#Cranky Bow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sdr2lovemail · 9 months

Note

Could you write something about Sun and Moon being irritated/jealous that they can't kiss the reader (the maintenance worker one) with their mouths like a human can so the reader shows them about all the other ways to kiss? Like kissing Sun's hand up his arm to his cheek until he is giggling so loudly Vanessa thinks he's gone off his rocker, or gently kissing Moon's forehead all the way down to where his heart would be? Even better if the maintenance reader leaves behind little lipstick marks on their face for Monty and the gang to laugh about :D

Inspired by that one tumblr post about a guy walking out with a few lipstick kiss marks and then saying "you should see what they did to the other guy" in a stereotypical mobster voice before said other guy drunkenly walks out absolutely covered in lipstick marks, sfw of course I want Fluff I want Affection I want Lovey Dovey-ness if you think you could swing it, just the softest silliest thing you can write, and keep up the good work anywho :')

I have no mouth, and I must kiss. (GN Reader but they do wear lipstick) Synopsis: After a play full of heartbreak and tragedy, Sun realizes that he'll never be able to kiss you. You remedy the situation.

Notes: It's been almost 2 years since I've written a fnaf fic, I feel rusty. Help wanted 2 got me calling my old mans' numbers. That's a joke they never left my phone. Anon if you're still out there, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labors.

Requests are open!

Children are very persuasive. While you originally came to the daycare to fix a broken screen, you’ve ended up in a play. Decked out with a foam sword, you act as the story’s brave knight. Once you’ve slain the dragon, a kid wearing a Monty hood, your princess awaits.

“My dear knight! You saved me from the evil dragon!” Sun swoons. Instead of his waist frills, he’s worn a bright yellow skirt. Dangling from a few of his rays was a princess cap. The bells on his wrist jingle as he clasps his hands. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

You press a hand against your heart and bow your head. “There is no need, Princess. Protecting you is my sworn duty.” You’d say your acting wasn’t half bad for an underpaid maintenance worker.

“The princess has to kiss the knight!” A kid called from the audience.

Sun felt rigid like his joints were locking up. He hoped you couldn’t hear his fans kicking on as his body temperature rose. He would love to kiss you but wanted the moment to be perfect. “N-now friend, we don-”

“Mr. Sun can’t kiss them! He doesn’t have a mouth!” Another kid argued. Something about what they said made Sun feel weird.

“Yes, he does! It just can’t open.”

Sun lets out a huff, turning to you. “They’re getting cranky. It must be snack time. I’ll pass them out quickly. That way, we can spend time together!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eager for you to stick around.

Your fazwatch pings with an alert: a S.T.A.F.F. bot got stuck in Monty Golf. “Oh, sorry, Sun. I have another job to do. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Sun would be frowning if his faceplate could move. He quickly perks up and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Right! Right, right, right, you have a job. Responsibilities! I’ll- I’ll see you at closing. Buh-bye, friend!” The jester waves you goodbye before sighing, hurrying to pass out snacks before someone throws a tantrum.

The rest of your day goes as smoothly as working as the Pizza Plex could be. It was after closing time, and you were doing your final tasks. The glamrocks were in their rooms, the S.T.A.F.F bots were on their set paths, and nothing on the floor needed fixing. The last place you needed to check on was the daycare.

Walking through the big wooden doors, Sun is nowhere to be seen. You call his name, followed by Moon’s, but still nothing. Shrugging it off, you make your rounds, checking everything is in place. During the sweep, you could hear muffled words from a storage closet.

“Do you think they’ve kissed anyone, Moon? We can’t do that…” That was the unmistakable voice of Sun. “I wonder what it would be like. Hmph, even the glamrocks can move their mouths…” He grumbles.

When you open the door, Sun jumps like he’s been shocked. He scrambled to stand up. “Ah! Oh, hi! You’re here early!”

“It’s almost eleven. I’ve been here for almost thirty minutes.” You say, checking your watch. “What were you talking about?”

“Would you believe me if I said nothing?” The daycare attendant tilts his head, his faceplate spinning a bit.

“No, I would not.”

Sun sighs as he sits back on the closet floor, his legs crisscrossed and his hands holding his face. Taking a seat next to him, you ask him what’s wrong.

“I was just thinking about some stuff after our play. Moon and I can’t kiss you!” He flops over dramatically as if he’d heard tragic news. “Our face is stuck in this stupid smile!” He tugs on one of his rays, angry at his lack of facial mobility.

“Hey, I don’t mind that you guys can’t kiss me. There’s more to a relationship than that. Besides, there are other ways to kiss.”

This breaks him out of his kissless stupor. “There are? Tell me, tell me!” Sun practically shakes where he sits. “Better yet, show me!” He opens his arms wide, inviting you to do as you please.

Taking one of his large hands in your own, you place a kiss on the back of his hand, leaving a lipstick mark on the shiny plastic. While he didn’t have pupils, you could feel Sun’s eyes burning into you. He didn’t want to miss a single second!

The touch sensors in his arms and hands weren’t that sensitive. Kids sure did like to scratch, kick, and bite. But even so, he could still feel your lips pressing fluttering kisses to his casing. Laughter bubbled up in his voice box.

Kiss after kiss lined Sun’s arm. Even if it left stains, this is one mess he could let slide. You took his other arm in your hands, mimicking your previous affections. Kissing back up his arms, you reach his faceplate. Sun’s giggling gets louder as your lips kiss the hard surface of his cheeks.

“Hey, your shift’s almost over. Get ready to clock out.” Vanessa’s voice rings from your watch.

When you pull away to answer, Sun tries to follow your lips. “Alright, I’ll be at the office in a moment.” Sun lets out another round of laughter.

“Oh, you’re with him… Your pay gets docked when you stay overtime, you know. Make sure to leave before the shutters close.” With that last sentence, Vanessa cuts off her line.

With excited, shaking hands, Sun brings your face closer to his. “Keep kissing me! Please, please, please!” His begging is cut short as he listens to Moon say something. “Awww, but I’m not done!” Sun still gets up to turn the lights off, moping the whole way there.

Bright red optics suddenly appear in front of your eyes. The lights glow against your skin. Moon clicks a flashlight on, making his faceplate look more menacing than he probably intended. “You weren’t thinking about leaving, were you? Not when you haven’t given me the same attention Sun got, right?”

“Oh, of course not, Moon!” Cupping his face in your hands, you leave a kiss mark on his forehead.

You bring your trail of kisses down to his nose, trailing along the curve, up to the corner of his eye. Moon lets out that raspy laugh of his. He tugs you closer, craving the warmth of your skin against the cold of his plastic.

He watched as you kissed down his face and neared his chest. “Sun was whining all day, worrying over us not being able to kiss you.” Moon snickered. “He was fretting over nothing, as usual. But I must admit, he’s right about some things.”

His ‘breath’ hitched as he watched you kiss right where his heart would be. The fans in his chest cavity kicked into overdrive as they tried to cool his circuits, trying their best not to overheat. “Kissing you would be a dream.”

Letting out a laugh of your own, you press another soft kiss on Moon’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to do the kissing for all three of us.” Punctuating your sappy sentence, you kiss their sculpted-on smile. An audible puff of air leaves the daycare attendant’s chassis.

“Attention Pizza Plex Guests and Staff. The Pizza Plex’s doors will close in ten minutes.” An automated voice rang over the building’s speakers.

More alert than before, you get up from the closet door. “I gotta go!” You were not trying to spend the night here. “Bye, Moon. Bye, Sun. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to wash that lipstick off!”

They weren’t really listening, absolutely high on kisses. For a few hours, they simply rest in the daycare’s storage closet, gushing to each other about you. Well, more Sun than Moon.

Once it was time for Moon to do his rounds around the Pizza Plex, he’d forgotten about the lipstick covering his exoskeleton. It wasn’t until Monty knocked on the glass of his room.

“You having a good night, Moon?” It was like the smirk in Monty’s voice was audible from his voicebox. “Seems like you had a lot of fun.”

Seeing his reflection in the glass, Moon lets out a growl. How could he forget to wash off all this lipstick? “Not a word of this to anyone.” Moon scratched his fingers down the window, leaving marks behind. He turns tail to head back to the daycare and wash the stains off of himself.

Unknowing to the lunar animatronic, Monty had already sent a message to all the other bots.

#daycare attendant x reader #sun x reader #moon x reader #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy’s x reader #sundrop x reader #moondrop x reader #security breach x reader #security breach #fnaf #daycare attendant #x reader

1K notes · View notes

radioisntdead · 4 months

Note

This is my first time requesting anything from you so I hope this idea is okay but would you be willing to write something where the reader is Alastor's child (I live for Dad Alastor) and they meet Susan? Maybe they get really attached to her so every time they visit Cannibal Town Alastor has to reluctantly take his kid to see 'Grandma Susan' and be civil around her?

Only if you're up for it though! I love your blog so MUCH and I live for both the platonic Alastor and Susan content you do

-TheAmberFist ♡

Good evening my dear! I did headcanons I hope that's alright, I adore your blog's content as well! I reread your "leave it all on the dance floor" series often! I positively adore how you write Alastor's and the readers friendship! Also thank you so much for requesting this because that gives me an excuse to bring back this header!

Papa Alastor doesn't like Grandma Susan.

Alastor & child reader, Susan & adopted against Alastor's will grandchild reader.

Warnings: Cannibalism also reader is a fawn because deers.

HEADCANON TIMEEEEE

Much like my other Papa Alastor fics, he either picked you up off the streets, or you just straight up followed him home like a stray puppy.

He unwillingly became a father.

I imagine he was talking with your Auntie Rosie and You wandered off to explore Cannibal town!

Despite being in hell, it seems safe enough for children considering there were other children around.

Anywho you stumbled upon a cranky Susan and just immediately started going

"I like your dead rodent scarf!"

"It's a fox, what are you blind?"

Long story short she unwillingly became a grandmother that day because you would NOT LEAVE HER ALONE not that she minded

Alastor has to deal with you whining that you want to see Grandma Susan, dude does NOT want to call her your grandmother, in his eyes you only have one grandmother above that you will unfortunately never meet.

"I wanna see Grandma Susan!"

"She's not your grandmother, why in the devil's name would you want to see her?"

"Because she's my grandma,"

"No she's not."

"yes she is!"

"No."

"Yes!"

Que a repeat of no's and yes until he eventually relents because you are NOT TAKING NO FOR AN ANSWER.

I imagine Susan enjoys your company but also uses you to peeve off the embodiment of red-40 that is your parent.

Like Alastor leaves you with her for whatever reason and is just like

"Don't give them any candy, no more then two juice boxes anymore and they get rowdy."

Guess who got a little goodie bag of candies and had a whole box of CapriSuns?

Also I imagine you as a fawn, specifically one of these [no this totally isn't an excuse to show the deer pictures I have saved noooooo]

Susan puts either a bow or bow tie on you, I imagine she breaks into the hotel sometimes when Alastor is out and is just like "I'm taking my grandchild out, fuck off!"

Vaggie tried to stop her once and nearly lost an arm, so far the only ones that are successful in getting Susan to not kidnap you is Angel dust [aka your favorite babysitter] ,Rosie, Alastor himself, for everyone else they have to risk losing limbs, Charlie could probably coax you away from Susan.

They banned her from the hotel, set up security measures.

She keeps getting in they don't know how, they're terrified.

Nothing stops Susan.

Alastor keeps cordial with Susan because he can't do anything to Susan because of Rosie and also because much to his displeasure you are attached to the ornery old bitch.

Alastor wants to take you on a father-child day? Torturing sinners, getting cannibal ice cream, getting souls,

He can't BECAUSE Susan snuck into the hotel and snatched you up!

