together in ways others can't understand." His fingers lightly traced her cheek, a gesture that teetered between tenderness and possessiveness. "We're bound together... by more than just marriage," Patrick whispered darkly against her forehead. "You complete me."

As April clung to him, seeking comfort in these spoken reassurances, Patrick felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. Manipulating love into dominance was an art he had mastered to perfection.

"I guess... I can say the same about you." The woman murmured and yawned, hugging him tighter.

Resting his chin on her head as if offering comfort, Patrick allowed one more phrase to slip from his lips, almost tenderly. "You make me who I am...Now rest, tomorrow we go riding."

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[omg-what-a-freak]

South Park Boyfriend Scenarios

I wrote these scenarios when I was like 14 LMAO I didn't make any changes except taking it from my Wattpad drafts and posting it here. If anyone is interested, maybe I'll rewrite and revamp :P who knows. Please be kind because this is sooo bad but I see the vision she was going for

CARTMAN :

"Get out you creep." You scowl to Kenny, a smirk on his face. He only chuckled, walking away from the scene proudly. Cartman groans, holding a bag of popcorn even though you were on the bus. "Awe man! I wanted to see good old ken boi get his ass beat."  Stan rolled his eyes and adjusted his coat before spitting out: "Shut up fat ass and put the food away. I don't think you can afford getting another detention." Kyle sighs and looks out the window. "Can you guys shut your mouth. My headache is getting worse because of your fighting all the time." Cartman mocks immaturely, shoving everything into his backpack. "Stupid Jew."

You put your headphones in, turning up your music more. This is an interesting mix of kids as a whole. Not sure how you should feel.. Maybe excited, maybe interested, maybe scared. The only thing that comes to your mind when looking up and seeing Cartman throwing a hissy-fit is: this is going to be a long bus ride. 

KYLE:

You sit silently, the start to the day was kind of awful. You got out of bed in a hurry, not realizing it was time for school. Your hair frizzed, your socks didn't match, you only had a jacket on and you were practically freezing. You held your arms close to your chest, trying desperately to warm up. At the next stop a boy in an orange parka sat beside you, pulling down the zipper just enough for him to talk. "You seem cold, I could change that up for ya." He smirks leaning in a bit. 

You respond blatantly with tilting away slightly. "What's the catch?" You ask accidentally, but play it off like you meant to say it. "Just a little study time, if you know what I mean." He flirts. You roll your eyes before shaking your head a bit. "Uhm sorry I have nothing I need to study for so please get out of my seat." He opened his mouth to continue but, a different orange coat landed in your lap. "Kenny stop harassing her." Stan says and Kyle continues by pulling him out of the seat. "She can have mine so stop and find a more gullible girl."

You look at a the boy with no coat. "If this is yours I can't accept this..." You half whisper with a blush covering your face. He chuckles, "Just put it on before Cartman eats it." He says, making Cartman flail. "Shut up you stupid JEW!" You smile and slowly put on the warm coat. This day might not be awful after all.

STAN:

"Babe, we can work through this!" Stan calls out sadly, holding his arms out waiting for her to come back. "Don't call me babe." Wendy says, salt stinging Stan's emotional wound. "We aren't meant for each other." She says before moving slowly up the bus, leaving Stan hopeless. 

Kyle set his hand softly on Stan's shoulder, shoving him slowly into the seat with him. You sighed and looked at Stan before looking away. That's a great way to start off the first day of school. I bit my tongue and let out a side. "Are you okay?" I ask quietly but, he doesn't answer. "He's fine. This happens every week." Cartman says scornfully. This unleashed WAR.

Stan slapped Cartman in the face, leaving a red mark on his cheek. Cartman let a hellish scream unleash, it sounded like it was coming from a demon. Next thing you knew Stan got kicked in the back as he turned around to walk away, and landed over top of you. You both blushed as Kenny and Cartman laughed obnoxiously. He quickly got off of your lap and sat back with Kyle. Great way to start the school year.

KENNY:

You adjust your hood and look down to your feet as your music blared in your ears. The bus was full of people who knew each other... Unfortunately, you knew no one and wasn't planning on meeting anyone either. It's not like you didn't want to, it's just that you were too exhausted; emotionally and physically. The bus stopped slowly, letting four boys get on. Cartman and Kyle were going at it, calling eachother names; it was starting to heat up. Kenny followed Stan, who sat with Kyle. Cartman filled up the last seat greedily, exaggerating that there was no more seats. 