On the flip side, Susan wants to take you shopping because the modern [1920's-1930's] clothing Alastor dresses you in is horrendous, Her words not mine

But no Alastor literally just picked you up and teleported away, how rude! How dare he keep her from her grandchild?? Ungrateful brat who raised him? [She's lucky Alastor did NOT HEAR THAT, just because he's dead and his ma is in heaven does NOT MEAN HE'S NOT STILL A MAMA'S BOY the good version ]

I imagine as a consequence Susan starts acting like Alastor's parent, like threatening to ground him, telling him to go in the corner and think about what he's done, chastising him for his awful haircut, then grabbing a bowl and scissors.

Alastor hid behind Rosie while Susan and you looked for him because she was definitely planning on giving him a bowl cut.

Good evening folks! Oh how I've missed writing for Susan! I missed our grumpy grandma, I hope you enjoyed this! As per usual thank you for tuning in I hope to see you again soon!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #susan & reader #alastor & reader #hazbin hotel susan #hazbin Susan & reader #Hazbin Susan & you

243 notes · View notes

nyoomerr · 10 months

Note

For the drabble request, I can never get enough shixiong!SY bingqiu. But only if you're up to it :)

ok it turns out i'm fundamentally unable to write a drabble as short as theyre meant to be, so here's over 4k words of shixiong!sy for your perusal 🤡 (+ a decent helping of cranky peak lord sqq and his wayward head disciple sy)

---

Shen Yuan… has possibly let himself become a bit too relaxed, since he first transmigrated. He used to spend every day on high alert: every cute little kid might be the protagonist, every mistake he made might have been logged somewhere for a petty revenge side plot later. He wouldn’t dare miss anything plot relevant, not when it might cause his doom. After all, ‘Shen Yuan’ wasn’t even a named character within PIDW - he was well and truly canon fodder!

But then, ah… Then Shen Yuan was accepted as a disciple on Qing Jing, and then he was a personal disciple of the notorious Shen Qingqiu, and then -

Well, not even Shen Yuan can keep up that sort of hyper vigilance all the time, okay!! He’s the scum villain’s head disciple - basically a henchman! If he lived in fear for every moment he might be condemned, he’d never have a second to rest!

It isn’t Shen Yuan’s fault that the best way to relax in this world is to go on years-long expeditions off peak!

…It might, maybe, be just a tiny bit my fault, Shen Yuan thinks, staring at Luo Binghe with horror. How does he manage to take such a long vacation that he misses the protagonist’s arrival onto Qing Jing? What kind of fake fan is he, ah?!

Luo Binghe has not introduced himself as such, but there is no way he can be anyone but Luo Binghe. His hair falls into perfect curls around a face so cute and round Shen Yuan wants to squish his cheeks until they turn pink, and he’s wearing an expression so determined and focused that it puts Shen Yuan to shame as the head disciple.

And he’s chopping wood. That’s the most recognizable part, obviously.

Shen Yuan forces himself to step forward into the small glade he found Luo Binghe in, clearing his throat awkwardly. Luo Binghe whips around, and Shen Yuan nearly cringes at the nervous apprehension on the boy’s face.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to startle you…” Shen Yuan trails off. Luo Binghe stares at him and says nothing. Shen Yuan’s perfectly nice and friendly smile starts to slip. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before…?”

“Apologies to Shixiong, this one will be sure to cut wood further away from the main peak buildings, so Shixiong doesn’t have to see me again.”

“Wha - wait, wait, that’s not what I meant!” Shen Yuan cries, becoming increasingly concerned about just how long he’s been away from Qing Jing.

For Luo Binghe to already be this wary of any Shixiong who looks his way… ah, Shen Yuan has basically already failed every single one of his loose plans to keep Luo Binghe from blackening! He wasn’t even there to witness Luo Binghe’s initial perfect white sheep days, let alone keep him out of the warpath of bullies and bitter Shizuns!

“This Shixiong is Shen Yuan,” he says, taking a few slow steps closer to Luo Binghe. Somehow, he gets the feeling that he has to be ready to catch Luo Binghe by the scruff if he tries to run off or start a fight while Shen Yuan is just trying to introduce himself, ah!

“This one is Luo Binghe,” Luo Binghe replies, dipping into a perfunctory bow.

“Yes!” Shen Yuan says. “I mean - well, it’s a good name.”

Luo Binghe’s expression only grows more wary.

“And ah, how long has Luo Binghe been on the peak?” Shen Yuan asks, even though the look Luo Binghe is giving him makes him want to slink back off into the bamboo forest. He has to know - if he’s lucky, it’ll only have been a year or two, and Shen Yuan can -

“This one has been a disciple of Qing Jing for over three years, now,” Luo Binghe says.

“Hm!” Shen Yuan says, because what he really wants to do is yell but he can’t do that with this customer service smile plastered on his face.

Inwardly, he allows himself to monologue out a list of swears that would’ve gotten his old online accounts temporarily locked. Over three years is too long!! The blackening has already started!! Luo Binghe has already started damaging his meridians by following that cursed fake manual, has already started training under Meng Mo, and most importantly has already given up hope of being accepted here and started farming resentment instead!

Shen Yuan is fucked!! What sort of half-assed blackening prevention plan starts this late!?

“Ah, so Luo-shidi must already be 15, or nearly there,” Shen Yuan says aloud, laughing nervously. “Are you, um, sure?”

Please, please tell this pitiful Shixiong of yours that you just misspoke!!

Luo Binghe looks at him like he’s an idiot. Shen Yuan can feel nervous sweat beading along his forehead.

“It’s just - well, Luo-shidi is quite small, for being 15,” Shen Yuan says, and then nearly bites his tongue in an attempt to correct himself. Who is he to call the protagonist ‘small,’ ah!! “Not quite small! Only a bit! Only - uh, only slightly smaller than I’d expect! It’s only that I’m already 19, and Luo-shidi is much - I mean only a little! - shorter than I am, so -”

Shen Yuan makes himself shut up. You’re making a fool of yourself in front of the protagonist, you idiot!

“This one will be sure to train more to get bigger,” Luo Binghe says, though it sounds a bit like he’s talking through gritted teeth.

“No, no, you’re training plenty!” Shen Yuan rushes to say. “Uh, that is - admittedly, I’ve been off peak for some time now, but when I was Luo-shidi’s age, things like chopping wood were a group chore, so if you’re managing it all by yourself, surely you’re… big and strong…”

Shen Yuan shuts up again. Luo Binghe stares at him some more, but there’s something in his expression that seems more considering that it had been just a moment ago.

After a long stretch of awkward silence, he seems to come to some sort of resolution, and takes a hesitant step towards Shen Yuan.

“Forgive this one’s ignorance,” he says, slow and careful. “The other Shixiong said it was a chore best done alone to build strength. Is that wrong?”

“Very wrong,” Shen Yuan says, nearly beside himself with relief.

Good, very good! Luo Binghe hasn’t lost all hope for his time on Qing Jing Peak just yet, after all! Given the chance, he’ll still try to carefully raise the issue of his bullying to a responsible Shixiong to take care of!

Shen Yuan can so be a responsible Shixiong that takes care of reports of bullying for Luo Binghe!!

“Oh,” Luo Binghe says, edging even closer to Shen Yuan. “Then what does Shen-shixiong think I should do?”

“Luo-shidi doesn’t have to do anything about this,” Shen Yuan says firmly. “This Shixiong will take care of finding out who’s meant to be sharing this chore with you and make them do the rest of it.”

“There might be multiple people,” Luo Binghe offers, still speaking with a caution that makes it quite clear how likely he thinks it is that Shen Yuan’s assistance will vanish as soon as Luo Binghe complains too much.

“Because Luo-shidi has been made to do this chore alone for many days, now?” Shen Yuan asks.

Still looking a bit wary, Luo Binghe nods. Shen Yuan sighs, having expected that answer, and takes the final steps needed to get within arm’s reach of Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe watches him closely, his hands curling tighter around the ax he’d been using to chop the wood.

Moving slowly so as not to spook him, Shen Yuan raises one hand to place gently on Luo Binghe’s head. He really is too short for 15, but Shen Yuan knows all the details of ‘why’ - having to work too hard with not enough rest, having meals withheld from him or being served with spoilt ingredients - any kid would be a bit small, when under those conditions.

Luo Binghe had gone stiff under Shen Yuan’s touch, and Shen Yuan takes a moment to pet the top of his head for a moment before saying anything else, hoping to get Luo Binghe to relax again.

Ah, I really did mean to try and keep you safe, Shen Yuan thinks to himself, feeling regretful. He’d come to Cang Qiong with the intention of finding Luo Binghe early, after all, and had worked as hard as he had in order to be ready for Luo Binghe when he came.

But then he had worked too hard, and Shen Qingqiu had promoted him to head disciple, and suddenly Shen Yuan thought he might go insane if he wasn’t able to get off Qing Jing Peak and stay off for as long as he could possibly get away with, and -

How stupid of him. Luo Binghe must have been taken in during the disciple selection the very same year that Shen Yuan had taken off on his extended field trip. How very, very stupid of Shen Yuan, to think that things wouldn’t go upside down the second he looked away - this is Luo Binghe’s story, after all, and it’s always been a bit of a tragedy.

“Then this Shixiong can only apologize to you,” Shen Yuan says softly, with perhaps just a bit too much sincerity. “And in the future, if you’re given this sort of work again, I’ll chop wood in your place.”

Under his hand, Luo Binghe peers up at Shen Yuan with wide, hungry eyes. Shen Yuan gives him a final pat before withdrawing his hand, and plasters his friendly smile back on his face.

“Now, why don’t you get cleaned up, hm? I’ll meet you again later - this Shixiong of yours still needs to report back to Shizun that I’ve returned from my trip.”

Luo Binghe nods, still watching Shen Yuan with an intensity that would feel more at home on an emperor than a scrawny 15 year old, and Shen Yuan beats a hasty retreat.

Despite all the pretty promises he made to Luo Binghe, he’s going to have to think of something clever to actually be able to fulfill them.

After all, not even all of his meta knowledge combined would be able to save Shen Yuan from his Shizun.

---

Shen Yuan has been pacing outside Shen Qingqiu’s bamboo house for ten minutes now. Nothing he can think of is good enough to convince someone as petty and stubborn as Shen Qingqiu.

Once, at the start of his time on Qing Jing Peak, Shen Yuan had tied his disciple robes wrong, unused to wearing anything quite so complex. Shen Qingqiu had sneered at his mistake in the moment, and then for every major event in the next five years straight he’d made a point to comment snidely on how well Shen Yuan has managed to dress himself.

That’s the sort of mean streak this man has!! If he doesn’t like something, he’ll keep harping on that one thing for years, even after that thing isn’t around to bother him anymore! How is Shen Yuan supposed to coax Luo Binghe out of the jaws of a man like that?

Ah, forget it, forget it! Shen Yuan would just - he’d come back another day! Greeting Shen Qingqiu wasn’t really necessary, Shen Yuan could just -

“I was under the impression that Shen Yuan was a head disciple returning from field work, not a child trying to avoid bedtime.”

Shen Yuan whips around, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end like a spooked cat. There, kneeling elegantly on his front porch not ten meters from Shen Yuan, is Shen Qingqiu.

“Shizun!” Shen Yuan cries, trying to force his grimace into a nice, polite smile. “When did - I mean - this disciple means -”

Shen Qingqiu closes his fan with a harsh snap, and Shen Yuan shuts his mouth so fast he almost bites his tongue.

“Well?” Shen Qingqiu asks dryly, and Shen Yuan hurriedly drops into a bow.

“This disciple greets Shizun!” Shen Yuan shouts, his ears burning with embarrassment.

Shen Qingqiu hums, and Shen Yuan risks peeking out from his bow to look at him.

He does not look especially pleased.

With all the elegance of a wild cat, Shen Qingqiu unfolds himself from his kneeling position on the porch and glides over to Shen Yuan.

“Too low,” he says, slapping at Shen Yuan’s wrists with his fan. “Or was Shen Yuan hoping there would be a replacement head disciple waiting for him by the time he came back from his trip?”

“Ahahaha,” Shen Yuan wheezes, carefully correcting himself into a bow of a slightly higher ranked disciple than the one he’d originally slipped into. “Of course this disciple is honored by the position and very very grateful for Shizun’s benevolence in leaving it to him even during his absence…”

“What advice does Shen Yuan think his Shizun has for him?” Shen Qingqiu asks sharply, and Shen Yuan winces.

“‘Talk less,’ Shizun,” he recites dutifully. It is advice that Shen Qingqiu has given him many, many times.

Shen Qingqiu sniffs haughtily and walks a slow circle around Shen Yuan, inspecting him. Shen Yuan tries not to sweat too profusely. He really had been hoping that Shen Qingqiu may have forgotten about Shen Yuan in his years away, ah!

Finally, Shen Qingqiu completes his inspection, stopping once more in front of Shen Yuan.

“What sort of pathetic creature has Shen Yuan carved the bones of to make his hairpiece?” He asks, using his fan to prod at Shen Yuan’s hairpin.

“A Hundred Year Crystal Tortoise, Shizun,” Shen Yuan answers.

“And the leather of your belt?”

“A Golden-Footed Acidic Bear, Shizun.”

“And did you even bother to remove the -”

“- the needle hairs beneath the Bear’s skin before treating the pelt,” Shen Yuan interrupts. “Yes, Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “How bold you’ve gotten, interrupting your Shizun.”

“...Sorry, Shizun,” Shen Yuan mumbles, deflating a bit.

“Still,” Shen Qingqiu sighs, and Shen Yuan peeks back up at him again. “You did decent enough, I suppose.”

Shen Yuan perks up, half-standing up out of his bow. “Thanking Shizun -!”

Shen Qingqiu whacks him over the head with his fan. “If Shen Yuan’s trip had been only a single year, instead of nearly four!”

Shen Yuan very quickly gets back into the proper deferential position.

“Fleeing so quickly after being promoted, only to stay away for this long - I hope Shen Yuan is comfortable sleeping on the ground, because I’ve long since given up keeping the side room in my house for an absent head disciple. I filled it with cursed artifacts and dusty books two years ago.”

“Shizun -!” Shen Yuan protests, starting to stand up again. He’d liked that little room, damn it! It was the one decent part of being promoted to head disciple in the first place, even if it meant sharing a roof with this asshole!!

Shen Qingqiu whacks him again, and Shen Yuan obediently shuts up.

“Foolish boy,” he scolds, before promptly turning on his heel to stalk back to the bamboo house. “Hurry up, then,” he calls behind him, “I want to see if you still make tea as dreadfully as you did before.”

Shen Yuan makes a face at Shen Qingqiu’s back. Without looking behind him, Shen Qingqiu uses his qi to send a single leaf flying to Shen Yuan’s head, slapping him on the forehead right over where Shen Yuan’s brows had bunched together.

Shen Yuan smooths his face out into a perfectly polite smile once more. This asshole, he curses inwardly, he really is scum!! The lowest of the low!! A bully!!!

“Tea, Shen Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu calls once more, and Shen Yuan hurries to catch up.

---

Later, after Shen Yuan has dutifully given a retelling of his adventures over the last few years, and after Shen Qingqiu has grilled him on every mistake he made and how stupid that was of him and how shitty his tea still tastes, Shen Yuan finally manages to bring up Luo Binghe.

“This disciple met someone new this morning,” he says, pouring Shen Qingqiu more of his apparently awful tea.

“Was Shen Yuan sure they were new? Perhaps it’s been so many years your brain has started to forget the faces of the idiots here in favor of whatever foolish beasts you’ve been studying.”

“Someone new,” Shen Yuan confirms, pretending to ignore Shen Qingqiu’s very pointed glare. “He was a disciple even younger than Ning-shimei, and you only picked her out the year before I left.”

“Ah,” Shen Qingqiu says, and all of a sudden Shen Yuan thinks that perhaps his Shizun has never been truly irritated with him in the past, because this expression is far more acidic than anything Shen Yuan has seen before.

“A-ah…?” Shen Yuan says, stupidly.

Shen Jiu sets his cup down with a harsh clink. “Shen Yuan should ignore that little beast. He won’t bring you any good news.”

“Shizun, this disciple likes beasts best,” Shen Yuan says. “Is he so bad?”

“Ignore him,” Shen Qingqiu repeats frostily.

Shen Yuan swallows. This… there’s no way that he’ll be able to convince Shen Qingqiu to give Luo Binghe an honest shot in this one conversation. He can’t bet on being able to eventually wear him down, though, either - even if he does eventually convince him, if it takes a year to do it, that’s also not any good. Shen Yuan needs to be able to help Luo Binghe now.

Okay. This is fine. Shen Yuan has - he has so many very good ideas, all of them very well thought out and full of strategic benefits. He can use any one of these very good and smart ideas.

“I understand, Shizun,” Shen Yuan says, “That beast won’t be a shidi of mine, then.”

“Good, now -”

“But what about as a pet?”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him. Shen Yuan stares back.

“A pet,” Shen Qingqiu repeats.

“A pet,” Shen Yuan agrees. “Shizun, I already said that I like beasts best - if I can’t raise Luo Binghe to be my shidi, can’t I raise him as my pet instead?”

“Don’t be foolish,” Shen Qingqiu snaps. “Beasts aren’t for keeping.”

“Sometimes they are - Cang Qiong has a whole peak dedicated to such a thing,” Shen Yuan points out. Shen Qingqiu’s scowl grows more fierce.

“Qing Jing is above such dirty work,” he spits.

Shen Yuan swallows again, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. He’s already started down this path; he may as well place all his bets on making it through.

“Then perhaps Qing Jing is not for this disciple after all,” Shen Yuan says, trying to keep his voice steady. It still comes out a bit reedy, but at the very least, his voice doesn’t crack over the words.

Shen Qingqiu’s eye twitches. “Speak plainly - Shen Yuan has already spent several years neglecting his duties. How much farther do you intend to stray?”

“Shizun so graciously held the position of head disciple open for this one,” Shen Yuan hedges. “On that topic, isn’t it possible for head disciples to choose to spend a decade or so on a different peak of their choice, to encourage diversity in education and cross-peak relationships before the head disciple becomes beholden to their peak as a lord? Perhaps I could take in a pet on a different peak, with such a method.”

“That’s a custom reserved for older disciples,” Shen Qingqiu spits, “intended to benefit them in the years directly leading up to their ascension as a peak lord, not when the head disciple is just a little whelp with a century ahead of them before they can wear a lord’s crown.”

“No such rule is written anywhere, Shizun.”

“Then I’ll write it,” Shen Qingqiu hisses. “Shen Yuan, you’ve had your fun these past years - now you are to stay on this peak.”

“Then I want a pet,” Shen Yuan says, tilting his head up defiantly. “It’ll benefit Shizun, too: you won’t have to feed or clothe him anymore, nor train him to be a cultivator.”

Not that you were doing any of those things for Luo Binghe before, ah!! Shen Yuan thinks, trying to focus on that feeling of indignation. If he just thinks about that - about the horror of coming across Luo Binghe in that clearing earlier, too scrawny to be 15 and yet wary enough of the world he may as well have been an adult - then Shen Yuan can hold his ground.

If he just thinks about Luo Binghe as a neglected kid, and he just thinks of Shen Qingqiu as that child’s abuser -

If he just thinks about that, then Shen Yuan can meet the eyes of the man who has taught him and promoted him and housed him in the side room of his house, and he can demand this one thing.

“With what funds would Shen Yuan be able to feed and clothe his pet?” Shen Qingqiu asks sharply. “With what free time would he train him not to bite?”

“This one is the head disciple of Qing Jing Peak,” Shen Yuan says. “If a head disciple couldn’t manage that much, they certainly couldn’t deserve to ascend as a peak lord in the future.”

Shen Qingqiu falls silent, unfurling his fan and raising it high up his face until only his eyes peered out the top of it, watching Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan’s hands twist in his lap, but he keeps his gaze steady.

“A head disciple does not run away from the position,” Shen Qingqiu says.

“Nor does a master run off from their pet,” Shen Yuan agrees.

There’s another moment of quiet as they both watch each other. When Shen Qingqiu speaks again, his voice is firm, like someone reciting basic peak rules and not the terms of the most batshit insane agreement Shen Yuan has ever brokered.

“You will stay on Qing Jing,” Shen Qingqiu says, “and you will accept the head discipleship position without fuss.”

“Yes, Shizun.”

“No more trips. No more pretending to forget to introduce yourself as my head disciple. No more pushing your pathetic disciple brothers at me with paperwork that you clearly filled out in some sort of foolish scheme to have me consider them over you.”

Shen Yuan winces. “Yes, Shizun.”

“You will not receive any additional allowance, for any reason, outside of the funds normally provided to a head disciple. Any pests you pick up will not sleep in my house, nor will you be allowed to request room in the dormitories for any such creature. Those resources are for disciples, not beasts.”

Shen Yuan hesitates. Luo Binghe can’t sleep in the rundown woodshed forever, and he wants to protest the idea that the dorms are for disciples, as if Luo Binghe was ever allowed in there in the first place.

Shen Qingqiu taps one finger on the table. “Answer, Shen Yuan.”

“This disciple agrees under one condition,” Shen Yuan says. “Using his personal funds, this disciple would like to request permission to make moderate renovations to a peak structure in order to improve the quality of kept wood.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “Disciple Shen Yuan’s personal funds will be drained by feeding an animal - you will not be able to afford the standards that Qing Jing exacts for renovation projects.”

“This disciple has been collecting favors from An Ding. They will be repaid, and this disciple will be able to afford the project.”

“Shen Yuan had best not be caught collecting any such favors forcibly,” Shen Qingqiu warns, which is very distinctly a ‘don’t get caught blackmailing people’ warning and not a blanket ‘don’t blackmail people’ one.

“Of course,” Shen Yuan agrees. “This one is the personal disciple of Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu - how could I get caught in such a way?”

Read: you’ve made sure I understand how to not get caught when doing something shady, at the very least!!

Shen Qingqiu waves his fan once, twice - he’s irritated, but doesn’t necessarily disagree.

“Fine,” he says at last. “Permission for a renovation to that ugly woodshed is granted. And Shen Yuan’s answer to all other stipulations?”

“This disciple agrees.”

Shen Qingqiu slaps his fan closed in one palm. “Then Shen Yuan is allowed a pet. I won’t interfere further.”

Shen Yuan nods. He expected as much; Shen Qingqiu won’t egg on any further bullying, nor will he stop Shen Yuan from taking any measures he pleases when it comes to Luo Binghe, but he won’t help Shen Yuan dissuade the current bullying.

That’s fine - already, this is enough to help Luo Binghe.

“Thanking Shizun,” Shen Yuan says, bowing his head slightly. “This disciple will not disappoint.”

After all, how hard could raising the protagonist be? This world revolves around Luo Binghe; all Shen Yuan needs to do is make Luo Binghe’s everyday life a bit less miserable, give him just one person he can trust. Luo Binghe will manage the rest himself, by nature of being who he is - what he is.

Yes, this - this is the best way.

---

Outside the bamboo house, crouched beneath a window so still his muscles ache and his head feels woozy from how shallow he’s kept his breathing, Luo Binghe listens to his Shizun and Shixiong move on to discuss cleaning out the side room now that Shen Yuan has returned to the peak.

A pet, he thinks, his eyes blown wide, his fingers digging deep into the ground beneath his knees. He can feel dirt caking the underside of his fingernails, and the scars he leaves in the ground are very much like an animal, indeed.

A pet, he thinks again, over and over on loop in his mind, his pretty Shixiong’s voice fading to background noise. He thinks of Shen Yuan gently patting his head like one might coax a dog, and he thinks -

Yes, a pet.

#please forgive any grammar/flow issues w this if i tried to edit it i would have come to you w a 6k oneshot instead of a 4k one LMFAO #i'll probs clean it up and post it on ao3 after rent a bingge is done! for now tho enjoy uwu #svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #fic drabble

419 notes · View notes

bwabys-scenarios · 1 year

Note

Kite hcs PLEASSEE i saw ur post abt him, the anon was right theres NOTHING on this man, if im lucky i can find a decent fic😔 ANYWAYS THANK U SMM

Kite SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: oral(female and male receiving), creampie, fingering, fem!reader

!!REQUESTS OPEN!!