"Oh no... Kenny.  There's no more seats... You could pay your way into my seat... If you weren't poor." Cartman laughed, taunting Kenny. You take in a deep breath, you tried to ignore what you heard through your music but it wasn't going to happen. You grab Kenny's wrists and pull him in the seat beside you. "Sit here, every other seat is full. One is over filling though..." You glare to Cartman continuing the insult even though you didn't want to. "With greed, oppression, and body fat." 

[berserker-syndrome]

Chapter 4 Teaser.

I wanna up my teaser game for upcoming chapters.

When I write I start with jot notes, then I add in the script for the dialogue and following that I start actually filling in the prose of the chapter.

The end result you've been getting so far is my first draft. My next step is to swing back around and flesh out the chapter with better environment and character descriptions, which ultimately is what I would prefer to be publishing in the case of a fanfiction.

You're getting the first draft because I'm so damn eager to encourage you to keep reading that I'm rushing through my work and publishing the incomplete first draft. I would like to stop doing that, but I would also like to continue giving you something to keep you hooked, so here's what's going to happen.

Along with the mood board I'm going to give you a glimpse of an intriguing scene that is still at the jot note/dialogue scripting phase to make you hungry for what's to come.

I also really enjoy sharing my creative process - kind of like when an artist shows off their early sketches of a piece of work. Hopefully this will also help stop me from giving you these subpar chapters in the future.

Sound fun?

Here's your Chapter 4 teaser.

---

It’s been a month since NeoBorg were seized by the NWO at gunpoint. This part will open with a description of what the NWO is to Borg, discuss the bio-weapon project briefly, and focus on the struggles the boys are having readjusting to the military environment.

Yuriy and Sergei are standing between Boris and another member of Borg, trying to keep them from ripping one another apart.

Yuriy: “Both of you, knock it off! This isn’t the abbey! Leave that dog-eat-dog bullshit in the past. We've gotta start trying to get along here...”

Boris: “Somebody needs to put that smug bastard in his place!”

Yuriy: “Someone will, when that attitude inevitably gets him killed on the battlefield. Walk away. Now!”

They successfully break the two up, just in time for a guard and an accompanying doctor to poke their heads in the room.

Guard: “All good?”

Yuriy: “Yes, sir.”

Guard: “Good. Borg weapons, line up.”

A shot of Neistovycaine is administered to the 10 Borg Weapons in the room. Ivan complains of how bad it stings and mutters:

Ivan: “Do they gotta keep us on this stuff? They know so long as Koscheyev is in the building none of us would be dumb enough to do anything.”

The guards leave and the teen causing problems with Boris from before speaks up

T: “When you think they’re bringing Hiwatari in?”

Yuriy: “Hopefully never.”

T: “You saying that for our sake, or his?”

Yuriy, annoyed: “I hate him just as much as the rest of you. You seem to forget, I had a front row seat for what happened that day.” Yuriy pulls up his sleeve to reveal severe burn scars running up the entirety of his right arm.

T: “Mmmhm. Whatever you say, but we saw you guys all buddy-buddy on TV last year.”

Yuriy is clearly irritated. Boris speaks up and teases. “Remember, no fighting.”

Yuriy: “I need to go for a walk, come on.”

Boris, Yuriy, Sergei, and Ivan leave to wander the corridors for a while, just to get a break from their roommates.

Ivan: “You think they’d really bring Kai in after what happened?”

Yuriy: “He wouldn’t be the only Berserker here. They can keep him under control with the Neistovycaine until they need to use him, just like the others.”

Boris: “Yeah but the others didn’t lose total control and kill 68 members of their own unit. It would be a bad idea, if you ask me.”

Yuriy: “It would be a brilliant idea, actually. If you put yourself in Koscheyev’s shoes… Fuck it, I know exactly what he’s going to do. He’ll have Kai come of his own free will by threatening the lives of his friends in the BBA. He’ll bring him in, keep him heavily doped up, and then unleash him on the opposing forces during any fight that might be a struggle for the NWO's forces to win. Koscheyev won’t want Kai as a soldier, he’ll just want him as a weapon, and so long as he’s got team BBA in his hands Kai’s dumb ass is going be desperate enough to fall for it. Thing is, they'll probably just use Kai to kill Takao and the others for their Sacred Spirits in the end anyway, and by then Kai won't have any control over whether he does it or not.”