SFW

-this man is so affectionate behind closed doors. he loves to hold you, give you tender kisses

-he has very long hair, and lets you do anything you want with it! he will 100% wear little pink hair bows to work if you put them there!

-he’s such a softy. can’t be mad at you or upset for more than a second. you’re just so cute, he’ll just pay your head and say how spoiled you are

-he enjoys taking you out for nice, quiet dinners where he gets to see you all dressed up

-kite prefers giving you more sentimental, hand made gifts! like photo albums of your time together, baked goods, or cards he cut out himself

-he has a hard time relaxing when he’s away from guy for long periods of time. he doesn’t want to involve you with his work, but tries to be with you as much as possible

-he’s very patient, and it takes him nearly two years to confess his feelings to you. he knew he was in love when he watched you save an animal, despite the fact it was trying to kill you. he smacked you over the head after, but was touched by your kindness. that didn’t stop him from scolding you for putting yourself in danger lol

-he actually dislikes receiving gifts! he’d much rather just bask in your presence and get extra kisses than receive a material object

-he’s really bad at cooking, but a decent baker! he likes to make you lots of different sweets when you’re sad to cheer you up! he’s pretty good at baking bread as well~

-he can get pretty jealous. he’s a bit insecure, feeling like he doesn’t give you enough attention due to his job, so when he sees you hanging out with other men he feels… possessive. he won’t do anything, but will be a bit cranky. this can be solved by cupping his cheeks and reassuring him how much you love him!

-would love to get married and settle down in the near future. he sees a future with you, and wants to slip a ring on your pretty little finger as soon as he deals with that chimera ant situation…

-he will let you use any pet names with him, no matter how cheesy, he finds it absolutely adorable

NSFW

-he’s very much focused on your pleasure, making you cum on his tongue and fingers several times before he even THINKS about fucking you

-soft dom…

-he’s an ass guy, though feeling your thighs squishing his cheeks while he eats you out is also quite nice…

-likes to cum inside mostly, not for any particular reason, you just feel nice and warm and he’d prefer staying inside you as long as possible!

-he loves fingering you, curling them inside your cunt and feeling your walls tighten around them… makes him hard

-sex with Kite is slow, sensual, and sweet. he holds you hand, gives you lots of kisses and praise, and will do anything to make you feel good, comfortable, and loved

-he does have a thing for overstimulating you… seeing you cry and whine as he rubs at your puffy clit turns him on to no end. you’re really cute 🥰

-he’s pretty quite during sex, only speaking when praising you, or telling you how good you’re making him feel. otherwise it’s quite grunts, and soft moans

-you give him a blowjob and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him look so flustered. he’s swallowing thickly, looking down at you with half lidded eyes as the prettiest pink blush takes over his cheeks…

-“fuck, sweetheart, that feels really good…”

-he prefers calling you pet names like sweetheart, love, dear, and darling(used occasionally)

436 notes · View notes

thechaoticdruid · 6 months

Text

[Delicious]

Astarion x Named!Tav

Plot: After setting up camp in the Underdark the weirdos start to reminisce of past lovers, which also brings a curious question to light. How come Winnie had no lovers before Astarion?

Content/Warnings: MDNI SMUT

F!MC, MC uses she/her pronouns, insecurities, chubby mc, flashbacks, unrequited love, bullying, Little Winnie being feral, Winnie is just feral in general, violence, blood, gore, some piv smut at the end, fingering, conflicted Astarion, angst, comfort.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Arrg! You asshat!” Winnie shouted hanging onto the back of the minotaur as it bucked and jerked around, trying to shake the druid off. The brunette-haired woman grabbed hold of the horns as she held on for dear life. “I could use a little help here!” She said with annoyance, her scimitars had been discarded onto the ground, leaving her weaponless and it was honestly too risky to try to cast a spell while being slung around.

Astarion aimed his bow at the beast, arrowhead trying to align with the minotaur’s head. The arrow came fast, but unfortunately the bull man jerked out of the way. Winnie let out a yelp as the arrow grazed the armor of her shoulder.

“Astarion!” The druid growled out.

“Apologies darling, it's hard to aim when the stupid cow keeps moving!” Astarion replied with a hint of annoyance.

“AHHHH!” Karlach suddenly screamed, flames surrounding her as she went into a rage. The fiery tiefling charged forward with her great ax, taking a swing at one of the minotaur’s legs and hacking it right off. Winnie let out a shout as the beast fell forward, dragging her along with it! Winnie fell right onto Astarion, sending him tumbling over as Karlach proceeded to repeatedly hack and slash at the monster, each swing separately another limp from the beast's body with a sickening crunch sound. The tiefling let out another loud scream as she just kept hacking and slashing into the beast, turning its body into a bloody pile of viscera.

“Oh for gods' sake, it's dead Karlach. Now you're just getting the blood everywhere!” Astarion complained, getting up as he held the dazed druid up along with him. Karlach eventually cooled off, panting heavily as she stepped away from the battered corpse, boots drenched in blood.

“I could have drank that.” Astarion murmured under his breath. Winnie rubbed her head a bit as she gathered her bearings.

“Mystra’s blood! What happened here?!” Gale exclaimed as he appeared out from behind a large stalagmite.

“Oh, you know just getting some fresh Underdark air.” Winnie said sarcastically.

“Gale, where in the hells have you been?!” Astarion demanded as he crossed his arms, glaring at the wizard in annoyance.

“I was helping the others find a water source to camp by. Unfortunately, we still haven't found anything yet.” Gale stated.

“Ah, so being of no help as usual.” Astarion huffed a bit.

“Ignore Fangs, Gale. He's just cranky we weren't able to get him lunch.” Karlach piped up, finally calming down from her rage.

“Hmm, wait a minute.” Winnie said before scurrying over to what was left of the the minotaur corpse.

“Eh..What are you doing?” Gale asked with grimaced of disgust as Winnie took out a jar from her pack and grabbed hold of one of the severed minotaur limbs.

“Getting some blood for Star.” Winnie said before squeezing out what blood she could from the minotaur leg.

“Ah, you're such a sweetheart, Winnie.” Astarion gave her a flirtatious wink, causing the druid to blush as she gathered blood into a jar.

“Awe, that is sweet, soldier. A little gross, but sweet.” Karlach smiled.

“Ah yes, collecting blood from a mutilated corpse. A very romantic gesture.” Gale exclaimed.

“I…I'm just trying to help.” Winnie murmured, before filling up the jar completely with blood, her hands covered in red. “Besides, it's crucial that we help each other since we are in this together.”

Winnie walked over and handed Astarion the jar.

“Well, since you are in a helping mood. We still need to find a better spot to set up camp.” The wizard said as Winnie wiped her hands off with a handkerchief.

“Hmm…I could wildshape into something with wings and scout out ahead. Surely, I should be able to get a better look around in the air than on the ground.” Winnie hummed.

“Excellent idea!” Gale chimed.

Winnie soon transformed into an owl and flew upwards and across the cave, staying low enough to avoid the stalactites. Her eyes scanned the area surrounding them before taking note of what looked like a large abandoned shack on a cliff. There also happened to be a stream running past it which dropped off into a small waterfall. It seemed suspiciously convenient, but was a pleasant surprise nonetheless. Winnie flew a bit closer, scanning the area for any signs of danger and found nothing in sight aside from what looked like humanoid bones, next to a hook horror carcass.

Well, that explains the abandoned camp, but how did that beast die?

Winnie wondered to herself. Whatever the case, this area had shelter, water and possibly supplies. It was the perfect spot to set up camp for the night. The druid quickly turned back to quickly reunite with her companions who had all been following her halfway there. She circled around them hooting a couple of times before leading them towards the abandoned campsite. Once everyone had arrived Winnie landed on the ground, returning to her human shape.

“I checked around the area. There doesn't seem to be anything dangerous aside from some human remains and a dead hook horror.”

“Oh, and that's supposed to mean this place is safe?” Astarion huffed in a skeptical tone.

“Well, whatever killed them isn't around anymore. And I can't smell anything around here that could possibly be a predator of any kind.” Winnie said before sniffing the air.

“I was unaware humans had such a keen sense of smell.” Lae’zel exclaimed.

“Normally we don't.” Gale added with a raised eyebrow at Winnie.

“I suppose I've spent so much time in wolf form it's rubbed off on my human side.” Winnie explained.

“So you're practically a puppy?” Astarion said in a teasing tone.

“Wolf.” Winnie corrected, “the point is. The area is clear. For now anyway.” The druid sighed.

“I'll survey the area again just to be sure. The rest of you should make camp.” Lae'zel said.

“Sounds good to me.” Winnie said before looking around in the abandoned shack. She went through the entrance which had a curtain as a makeshift door. Inside she set down her things as she took in the surroundings. There was a fire pit in the middle of everything, surrounded by chairs made from long logs. Winnie started a fire before making herself comfortable.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The party later gathered around the fire in the abandoned shack after everyone had finished setting up camp. Winnie sat quietly as Astarion took a seat next to her, his red eyes looked her up and down. The group one way or another ended up sharing some stories. And somehow of all things the stories turned into tales of old lovers.

“Ah, I remember it was like yesterday when 15-year-old Wyll snuck off into the Blushing Mermaid and had his first kiss.”

“You didn't have your first kiss until you were fifteen?” Astarion piped up, “how pathet-” he suddenly stopped mid-sentence as he realized he was still sitting next to Winnie who was giving him a look. “Never mind that! My first lover was tremendously handsome! Like a dashing prince from a fairytale!” Astarion exaggerated. Winnie just rolled her eyes at the elf’s tall tale. She didn't know who his first love was, but she knew damn well he didn't either.

“I'm sure he was Astarion.” Shadowheart said in a teasing tone. “What about you Winnie? Who was your first love? Before Astarion I mean.” Winnie paused a bit. Before Astarion there wasn't really anyone. Maybe an unrequited passing fancy here and there, but nothing mutual.

“No one.” Winnie said shyly, hands nervously fiddling with her pants.

“You must have at least fancied someone before?”

“I suppose...When I first came to Baldur's Gate, there was Vesperr.” Winnie said, beginning to reminisce about her time in Baldur's Gate. “He had to be the most beautiful man I had ever met.” Winnie blushed a little, her mind thinking back to her first real crush. Vesperr was a high elf druid with long beautiful blonde hair and stunning blue eyes.

Astarion scoffed at Winnie’s fond tone.

“Most beautiful back then perhaps.” He muttered under his breath.

“He helped me with some of my druid training, taught me what he knew. He was very wise and smart.” Winnie smiled.

“So why didn't you hook up with him?” Karlach asked.

“Well…. I was a teenager for one….and he's only interested in men.” Winnie chuckled nervously, “so you can see how that wouldn't have worked.”

“Ah, well I for one am rather glad. More of you for me. ~” Astarion flirted, running his hand over Winnie’s thigh and making her shutter.

“Funny, I would have thought you'd have more suitors. You seem like quite the romantic.” Shadowheart hummed.

“I suppose I'm just not very desirable.” Winnie shrugged with a sad look. Mind going back to her younger years.

~~~~~

Winnie’s time spent in the Lost Grove was peaceful, but not always pleasant. She often found herself the target of many of her peers' torment. She could remember running through the grass alongside her friend Demi, both of them in wolf form. The Grove's beautiful lush landscapes stretched as far as the eye could see. Winnie galloped further on ahead, claws kicking up dirt as she sprinted towards the village’s huts. The two were rushing to their training after goofing off and playing around in the forest all morning. Winnie was the first to arrive, returning to her human form with a smirk. “I win!” The ten year old cheered as Demi arrived a few minutes afterwards, changing back to her gnomish form.

“Of course you win, your legs are longer than mine!” Demi huffed, catching her breath.

“Not in wolf form they're not! We're practically the same size in wild-shape.” Winnie chuckled playfully as she looked down at her friend before hearing a laugh behind them.

“Ha! That's funny, because I'm pretty sure even in wolf form you're the fattest one here!” One of the other children, a male human, mocked. Two elven girls who'd been standing with him as they waited for their teacher, laughed loudly, not even trying to hold back.

“Haha..No one asked you Rowan.” Winnie growled, crossing her arms. Demi suddenly stood in front of her friend, glancing back at Winnie as if to say, ‘stay calm, he's not worth it.’

“That was mean, Rowan. You should apologize!” Demi scolded the human boy.

“Why should I!? We all know the truth! Just look at her! I don't think I've seen anyone as fat and ugly as her in the entire grove!” Rowan exclaimed.

“No one cares about your opinion Rowan. It's not like anyone wants to be your girlfriend so shut up!” Winnie snapped at him. Rowan chuckled with a mischievous shit eating grin on his face.

“It's not an opinion, it's a fact. You're so ugly that I doubt anyone will ever want to be with you without throwing up!”

Demi looked over and noticed the enraged expression on the human girl’s face. “Winnie don't!” She warned.

Winnie gritted her teeth and let out a wolf-like snarl before lunging at the rude boy, socking him right in the nose before pouncing on him and repeatedly punching him in the face. As Winnie nearly beat the snot nosed brat to death one of the elder druids rushed over.

“What's going on here!?” She demanded. The druid was an older half-elven woman.

“Winnie’s trying to kill me!” Rowan sobbed. The half-elf druid dragged Winnie off the boy. She glared at the woman like a feral animal, teeth bared.

“Get off of him you wicked unruly child!” The old half-elf hissed and suddenly smacked Winnie across the face. The sound of a slap got the attention of the Grove's Archdruid who'd just arrived to help with the apprentices’ lesson for today. The old human woman's eyes immediately landed on Winnie who had a red mark across her face.

“What in the hells do you think you're doing to my granddaughter, Myra!?” The Archdruid demanded.

“That girl of yours is a rabid beast, Winnifred! She just attacked my nephew!” Druid Myra stood in front of Rowan protectively.

“I thought I was going to die!” Rowan added.

Winnie’s Grandmother turned back to look at Winnie who was panting from the scuffle.

“Is this true, Winnie?” The Archdruid asked calmly.

“I-I…” Winnie muttered, feeling rather ashamed for her outburst. Demi quickly scurried over to the Archdruid and tugged on her robe. Winnie’s Grandmother leaned down and allowed the gnomish girl to whisper in her ear.

“Demi here says that boy of yours provoked my granddaughter. Perhaps you outta teach him some manners so he doesn't get his arse kicked.”

“You're letting her get away with this!? After she assaulted my nephew!? Unbelievable!” Myra hissed before tugging Rowan along.

“That girl's nothing but a weed amongst the flowers. Ugly and vile…” The old druid hissed.

“Yeah, yeah blow it out yer arse, ya old bitch.” The Archdruid rolled her eyes as she stood in front of Winnie and Demi.

~~~~

Years later Winnie was prowling the streets of Baldur's Gate alongside her tressym companion Madeline. Winnie had a sack full of food in one arm and she and the winged cat sprinted across the cobblestones.

“Hurry Winnie! He's coming!” Maddie called hopping up and hovering over the ground. Winnie glanced back seeing the merchant running after them.

“Come back here you thieving whore!” He shouted. The merchant had been a large human male with a thick beard. Winnie had seen him arrive on a boat a few days prior and just couldn't help herself when tempted to poke around his ship. Unfortunately, the young woman was definitely no rogue, so the merchant was able to spot her sneaking off the boat with a sack full of goodies. A wheel of cheese, some fine cuts of meat and wine! The contents were just too tempting to pass up! Not to mention there was enough in there to feed her and the rest of her crew. Arva would be proud of her for sure! She just had to make it to the sewers.

Unfortunately just as Winnie dashed for the man-hole that would be her ticket back to the undercity she bumped into a tall handsome half elf man, with jet black hair and green eyes.

“What's going on? Is someone hurt?” The man asked.

“I-I…I um.. I'm in trouble…” Winnie blurred, both confused by the collision and flustered by whom she collided with. His features were soft and nearly flawless.

“There you are, you ugly bitch!” The merchant suddenly caught up to Winnie. Maddie quickly dropped to the ground in front of the human girl and hissed, protectively.

The half elf man quickly stepped between Winnie and the merchant. “Afternoon sir, does there happen to be a problem?” He asked.

“That wench stole from me!” The merchant hissed.

“I need to feed my family!” Winnie exclaimed, stepping back behind the half-elf.

“Sir, can you not find it in your heart to give to the needy?”

“Needy!? She looks like she eats twice that much in a day!” The merchant shouted. Winnie glared at him, sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry.

“Here, how about I take care of the expenses? Say 50 gold pieces for your trouble.” The half elf offered, taking out a coin purse. The human man grumbled under his breath.

“I suppose…But I better not catch that bitch around my ship again or I'm getting the fist!” The merchant snatched up the money before stomping off. Winnie let out a sigh of relief as the half-elf turned towards her.

“Thank you, sir.” She responded, her pink eyes lingering over his handsome face.

“You might want to be a little more careful next time, miss. That merchant’s not likely to forget having to chase you across town.” The handsome man smiled at her warmly.

“Y-Yes! Of course! I-I'm very grateful you came to help.” Winnie sputtered, face turning pink as her heart pounded in her chest. “I-I uh…..Here…Take this!” Winnie said, taking a bottle of wine out for him. “It's the least I could d-”

“Feris! The hells have you been!?” Suddenly a woman’s voice shouted, loudly. Winnie looked to the side to see a very unhappy looking elven woman.

“Sorry my love. I was just speaking to this kind young woman!” Feris replied, his face growing nervous.

“Again!? This is the third time you've ran off with some harlot, Feris!! You cheating wretch!” The elf hissed.

“N-No my dear! It's not like that! I-I would never jeopardize our love for someone so repulsive!” Feris sputtered out frantically. Winnie’s eyes widened and her heart sank. It seemed the handsome stranger who'd come to her rescue was just like all the other shallow prick’s she's met.

“Well I suppose my repulsive ass will be taking the wine back then.” Winnie said flatly, snatching the wine back before stomping off, her tressym quickly following. Winnie proceeded to climb back into the sewers, leaving the unfaithful man alone to be berated by his wife.

The teen girl and her winged cat carefully wandered through the rank sewers before making their way into the undercity. Eventually they stopped in front of what appeared to be a seemingly normal brick wall. Winnie placed a hand over the bricks, taping them firmly to a specific rhythm before suddenly pressing down on one far to the right. The wall began to sink down, opening to a large cavern. Winnie walked inside with Maddie following. The bricks quickly closed behind them as they entered.

“Guys, I'm back!” Winnie called, walking into a large room with a bright shining ball of light floating above it, Illuminating the cavern. Under the light was a lush garden, with a small tree at the center. A tall effeminate looking high elf male was tending to the garden, long luscious blonde locks draped over his shoulder as his beautiful blue eyes glanced up at the girl.

“Winnie! Sweetie, welcome home! I hope Fi’s errand didn't give you too much trouble?” He asked, voice soft and sweet sounding.

“Ah..No Vesperr. I didn't have any trouble at all. I got the meat and wine she wanted.” Winnie looked off shyly as the high elf druid approached her. A gentle hand ruffled her hair, affectionately.

“Well, that's good. I was worried she was sending you off into danger. I don't see why that bard can't just eat the food from my garden instead of…dead animal flesh.” Vesperr grimaced.

“It's not an issue really. I'm happy to help everyone.” Winnie forced a smile.

“And that's why you're the best, sweetheart!” Vesperr said, pinching Winnie’s cheeks.

“Ah..Thanks um…Is Bekk back yet?” Winnie asked, cheeks turning a bit red, from the elf’s affection.

“Oh, my darling won't be back until later. He and the boss are taking care of some private matters. Troubles with one of the guilds I suppose.” Vesperr said, flipping his long blonde locks.

“Well…I want to talk to him when he gets back. He promised to help me practice some sword fighting.” Winnie stated as she began to walk away, eyes glancing back at the elf with a sad longing.