[heybaetae]

vmin cleverly acting out the lyrics of "dimple" cr. namuspromised

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Sixteen: The Wyrm (Loop 66)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Every day, Rhysand wakes up next to Amarantha in her bed Under the Mountain. A prisoner, a weapon, a High Lord on a leash. He's been down there so long, it's starting to feel like time doesn't matter. Until one day, it doesn't. Feyre's death sends Rhysand back in time, waking up on the same day - over and over. Now, Rhysand must discover how to break the time loop, save his mate, and keep his sanity intact. A "round robin" style fanfiction with different authors. This work is meant to be read from beginning to end, but each chapter is written by a different author with their own spin on the time loop prompt.

Part of the @feysand-hivemind

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand

Rating: Teen

Triggers: Major Character Death, Suicide

Length: 1,040 words

[Hello again! Back to provide some emotional catharsis this time instead of silliness. Truthfully, I've had this chapter written since June of 2024 and it's just been sitting in my drafts all this time, waiting to be unleashed. So I'm glad I can finally share it with you all!]

Tumblr Masterlist | Read on AO3 or below the cut

Rhys felt like he was on the edge of a panic attack. 

(Then again, this whole time looping madness had felt like one very long, endless panic attack.)

No matter how many times he’d lived through this exact moment he still couldn’t help but fight the wave of anxiety that gripped his heart as his mate—still glaring daggers at Amarantha—was snatched up and dropped into the arena like a sack of potatoes. 

The fact that he’d gotten her this far was, quite frankly, a miracle. After his last few cycles he’d nearly given up hope of getting her to this point again. He was tired. And terrified. And he just wanted this all to be over. For he and Feyre to escape this mad, spiraling time loop and Amarantha and her horrors and then…and then…

He didn’t dare think of that nebulous what-if. It felt so out of reach. So fragile. As if just thinking it would pop it like a soap bubble. 

Below, he watched Feyre sprint through the mud as the wyrm was released. Good. She understood the danger. Now all she had to do was—

Where was she going?!

Rhys watched helplessly as Feyre turned left…straight into the path of the wyrm. He had no more than a single moment for horror to take hold before he saw the wyrm open its gaping maw…and swallow his mate whole. 

She didn’t even have time to scream before he felt her life—that beautiful, brilliant light that shined like a star in his mind—snuffed out as she was crushed between the wyrm’s teeth. 

No. 

No. 

Not again. 

Not. Again. 

No matter how many times he’d seen his mate die, it still felt like his heart had been torn from his chest, raw and bloody and still beating. His hands shook. He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shred the very fabric of this reality and put it back together so that she would be there again, safe and sound and alive. 

He wanted to…ah. Yes. There was that panic attack he’d been waiting for. 

“Such a pity,” Amarantha said, clucking her tongue mockingly. She slumped back in her throne with a disappointed sigh. “I was hoping for a little more entertainment today.”

Normally, this was when Rhys was expected to swallow his horror and disgust and reply ‘Yes, such a pity’ and ‘Humans are such pathetic little creatures aren’t they?’.

That is not what he said. 

“Has anyone ever told you what an insufferable creature you are?”

She paused, almost as if in shock. Rhys had never spoken to her like this before. Not in all his fifty years under this godsforsaken mountain. He had always been such a good boy to her face. Ready to bow and scrape and offer up whatever she desired. His coy commiseration. His power. Even his body. 

But none of that mattered anymore. Not without her. 

His mate. 

Feyre. 

Besides, it wasn’t as if she would remember any of this anyway. 

“Oh, forgive me,” he continued. “Were you not expecting that from me? Have I played your adoring pet for too long? Well let me set the record straight here and now. You repulse me.” His face twisted into a snarl. He was sure he looked more wolf than fae in that moment. 

Amarantha said nothing, still caught by surprise. Around them, the arena had gone silent. No one dared make a sound as Rhys voiced everything no one else was brave enough to say out loud. 