“I'll make sure he finds you when he arrives home, sweetie!”

~~~~

“None of my peers ever took interest in me growing up. Honestly a lot of them found me repulsive and had no problem telling me to my face. Eventually I just gave up on the prospect of romance entirely.” Winnie leaned back, taking out a bottle of wine from her pack and chugging it.

“Ah what do those assholes know! You're fucking gorgeous Winnie! I'd date you in a heartbeat!” Karlach huffed, steam coming off her body.

“Thank you Karlach.. I'm flattered but…. I just…erm…” Winnie wasn't sure how to put it.

“Winnie isn't interested in the fairer sex, Karlach. I doubt she'd like being burned alive either.” Astarion chimed in, leaning closer to Winnie.

“Oh, don't worry Fangs. I'm not about to try to steal Winnie from you.” The tiefling winked at him, noticing his arm slinking around Winnie’s waist.

“As if you could steal anything from me.” The elf rolled his eyes. Karlach just smirked at Astarion's blatant jealousy.

“She is right though. Only an idiot would find you less than enticing.” Astarion purred in Winnie's ear. His hand moved some of her messy brown locks out of her face. Winnie blushed a bit, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Such a pretty smile.” Astarion leaned closer to the druid female almost climbing on her. His face was full of lust and seduction, but for a moment Winnie could catch a glimpse of what looked like sadness. Astarion quickly resumed his alluring persona, not wanting Winnie to catch on to his intentions.

“Well, I believe it's time I retired for the evening.” Gale said standing up and exiting the shack.

“Me too. We'll need our strength for tomorrow.” Wyll said as Lae'zel silently followed him.

“Yes, rest would be good. Come along Karlach.” Shadowheart said getting up.

“Awe, but I was comfortable here.” Karlach whined.

“Come on, I'm sure Clive will be missing you.” The half elf said.

“Oh alright.” Karlach hopped up and followed after them, leaving Winnie and Astarion alone.

The pale elf smirked and climbed on Winnie’s lap kissing her neck as soon as the others left.

“You don't have to do this, you know.” Winnie said, shivering as she felt the vampire’s lips moving down her neck. “You don't have to touch me just because you feel bad for me.” Astarion stopped and grabbed her chin, making her look at him.

“This isn't about pity, my dear. It's about lust. I want you. All of you.” He pushed her down on her back, causing her to squeak as he hovered over her. “I honestly feel insulted that someone would even think of calling your lovely body repulsive.” Astarion said, cupping Winnie’s breasts gently, causing the human woman to gasp. “So soft and sweet. It's on my mind ceaselessly these days.” Astarion leaned down and licked Winnie’s neck.

“Astarion…” The brunette breathed out, feeling her vampiric companion grinding himself against her.

“Yes, my sweet?” Astarion breathed against her neck.

“Kiss me?” She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. Astarion simply smiled and pressed his lips to hers. He couldn't fathom why, but he felt the need to comfort her, to let her know how beautiful he thought she was. It was a strange urge; one he wasn't quite sure he liked. Perhaps he could use this to keep her wrapped around his finger at the very least. Winnie’s arms made their way around his neck, hands playing with his soft ivory curls.

“Ahh!” She moaned, feeling his cold hand slip into her pants and begin to stroke her wet folds. A single finger sliding inside her and making her whimper. Astarion took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, silencing her with his kiss as he continued to play with her womanhood.

That was it, he was just ensuring her loyalty. He needed her to fall for him after all. To make sure she'd never betray him. The elven vampire pulled down her pants, along with his own. He broke the kiss, looking down at her with soft eyes. He could hear his master's voice whispering in the back of his mind.

She'll hate you for this.

Astarion ignored it, forcing a smile as he looked down at his lover, his hand cupped her face as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Look at me, darling. I want to see all the beautiful faces you make while I take you.” And with that he slowly began to push in. Winnie gasped, biting her lip as he stretched her walls. Definitely not as painful as the first time, but there was a slight sting as he pushed all the way in. Winnie gripped his shoulders, taking a moment to adjust before she pushed her hips up against him, edging him on. Astarion needed little encouragement before he began to thrust into her, beginning slowly and gently. The druid pulled him in for another kiss, licking his bottom lip as he rolled his hips with a soft groan. She peppered his mouth with sweet loving kisses as her hands returned to his hair. Their tongues wrapped around one another as the pale elf began to pump himself harder into her, making her moan into his mouth. Winnie threw her head back and cried out as she felt him hit her sweet spot.

“Oh gods…” Winnie gently tugged his hair, resulting in Astarion thrusting into her once again, hitting the same spot as he bottomed out.

“Ahhh…Ahhh..” Winnie tilted her head, exposing her neck to him, and giving him an invitation to bite. Astarion almost immediately bit down into her neck, fangs piercing her flesh as her sweet, delicious blood filled his mouth. “Fuck!” Winnie cursed, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. Astarion moaned against her neck, hips bucking against her harder and faster with each thrust.

Others might have been completely repulsed by the wolfish druid, seeing her as not worthy of even a lustful glance. But to the vampiric rogue she was absolutely delicious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phew! Finally got this out. Sorry for the hold up on fanfics, burn out is rough. Thought it would be good to delve into Winnie's backstory a bit. Hope you enjoyed this one!

~Druid

Taglist: @vixstarria , @paganwitchisis , @kerwin290710 , @anukulee

165 notes · View notes

ohsc · 2 days

Text

requested by @prentissluvr | basic but completely adorable is sam trying to do his little girl's hair with his big hands and she's so small and he's like argh why is this so difficult T_T but he's trying so hard and he's so concentrated until she gets squirmy and he has to give up and do pigtails before she gets annoyed LOL

tysm for the request sweetheart this was SO soft to write i love your brain so so much <3 | juno verse, single dad sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.2k, fluff, pining, not proof read, requests only open for juno fics

“Like Fawn, daddy.” Juno told him, sat with her legs crossed on the bathroom counter, looking up at him through the mirror as she messed with the barbie she had held in her hands.

“Like who?” Sam asked, frowning in confusion as he brushed through her hair as gently as he could. Since she’d woken up that morning — and in turn woke him up by climbing into his bed and tugging on his hair — she’d insisted that she needed to look pretty for when Y/N visited. She was already dressed in one of her pretty dresses, a puffy blue thing covered in flowers. It was a little big for her, he’d had to roll up the sleeves, but there was no convincing her to wait until she’d had a growth spurt to wear it. On top of the dress, she wanted her hair to look pretty, too.

It was getting a little long, Sam knew that. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for the past few weeks, he hadn’t had the money or the time to go and get it cut, and he was not going to attempt to do it himself.

“Fawn,” she scowled at him through the mirror like he was stupid. “Fairy. She likes Tink.”

Ah, the fairies. A week ago she’d decided that she was too big for princess and she liked fairies instead. The idea of her getting too big for anything made his chest squeeze uncomfortably with the idea that his baby was getting older. He could remember when she could fit comfortably in the palm of one hand.

“I thought you wanted a braid, Junebug.”

“Mhm.”

“Fawn has a braid?”

“Yes.” She scowled again and he almost laughed at how cranky she got sometimes.

“Sorry, baby, I forgot,” he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You want one or two?”

She held up two fingers before she went back to playing with her barbie.

Sam honestly thought it would be easy. He could kind of remember how Jess used to braid hers — though he tried not to think of her much anymore — and since Juno had less hair it seemed easier.

It took him five minutes to even part her hair as she kept moving around, and by the time he had a section in his hands strands kept slipping out of his fingers. His hands felt clunky, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he tried to braid the three strands.

“Daddy,” she’d started squirming, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from complaining when she moved her head and he dropped one of the strands, the entire braid falling loose. “Done?”

He let out a breath through his nose. It wasn’t her fault, he usually just put her hair in a ponytail and tied a bow around it. “Not done, sit still please.”

He combed out the braid with his fingers and tried again, honestly a little irritated at how difficult it was.

She moved again and he tried to lean forwards as she did so not to pull her hair, but just ended up braiding the wrong strand of hair through.

“Juno, please,” he breathed out, letting go of her hair to shift her back in place on the counter. “You need to stop moving sweetheart.”

“Wanna play.” She whined, and when he glanced up at the time he sighed. He wanted to clean up a little and get some food going for when Y/N got there, and time was getting a little tight.

“Okay, alright Junie,” he leaned down and kissed her head, gave her sides a gentle squeeze as he looked back at her in the mirror. “Why don’t I just do some pigtails, hm?” She pouted and his heart aches. “It’s quick, and you can go play until lunch, okay?”

She nodded, and he kissed her head again with an apology before he brushed her hair and tied them into pigtails, securing two blue bows into her hair in the hopes that she’d find it just as pretty. It was a win when it earned him a sloppy kiss on the cheek as he lifted her up from the counter to get her down.

One of the bows was missing by the time Y/N got there.

She’d used the spare key to get in — she’d been doing that more recently, and he tried not to think about how it made his heart thump a little harder — and he’d been at the stove stirring the macaroni he was cooking, so he didn’t have time to stop Juno from running straight into her legs as she walked in.

“Hey princess!” Her voice was cheery despite almost getting knocked off of her feet, and Sam could hear his daughter giggling down the hall as he made sure the water wouldn’t bubble over before stepping out of the kitchen and into the hall. She had Juno on her hip, not even out of her coat yet, little arms tight around her neck with a tight hug. The sight made his heart swell, a dopey little smile on his face as he watched them for a moment.

“Are you all dressed up for me, Junie?” She cooed, hugged her to her chest, and beamed at Sam when she looked up and met his eyes.

His poor heart couldn’t take much more.

“Yes, s’my pretty dress,” Juno informed, chubby cheeks and a toothy smile. “Daddy did my hair wrong.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tattle-tale.” He scoffed, walking over to take his daughter into his own arms so Y/N could shrug her coat off. Juno didn’t seem to mind, just didn’t take her eyes off of the other.

“He did? Oh no,” she hung her coat up on the hook, and was smiling in far too much entertainment when she turned back around and faced them. “What did he do wrong? Is it the missing bow?”

“Want Fawn hair.”

Sam mouthed braids over the top of her head at her look of confusion.

“Ah, I see,” she reached out and gently combed her fingers through the ends of Juno’s pigtails. “Well, do you wanna know a secret, Junie?”

Juno nodded enthusiastically, and Sam almost dropped her when she leaned forwards fast to hear her.

“I know how to do braids,” she told her as if it was a secret, leaned down a little to be at her level. “Maybe you could go and get me your hairbrush and some pretty bows and I can do them for you, hm?”

“Okay!” Juno immediately started squirming and Sam laughed as he put her down, watched her run down the hall and into her bedroom, before he turned back to face Y/N.

“Thanks,” he breathed out a little laugh, a hand pushing through his hair. “Wasn’t gonna hear the end of that one.”

She giggled, smiled so pretty he thought his heart might give out. “Figured as much,” she stepped forwards and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, and he was definitely on the road towards a heart attack. “Maybe after lunch I could teach you how to do it? If she sits still for long enough.”

Sam practically grinned as he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

Oh he was so in danger.

#juno verse !!#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #spn #spn x reader #spn one shot #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural one shot

119 notes · View notes

mellowsadistic · 2 years

Text

Aubree’s face was bright red as she toddled into her nursery, looking for her Daddy. He’d been her boyfriend once, and she’d been a regular woman, but that was her old life. That was before the new laws came into place a few months ago, stripping women of their rights. That was before she went from a confident, independent career woman to her boyfriend’s personal property, his little toy to do with as he wished. And of course he couldn’t have just turned her into his little sex-pet, like had happened to some of her friends. No, that wasn’t good enough for him. He’d been determined to put Aubree in her “rightful place”, to “fix” her attitude and make her understand that women were nothing but overgrown children, and that she was no different.

Aubree’s heavy, loaded nappy jiggled between her legs as she waddled into the room. It was absolutely soaked with pee, just like it normally was, and there was a big, yucky mess in the back as well. Aubree had made poo-poos in her pants almost two hours ago – there was no way Daddy would ever change her diaper straight away, but it had been long enough now that she could try and persuade him.

There he was, bending down by her changing table, restocking it with a fresh supply of adult-sized nappies for her to pee and poop in. He heard her approach, and looked up. A wide, satisfied smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of his former girlfriend standing there slightly bow-legged, with her full nappy drooping between her thighs.

“Hi, sweetheart!” he said, his tone sweet and condescending. “Were you looking for Daddy?”

Aubree’s face was scarlet. She hated the way he baby-talked her! She looked at the floor and nodded.

“Awww,” he cooed, “did baby want some cuddles from Dada? Or maybe she needed something else, hmm? What’s the matter, sweet girl? Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Aubree seethed silently. He knew what she wanted! But she wasn’t allowed to ask for a nappy change. Daddy said she wasn’t allowed to use her big girl words that way. Any time she wanted a clean nappy, she had to do what Daddy called her “diapee dance”.

Aubree took a deep breath, and then, cringing with shame, she looked up into his smirking face and lisped, “Diapee danth, Dada!”