“You’re pathetic. Whatever happened to that great and ruthless general I wonder? The one who struck fear into the hearts of her enemies? Are you so helpless and pitiful now that you had to bind all of Prythian through trickery? Have you grown so miserable and weak that you are reduced to playing games with a human? A child?”

It felt so good to say this out loud. To finally tell her what a vile little cretin she was. 

“I’ve met rodents more appealing than you.”

Anger flared across that perfect face. She was upset. 

Good. 

“Seize him!” Amarantha called, her fingers bone white as she clutched the arms of her throne. 

Rhys laughed. He felt manic. Wild. Reckless. He didn’t bother fighting the attor as it grasped ahold of his shoulders and thrust him to his knees. 

What did it matter now?

“Look at you. So afraid of a few words. Because you know they’re true. You know you have no allies. No friends,” he laughed, a frenzied edge to his voice. “You know all of us want you dead. You will never know peace. Never know freedom. Never know love. Even your beloved Tamlin can’t wait to rip your throat out.”

He saw the way that last barb cut deep. How her eyes briefly flickered towards the fae in question. And Tamlin, confirming her worst fears, only had eyes for the slithering, blind creature below—as if waiting for the fierce little blonde human to walk out of its jaws, perfectly hale and whole once more. 

If only. 

“I can’t wait for you to suffer the way you’ve made us all suffer these many long years.”

She plastered a cruel smile onto her face. “I hope that thought will sustain you through what I have planned for you.”

“Ah, but I don’t have to hope, Amarantha, my dear,” he said with a manic grin. “You see, I’ll make it happen.”

A flash of doubt crossed her face and Rhys’s smile widened. Below them, he heard the wyrm slither close, looking for another meal. 

“What are you—”

Quick as a viper, he wrenched himself free and for one shining, beautiful moment he saw a flicker of fear in Amarantha’s eyes. He didn’t need to read her mind to know what she was thinking. 

Is he going to kill me? Can he kill me?!

His smile was all teeth. 

“See you soon my dear.” It was a promise. 

An omen. 

Then, to the shock of all, he flung himself off the platform and into the path of the wyrm. 

I���m coming my love. 

It was his last thought before the wyrm opened its jaws wide and—

Enjoy this fic? Check out some of my other Feysand time travel fics (Let Us Cling Together As The Years Go By and The Nights Grow Long) or fics from the many other talented writers on this project who can be found here.

Or, alternatively, check out my ACOTAR Fic Masterlists.

Thanks for reading! 💜

[lamemaster]

Maedhros and Modern Secret Agent Reader

Plot: A world where Feanorians can dream of their human s/o who is now reborn into the modern world- in this case, Maedhros. Catch, they come as a deal. So they all dream of it together. Sort of like Feanorians watching a live stream of your life. *Spoiler* Reader dies in the modern world and awakens in theirs but in middle earth instead of Valinor. maybe idk this lives in my brain and I am tired of 20k drafts.

Need to clear my drafts. Not adding tags yet because I need to know if this is worth continuing.

"Is this the patient, timid, fragile daughter-in-law we've been told about?" Nerdanel commented from where she leaned against the bloodied pillar.

The rest of the Feanorians were too dumbfounded to respond to their mildly amused mother.

You, on the other hand, were quite preoccupied with beating the living daylights out of a man who had lost consciousness minutes ago. Panting, you straddled the man, maniacally pounding his already battered face.

Atop the prone figure of their attacker, your normally soft features were contorted into a mask of primal rage. Sweat beaded on your brow, plastering strands of hair that had escaped your usually intricate braid.

Your once elegant hands, now slick with blood and grime, pounded a relentless rhythm against the man's already disfigured face. Each blow was fueled by a cocktail of fear, violation, and a desperate need for escape. (lol why does this sound so wrong)

How did things end up like this? Maedhros wondered. Everything was so different from the past he knew.

Beneath you, the man whimpered pathetically, a stark contrast to the predatory leer he'd worn moments ago. His bravado, the same bravado that had fueled this altercation in the first place had evaporated completely under the relentless onslaught.

You weren't a warrior, not in the traditional sense. You were sharper a venomous needle rather than a scathing sword but that did not lessen the impact of your blows. Not when the entire Feanorian cohort had witnessed you breaking another man's ribs with your bare hands.

A strangled gasp escaped your lips as you felt a hand clamp down on your shoulder. With a snarl that would have sent shivers down the spine of even the most seasoned warrior, you spun, ready to unleash your fury on the next threat.

But the hand belonged to Alden, your partner or at least what they had gathered from the entire day of following you.

"Enough," he said, his voice low and firm. "He's finished. We need to leave before the rest find out," he whispered, snapping you out of your wrathful haze.

Maedhros sucked a cautious breath at the familiarity with which you looked at the other man and the ease with which you leaned into his touch.

[goldfades]

🧊 with estapa plz!!

NOOOOO MARK ANGST 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

you tried so hard, so desperately hard to give him everything he had ever wanted. you poured your heart and soul into the relationship, striving to meet his every need and desire. day by day, you tried to become the girl he had always wanted, molding yourself into what you thought would make him happy.

despite your best efforts, it seemed that no matter how hard you tried, you could never quite meet his expectations. the constant feeling of inadequacy gnawed at you, leaving you wondering if you'd ever be enough for him.

mark's words hung heavy in the air, like a storm cloud threatening to unleash hurt emotions. the combination of anxiety and hurt hurled up inside you, threatening to consume you whole. each sentence felt like a sharp blade, cutting through your heart and twisting it, leaving a big wound. the nausea of anxiety churned in your stomach, and you felt as though you might physically become ill from the weight of his words.

you could only grasp a few fragments of what he had said, not even processing more than the few words he had began with, "i think we should break up."

"y/n?"

you were suddenly brought back this moment, snapped away from your emotions as you nodded in response, not trusting your voice to speak as you held in every emotion you were feeling.

"i just think... it's better this way," mark continued, his voice tinged with sadness.

you swallowed hard, your voice trembling. "better how?"

he looked at you, and for a moment, the mask of indifference slipped, revealing the quiet turmoil beneath his facade. "for both of us. we're holding each other back, with my hockey career and your school. it's just time we moved on with our lives."

what he meant by everything he just said was, he didn't want you to hold him back; he didn't want you to be in his future. his short words felt like a dagger to your heart, and you fought to hold back tears. "but i love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

mark's gaze faltered, and you saw a glimmer of the pain you felt reflected back in those eyes you love─no, loved. "i know," he replied quietly, his gaze soften at your words. "but sometimes love just isn't enough."

he doesn't say anything for a moment, just takes a swig from his bottle. finally, he speaks, "it's not about you not being enough."

your eyebrows furled in confusion as you glance at him, waiting for an explanation.

he sighs, looking a little frustrated. "we want different things, you know? different futures, different paths."

your heart sinks as you grasp his meaning, "so, you're saying i'm in the way of what you want?"

mark winces as he sighs, "no, it's not like that, but-"

"but what, mark?" you push, anger and hurt taking over your emotions.

he finally looks at you, his eyes full of regret, "but, i can't keep dragging you along a road you don't want to travel. you deserve to find your own path, too. when i get drafted, we can't... we won't be able to stay together through the distance."

the finality in his tone hung heavy in the air, and you knew that this was the end, even though your heart ached at the thought. even if you gave him everything and it wasn't enough.

MY 100 FOLLOWER CELLY!

[papayapastry81]

I ask politely for you to unleash the 3 alternatives to chapter 11 of your fic(only if you're comfortable!!). On the other hand I've been following you fic religiously it's good I've cried like 10 different times. I can't wait for the rest of the fic.✨✨

i genuinely did not think anyone would be interested in the drafts but i’ve gotten so many requests about this that im actually considering putting out excerpts of the alt drafts 👀

not the full versions, unfortunately-- some scenes were recycled into chapter 12 or might appear in future chapters. but the ones that got cut entirely? i could definitely share those here if you guys are interested.

and thank you so much for reading !! i hope the upcoming chapters keep hitting the spot and are worth it<333

but here are two (out of the three, one got published ^^) alternate versions of chapter 11, loosely summarised (they got a bit wordy, apologiess 😅). let me know which one you'd want to see a snippet of first and i’ll dig into what i can post !