Then she turned around, fell into a squat, and started wiggling her diapered bottom from side to side so that the sagging seat of her nappy swung about madly between her legs. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she felt her wee-wee sloshing about in her pants and the horrible mess squish against her bottom. Tears of shame stung her eyes. How could this have happened to her?! She was supposed to be a grown woman in the prime of her life!

She could hear Daddy laughing behind her. “That’s Daddy’s little dancer!” he praised as she continued to shake her bottom and make her droopy diaper jiggle about. “That’s my little wiggle-butt!”

She felt him come up behind her and pat her bottom firmly. She stopped shaking it immediately. Slowly, as if he were savouring every second, Aubree’s Daddy turned her around and tilted up her chin so that she was looking into his face.

“Poor little thing,” he crooned when he saw the tears of humiliation on her bright red face. “It’s okay!” He stroked her cheek gently. “I know you’re upset because your big-girl life is over and you’re just a silly baby now, but you’ll get used to it, sweetie.” He patted her sagging diaper firmly again, smiling. “One day this will all be normal to you.”

“But I don’t want it to be normal!” Aubree wailed.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” her Daddy soothed again, pulling her into a cuddle and reaching down to pat her bottom, gently this time. “You’re just a little cranky right now. But Daddy knows how to make you feel better.” He moved his hand from her bottom to the front of her soggy nappy, and started to rub.

Aubree gasped. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but instead, totally against her will, she let out a slutty, breathy moan. She felt herself going even redder than before.

“That’s it,” her Daddy coaxed. “Good girl! Baby likes her rub-rubs, doesn’t she?”

Aubrey moaned again, biting her lip in pleasure as Daddy pressed the sodden, pissy padding of her used nappy against her sensitive little pussy.

Still rubbing the front of her diaper, he led her to a chair in the corner of her nursery. He took a seat, pulling her, facing him, into his lap.

Immediately, she started to grind her diapered pussy desperately against his thigh. A part of her wanted to stop, was screaming inside her head to control herself, but the pleasure was too much. Daddy always kept her on edge, saying it would make her easier to control. She knew she was proving him right, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now except humping his leg as hard and fast as she could. She felt Daddy press his knee up against her crotch, and she squealed in pleasure.

Aubree looked down at her Daddy, her eyes slightly crossed, her chin slick with drool, and saw him smirking. She let out a noise somewhere between a moan of pleasure and a groan of shame. She felt like a stupid baby. She felt like a dumb whore. With a final moan that made her sound like a bimbo slut, Aubree orgasmed in her soggy, stinky nappy and collapsed against her Daddy’s chest. She felt his strong arms hold her tightly against him, felt his hand cup her padded bottom. Then he kissed her on the top of her head and said, “That’s my little girl.”

#mellowsadistic

1K notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 9 months

Text

BIRTHDAY GIRL

pairings: eleventh doctor x fem!reader (romantic), amy pond x fem!reader, rory williams x fem!reader

summary: the chaos of your boyfriend the doctor, amy, and rory organising your birthday. but seems there’s some miscommunication and clashes when it comes to agreeing.

warnings: none! fluff, bickering between eleven rory and amy over who knows you better, kisses, hugs, short blurb

a/n: no clue why i haven’t yet written for one of my fav shows yet

you’re slumber is ruined by extremely loud voices originating in the kitchen. it wasn’t even morning in your eyes yet everyone was awake. eleven being awake made sense but rory and amy? especially amy with how cranky she gets. speaking of eleven, he wasn’t in bed.

which wasn’t odd since he quite literally didn’t need sleep but he usually got out of bed when you woke up. you’d find him reading, tossing a ball up and down, talking to himself and you, some of the more tame times. once you found him trying to do gymnastics in bed.

as you got up and made your way into the kitchen you found the three of them with a cake. “no! no! you’ve got it wrong her hair isn’t that short rory!” amy scolded as rory sighed, “i swear it is! did she not get a haircut?” amy slapped him upside the head which had the doctor laughing, “that was me you dummy. and you, quit laughing and get to icing.” the doctor raised his hands,

“ah but you see, i already have!” rory and amy’s gasps were loud. “green! you put green love hearts on the cake and- is that a hat? oh god is it a fez? and a bow tie?” amy groaned as eleven reached to adjust his own, “bow ties are cool.” the three of them spoke in unison, “i quite adore your bow tie collection eleven.” rory’s eyes widened as he realised you’d seen them. “no, no, no, no! you are not supposed to be here.”

so you wait in the living room in the meanwhile. not long after the three come in, all holding a, special cake. whilst from one side it looked gorgeous the other was a mess. you spotted a drawing of the four of you holding hands, the tardis in the background and it looked as if a five year old had drawn it.

the party in the living room has copious amounts of clashing colours and themes and they all had flour and icing on their faces and clothes. “we’re sorry for ruining it.” amy frowned, they all looked like kicked puppies and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“ruin it? i’ve got to be one of the luckiest girls around to have three people love me so much that they fought over my birthday and what to do for it. i love the cakes and the party. thank you guys. seriously.” you smiled as everyone slowly cheered up.

“you like it seriously?” rory asked as you laughed, “yes i do you idiot.” you pulled them all into a tight hug as you all laughed. you registered the rogue hand placing a certain fez on you’re head.

“now who needs party hats when we have these bad boys.” the doctor grinned as you placed the fez at the centre of your head. “i’ve never looked better.” he smiled at you, “never.” you kissed him sweetly, a hand on his cheek as you glanced over at rory and amy fussing over who got to give you the first slice.

“yeah, i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” you had your people right here.

#eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who x fem!reader

242 notes · View notes

coolkat223 · 3 months

Note

Oh great, you're in a cult!sagau. Everyone wants you. That said you do have godly powers at your disposal. Whenever a character gets a bit too worshippy of you, they get a SMITE! Which is to say, a bonk on the hand, giving them a cartoony lump. Anyone calling you "Your Grace" also gets a SMITE!ing. (Xingqiu is allowed to say "My Leige", though he's on thin ice.) I prefer the SMITE!ing to come from a cartoonly large hammer, but other means are welcome. Most importantly, it doesn't majorly damage or injure them but it does hurt like heck. (The younger ones get a simple flick on the forehead, I'm not that cruel.)

In more simple terms, cranky GN!Reader using their power to vibe check those who annoy/simp over them.

Now this will be very interesting. A GN!Reader who have enough of being called "Your Grace" decide to SMITE them to stop being overboard of what they are doing and added to it might be scolded them to stop doing it.

•You awaken in Teyvat, discovering that the inhabitants revere you as a god.

• All of the characters from Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine flock to you, calling you "Your Grace."

• ...And then you getting very annoyed by them calling you 'That' so many times and also that they all are getting too worshiping you...So you decide to teach them some valuable lessons 😈.

• Venti is the first to receive a SMITE! for his overly enthusiastic worship, resulting in a comical lump on his head and a lecture from you.

• Noelle tries to build a shrine in your room. SMITE! You remind her that her dedication to helping others is what truly matters.

• Klee, excited to meet you, gets a light flick on the forehead, making her giggle.

• Xingqiu greets you as "My Liege," narrowly avoiding a SMITE! but receiving a stern warning glance.

• Zhongli, with his deep reverence, gets a SMITE! for his formalities, resulting in a cartoonish lump and a lecture about normal greeting and a exter lecture of to not use Mora on over exaggerating stuff.

• Childe challenges you to a duel to prove his loyalty. SMITE! getting a very large lump on his head. You lecture him on the importance of peace and understanding over conflict.

• Ayato's elaborate bow and flowery speech result in a SMITE! and a reminder to keep things casual.

• Itto boldly proclaims you as the "Supreme Oni Overlord," getting a hefty SMITE! making him have the largest lump on top of his head and a lesson in humility.

• Kokomi devises a complex strategy to maximize your worship. SMITE! You encourage her to use her skills for the people's benefit

•Collei's shy reverence leads to a gentle flick in the forehead and encouragement to be more relaxed.

•Dehya's bold proclamation of your divinity results in a SMITE! and a lesson on equality.

• Clorinde's formal salute earns her a SMITE! and a lesson on casual interaction.

• Sigewinne's scientific curiosity saves her from a SMITE!, but she receives a cautionary note

• After each SMITE, you patiently explain your desire to be treated as a normal person, emphasizing the importance of humility, community, and genuine connections.

• Over time, the characters begin to understand, shifting their focus from worship to building meaningful relationships and working together for the betterment of Teyvat.

#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact venti #genshin impact noelle #genshin impact klee #genshin impact xingqiu #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact childe #genshin impact ayato #genshin impact itto #genshin impact kokomi #genshin impact collei #genshin impact dehya #genshin impact clorinde #genshin impact sigewinne #genshin impact d #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader

115 notes · View notes

lanwangjihouse · 10 months

Text

tag of the week:

#slow your roll nie-xiong 〰 there's a man i must pester ✳ @peanutbutter-nutella #love the three different reactions here 〰 NHS starts to bow 〰 WWX goes into full NOTICE ME SENPAI mode 〰 JC gets hit in the face by WWX's sleeve and looks sublimely cranky 〰 like if he had a pair of scissors he'd change the meaning of cutsleeve for all times 〰 that or stab himself in the eye ✳ @theendofcake

and also ✅

#I would have gotten exiled from cloud recesses for trying to pat LWJ’s cheeks ✳ @lulukitty

#tag of the week

161 notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 6 months

Text

She almost runs over her guitar on her way in the driveway.

For a second, the image is so obscene that she laughs. She’d gotten her hands on a permanent marker, when she was three, scrawled her name across the body with careful hands a tongue stuck out of her mouth in concentration. The N is backwards, and she’d creatively used the soundhole as the O. Hollered for Daddy to come look, to come ruffle her hair and swing her over his shoulders for a job well done.

He’d come to look, alright.

“Well, Helen,” he’d said to his wife, scrubbing a hand over his neck, “damn thing’s hers, now, I suppose.”

He’d always warned her to be careful with it. Scolded her for every sticker she’d slapped on the neck, every painted doodle on the face. Picked it up when she left it sprawled on the couch, placing it gently on the stand. Careful as he was with all her things, with her.

It’s strings-down on the pavement, now, half-crushed under the weight of her patched pink backpack. She takes a half step forward, chipped paint of her purple toenails scratching against the wood of the guitar. She crouches down and touches it, softly, wincing at the twang of the twisted strings.

“What…”

A flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention. She looks up just in time to catch the pale blue curtains swish quickly shut over the bow windows, to see the lights flick off.

Mouth dry, she touches her stomach. The swell is barely there — barely noticeable. Barely far along enough to feel the kick.

She wants to scream. She wants to run up to the door and bang on it ‘til Mama swings it open, wants to collapse to her knees and sob and beg for their forgiveness. Wants to tell them about how scared she’s been for months. Wants Mama to grip her hand in her calloused ones, sit her at the kitchen table and get her the exact type of tea that’ll settle her stomach and soothe her heartburn. Wants Daddy to smooth back her hair and press a kiss to the crown of her forehead, squeezing the curve of her shoulder. Wants Wally the cat to hop up onto her lap, mrrping and bumping his head into her sternum.

Instead, she swallows. She swings her backpack over her shoulders, picks her guitar gently off the cracked driveway, and walks straight-backed to her car. The key sticks in the lock, as it always does, and in her increasingly desperate attempts to force it open she twists the damn thing, and the key is sad and thin and bent when she yanks it out and she cries, almost, the tears build and build and build in her eyes, util suddenly she grits her teeth and decides that she will not. She shoves the key back in the lock and twists the other way, bending it back into shape, wrenching open the door and throwing her backpack in, relishing in the thunk as it hits the passenger door. With her guitar she’s gentler, barely, setting it neatly along the backseats and wrenching her hand back as hard as she can to make up for it.

She sits in the drivers seat so hard the whole car shakes. The steering wheel is warm, still, from the heat of her palms on the drive here from Molly’s house, because she’s been overheated lately. For the last four months, to be exact. Overheated and cranky and nauseous and heavy.

“Well,” she whispers, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. She wraps her arms around her stomach, squeezing her eyes shut, biting her tongue as hard as she can. “It’s you and me and sheer fucking will, I guess, kid.”

She rifles through her CDs until she comes across a case with a wood-pattern print and a man with a revolver lounging across it. She pulls out the scratched disc and feeds it carefully into the player, waiting for the deep baritone to rumble through her shit plastic speakers, and listens to the first bar, the second, the third.

But this is for real, so forget about me. Eight more minutes to go.

The light doesn’t come back on. The curtains don’t flick. Her Daddy doesn’t come runnin’ out the door, screaming for her to wait. Mama doesn’t follow out calmly after him. All there is is shadow, shadow, shadow, and the shape her guitar made upside down on the pavement.

She backs out of the driveway where she tripped and fell and lost her first tooth, and drives, and drives, and drives.

———

When she was little, her uncle took her to go see Alien.