1. charles wakes up and realises oscar hasn’t left. he just lies there for a moment before breaking down-- silent at first, then uncontrollable. oscar wakes up to him crying and doesn’t quite know what to do. it’s a quiet, painful kind of tenderness. there’s a slightly different version of the flinch scene (the one that ended up in chapter 11), plus a longer continuation of the moment in chapter 12 where charles realises oscar’s been blaming himself this whole time.

2. we follow max’s day for a change. he goes through his routine-- makes breakfast, tries to keep things steady. it’s instinct, habit, almost a penance. for the first time, he doesn’t know how to fix things, so he does what he knows best, be present. a solid, steady, grounding presence. he walks into the room with food and finds oscar, alone, curled in on himself, barely holding it together, and something in max just cracks. this version got abandoned about 3/4 of the way through, so i might need to work on it a bit before sharing-- but it’s quiet, heavy, and very max. i will need to edit the snippets a bit because at the moment, they are roughly written scenes but yeah ! if anyone is interested, do let me know which one of the you'd like ! i will try my best to put them out ! and to all the anons who sent in similar asks, i hope this answers it ! i appreciate each and one of you<33

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

the end is where we start from

Finally finished my post-season two Lokius reunion fic. Huge thank you to @lgwilt for beta reading. This fic had been languishing in my drafts folder for near six months and would have remained forever abandoned without our conversations, your encouragement, and your brilliant beta read of course. Thank you! 💖

Summary: Loki loses himself to the stories of Yggdrasil. Luckily, Mobius and Sylvie are there to bring him back.

Rating: G

Words: 6,027

Pairing: Loki/Mobius M. Mobius

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki Gets a Hug, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon Fix-It, Reunions, Romantic Confession, Feelings Realization, Protective Mobius M. Mobius (over both Loki and Sylvie because of course he cares for them both), POV Loki, Author waxes on about the meaning of hope and life again and no one is surprised

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It’s cold at the end of time. Not technically. It’s not technically anything at the end of time. It’s not warm, not cold. There’s no day and no night, no changing of seasons. But it feels cold. Loki can’t quite explain why.

It’s a cold that seeps into every fiber of his being until eventually… he’s numb. Which is easier, he supposes, in a way.

Loki sits at the base of Yggdrasil. He’s long since lost sight of his black and gold throne as the timelines have grown. They’re wrapped around his legs, his arms, and are embedded so deep into his palms Loki isn’t sure he can let go of them if he tries. They stem from somewhere deep below—not even Loki knows where—and weave themselves together around him in a tapestry of stories, illuminating the darkness in an ethereal green, humming with life. They’re beautiful. He understands now why Sylvie fought so hard to free them—each thread shimmers with infinite potential. Loki’s heart swells with pride. They did it. Together he, Sylvie, and Mobius unleashed the multiverse and now everyone is free to write their own stories.

Protecting the timelines is a burden as much as it is a glorious purpose. While Loki can step into the timelines, he’s condemned to only ever observe the stories he’s sworn to protect. He can see the ocean but can’t feel the mist in his hair, see the birds floating in the air but can’t feel the wind on his face, see the sun… but he can’t feel its warmth. He will never feel warmth again—never feel anything again except for this bone-chilling numbness that follows him like a shadow in this sunless place. It hurts. More than he can bear. So he resists.

For a time.

Loki isn’t sure how long he lasts—time has simultaneously stretched on without end and stopped indefinitely—before he succumbs to temptation.

And he drifts.

Loki’s mind scatters across the timelines. He sees Thor with his adopted daughter. They make quite the pair. They’re both stubborn and too quick to action, but they’re brave, unrelenting in their fight to protect what matters most in the world: love. He sees his mother thriving in a world where the Dark Elves never rose back to power, a world where she continues her story long beyond that fateful day. He sees a flourishing Asgard. A Nine Realms united in peace. A Nine Realms consumed by war. A Ragnarök averted. A Ragnarök that destroys an entire timeline.

The multiverse is full of so many wondrous, magical, and horrendous things. The timelines grow, branching more and more offshoots until Loki is unable to keep up with the pace.

Until the stories in his mind become so jumbled, he can’t tell which memories are his and which are stories he’s only watched.

Until eventually he forgets his own name.

And then…

“Loki.”

Continue reading on AO3.