He shouldn’t have. It was far too old a movie for a kid her age, and the clerk had told him so. But Noah Solace had a penchant for being stubborn and a chip in his shoulder, so he’d taken her anyway. He should have left when the alien leapt from its nest and definitely when one of the freaky little parasites burst from the guy’s chest, but he didn’t, and Naomi had watched frozen completely in her seat, palms sweating, spine rigid, squirming at the thought of something growing inside her. Of being betrayed by something that lived in the deepest recesses of her body.

The day after she leaves home, she taps her chewed-up fingernail on the sides of the wall-phone by a rest stop. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. The Bell logo is covered partially by someone’s tag, by a curved C and bubble O B A L T. Ironically, the worn Sharpie ink is purple.

617 343 7844. She knows the number by heart. She knows the song of dialling it like she knows Jolene. Bah-duh-duh bah-duhduh duh-bah-duhduh. One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three, four. Tap. Tap. Tap.

She sucks her lip into her teeth. Training her eyes on the purple COBALT tag, the obstructed Bell, the rainbow of wads of gum balled up in the corners, she presses the right buttons. Bahduhduh-bahduhduh-duhbahduhduh. Ring. Ring.

What is she doing. What is she doing.

Ring. Ring.

Naomi isn’t one for planning. She’s absent-minded, she knows she is. Flighty and distracted. Head in the clouds, never one to study. A coaster. A drifter. A real one, now.

Ring. Ring.

Hey, Uncle Noah. It’s been years since I’ve seen you. I keep forgetting to respond to your letters. How am I? I’m great! I slept with a god and now I’m nineteen and knocked up and homeless, to boot. Wanna come pick me up?

Ring. Ring.

God, what is she doing. What is she doing.

Ring. Ring. Ri—

“Fuck d’you want?”

Low baritone. Gravelly. Rough, slurring. Sleepy?

“Hello? Can you hear me? Who’s this?”

Hey, Uncle Noah. It’s been years since I’ve seen you. I keep forgetting to —

“Is this one’a them fuckin’ tele — fuck they called — tele…tele…”

— respond to your letters, great, nineteen knocked up —

“Tele…grams? Telefuckin…telemarketers! You one’a them fuckin’ telemarketers?”

— pick me up pick me up pick me up please —

“Swear t’a fuckin’ Jesus — I told you sons of bitches —”

— parasite —

“Ah, fuck you. You call here again I’mma fuckin’ —”

Click.

Riiiiiiinnnnnng.

She stares at her own finger on the receiver, white and bloodless. Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.

You have disconnected. To reconnect your call, please —

She flings the phone from her hands, against the receiver, against the box, clink, clatter, bounce, tap tap tap tap tap tap against the pavement. Tap. Scritch. Tap tap tap. And flees to her car.

———

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

She blinks back at the yellow little fuel light, humming along to the stereo. She can push it for a while longer, probably. Maybe even to the district line.

What happens if she just drives? If she drives and drives and doesn’t stop. Lets the little light blinkblinkblink at her, keepin’ time with Reba McEntire and her dying husband. That’s the night when the lights went out in Georgia.

She’d have time to pull over, probably. Coast on the speed she was going, cut across to the gravel shoulder. There’s no one else around, anyway. She could recline her seat and cross her arms over her chest and watch the clouds through the dusty top of her windshield. Sleep through the night and wake with the mourning doves’ cooing. Then what? That’s the night that they hung an innocent man.

Walk, probably. On the side of the highway, along the stretch of dying grass and reedy weeds. Guitar on her back and backpack tucked under her arm, strolling under the balmy March sun and sing to the cawing crows, to the rushing cars. Well, don’t sell your soul to no backwoods Southern lawyer.

Someone’d pull up next to her, probably. A trucker or a group of hippies. Headed to Oregon, they might say, round glasses covering bloodshot red eyes. Need a ride? ‘Cause the judge in the town’s got bloodstains on his hands.

And she would need a ride. She’d sing for them, maybe. Pluck along to Hey Jude on her out-of-tune guitar and holler with the wind rushing in from the old broken windows. They’d know someone in Cali, of course they would, slip her their card. He’s a manager, he’s looking for some new talent. You’re just what he needs. Well, they hung my brother before I could say.

Right. A knocked-up nobody who’s paying for gas with her last few bills and the four quarters she found in a sticky mess of juice in her cup holder. She’ll go platinum, right up there with the Stones and the Roses. Naomi Solace, part-time mom, full-time country star. The tracks he saw while on his way.

She drifts off the exit to the first gas station she sees. The blink, blink, blink of the light irritates her, now.

The highway town she drifts through looks like a carbon copy of the dozens of others she’s been to in her life. The giant grey rest stop, the 24 hour McDonalds, the three separate Mattress Firms. She skips over the Buccees — the stupid mascot gives her the creeps — and pulls into the first gas station she sees. Dollar twenty a gallon. Jesus.

There’s an old man at the pump across from her. He stares as he pumps his gas. Nausea builds in her stomach, but whether that’s the gross factor or the avocado-sized mass growing inside her, but she doesn’t stick around long enough to find out. She sprints for the little convenience store at top speeds, shoving open the door and ignoring the startled cashier and stumbling into the little bathroom in the back, barely making it to the stained toilets before emptying the contents of her stomach. She can see the half-digested junior bacon cheeseburger she had for lunch. It makes her throw up more. It also makes her mourn the eighty-nine cents she spent on it. Fuck.

She walks back into the convenience store grimacing at the taste of her own mouth. Nobody tells you that mouthwash and water bottles account for approximately eight billion dollars of your pregnancy cost. Of course, Naomi has never asked, but that should be a bigger part of the condom ads.

Or abstinence ads. She’s not sure how helpful a piece of rubber is against godly sperm. Mary seemed to struggle with the ordeal. Godspeed to her — she gets why the Catholics are so bananas for her now. This shit is hard and she handled it like a champ. Good on you, Mother Mary.

“Just these?” the cashier asks hesitantly, poking at the travel mouthwash, the water bottles, the singular packaged pickle, and the tiny jar of strawberry jam. And the plastic spoon she grabs from the hot table.

“And pump number 5. Please.”

“…Twenty-three sixty.”

Gas and water and a snack.

Twenty five dollars.

She has to count out her coins, hyperaware if the cashier’s dirty look. She bites back a comment about how frustrating it must be for them to have to do their job when it’s so busy out, what with one customer. Shame. Because she’s used up her irresponsibility quota for the next few years, she reckons, so she oughtta bite her tongue.

Half her fortune poorer, she walks back out to her car. The gas nozzle is still sticking out if it. She puts it back while holding her breath — do gas fumes kill growing babies? They probably kill growing babies — and shoves open her trunk, digging around. Blanket — no. Forgotten impulse purchases from months ago — no. Umbrella — no. Grad cap — no, and also why.

Finally, she finds what she’s looking for. She climbs onto the hood of the car, digging into her jam pickle, and flips open the paper atlas, turning the many pages until the map of Texas stares out at her, huge and overwhelming.

Twenty-six dollars and forty-nine cents. That’s what she has left. ‘Round twenty bucks for a full tank — that’s what she has left. 400 miles on a full tank. Seven or so hours until she’s out of the state.

“I could leave,” she says aloud.

And go where? New Mexico? Barely. She’s nowhere near LA, she’s nowhere near New York; hell, she’s nowhere near Austin. She’s nowhere near anything. Not even the nearest Amtrak station. She could drive until she runs out of gas, leave her car on the side of the road, and walk — to where? To the desert? To some serial killer’s basement?

To fucking find Apollo again?

“This is ridiculous.”

Slamming the atlas closed, she stomps back into the convenience store.

“There a secondhand store near here?” she demands.

The cashier regards her for a moment. Taking her in, probably, her ratty jeans that she can’t button anymore, her stained pink sweater, the greasy mess of her hair. The jam sticking to the corner of her mouth and the sliver of stomach pushing over the waistband of her pants. Her peeling flip-flops.

“Not here,” they say finally. “Highway town, ma’am. Ain’t got shit but what you can see from the road. You wanna real store, you gotta head ten miles east to Blowshow.”

“There’s a town called Blowshow?” she asks incredulously.

“There’s a town called Sheffield,” replies the cashier, mouth twitching, “which no one calls Joansburg, on account that the mayor was caught with his secretary gumming his green bean behind his desk by the film crew of the local news station coming to talk about a recent policy change. It’s got a main road and a general store, and will most definitely have a secondhand store.”

Naomi nods, rocking back on her heels. “Anybody hirin’?”

“Well, I ain’t been to Blowshow since last Sunday. And even then only to come see my sister. I wasn’t lookin’ at help wanted signs.”

“There’s gotta be somethin’.”

The cashier hums. The busy themself with a stack of cigarette boxes behind the counter, fiddling with a strip of cardboard come loose.

“There’s a diner,” they admit. “Di’s. Worst turnover rate than any place I ever been to.” The glance over at her, eyebrows raised. “Frankly, you won’t last a quarter year.”

Instead of sneering something about bowing out quickly and how they must know lots about finishing early, because that’s gross and also uncalled for, Naomi simply walks out. She gets in her car and starts the engine and turns the radio to thirty, making the warbling over the speakers so warped she might as well be listening to static, and guns it east. Or what she’s pretty sure is east, anyway. It’s fifteen minutes the empty pothole roads give way to something that looks like it’s seen a person in the last forty years. A little house sits nestled in the trees, bikes strewn about the driveway. A few hundred yards down road is a jogger that she gives a wide berth. In minutes, she’s pulling into a proper town — a tiny town, with more trees than people, but a real town with a real purpose. She slows to a crawl, eyeing hand-painted banners and peeling signs until she finds what she’s looking for.

The secondhand shop is small, clustered, and smells like mothballs. A shelf of broken old toys blocks her view of the rest of it and any people that may live inside of it, so she steps aside it, stepping carefully around chipped tile and stacked up boxes, looking for the right section. (The right shelf, really; nothing in this store is big enough to be a section.)

She finds what she’s looking for in a dusty old corner near the very back. Behind a broken typewriter and an ancient fax machine, and more random wires and cables than she can count, is a little portable cassette player. A pair of wiry headphones are wound around the hunk of black plastic, foam ear muffs cracked and peeling, and the worn label on the side reads Isobel. She grabs the clunky old machine carefully, brushing the pads of her fingers over the peeling paper label, and holds it to her chest.

At home she has a proper CD Walkman. It’s pink and pretty and covered all over in shiny foil stickers, and it’s chipped on the side from when she dropped it down the stairs. It skips every sixth song of an album without fail and she has to skip three backwards and two forwards to hear it. She has a collection of CDs to go with it longer than her longest shelf, and they’re arranged by colour and favour.

On another shelf, she finds a series of chipped cassette tapes. She flicks through the selection, frowning, trying to restructure hopes that were set too high and read labels written thirty years ago.

“I’ve got an extra box of them by the counter,�� says a voice, making her yelp.

“Christ alive, you could kill somebody,” she snaps.

The man shrugs. He wears the loudest shirt she has ever seen and cutoff shorts that are way too short for someone his age. There are streaks of blue in his white hair, and four sweatbands on his left wrist. Green purple grey yellow. One, two, three, four.

“I’ll take a look.”

She spends another ten minutes in silence. The box, at least, has a little more variety than the shelf, so she picks out what’s worth it. She ends up with a stack the size of her arm.

“I have ten dollars,” she lies, Mama’s lecture about showing your cards ringing in her head. “That cover it?”

“Beautifully,” says the man, shiny gold-tooth smile. His bug-eye spectacles gleam in the yellow light. He holds out his hand. “Ten bucks for the player and tapes.”

Looking him right in the eye, she hands him her last twenty-dollar bill. He glares, when he sees it, muttering something about liars and thieves. Strangely, he looks at her with a little bit of respect when he slams her change down onto the counter.

She walks back out to her car, unwinding the headphones as she does. She’s half-worried the ancient things will disintegrate in her hands, but they manage to stay whole, if a little warped. She slides in behind the wheel and pushes back the seat, settling against the itchy carpet upholstery. With a quick glance out the window to make sure there are no creeps, she pulls up her shirt, bunching it up around her ribs, and lowers the waistband of her jeans. She eyes her belly critically.

There’s definitely a bump. Not much she couldn’t explain away with a particularly filling lunch, but it’s hard and there and constantly kicking at her from inside. Slowly, feeling foolish all the while, she stretches out the headphones until both halves rest on either side of her stomach. She picks out one of the tapes, slides it in the player, and clears her throat.

“Listen, kid,” she says, trying to sound less embarrassed than she feels, “I don’t want some lame baby who doesn’t know that Tina Turner was country first, okay? That’s a — waste of my time.” She clears her throat, hovering over the play button. “I better get some engagement.”

The twangy guitar is loud enough that she can hear it through the headphones. Or maybe they’re just that bad. Either way, Alien Parasite should be able to hear it just fine, amniotic fluid be damned.

“‘Means your true love daddy ain’t comin’ back,” she sings along. She closes her eyes and relaxes against the recliner seat, bare skin tingling. “‘Cause I’m movin’ on, I’ll soon be gone. Mhm, hm hm. So I’m movin’ on.’”

At the crest of the bridge, as the guitar speeds up and beats get harder, there’s a point of pressure right above her navel. Another, a few seconds later, at her pelvis. A third right below her ribs.

“Acrobatic little freak,” she mumbles fondly, smiling at her stretched taught skin.

She adjusts the headphones, adjusts herself, and turns the music up louder.

———

#naomi solace i love you #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #naomi solace #will solace #naomi solace & will solace #angst #will solace backstory #should be a tag tbh #pregnancy #teen pregnancy #my writing #fic #longpost #lowkey this is original work. but whatever

118 notes · View notes