#I don’t use your amplifiers for a reason.

[ceoofyearning]

I only pray, don’t fall away from me

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The world feels like it’s falling apart around you, but Azriel finally comes home and helps you hold all the pieces together.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt and Comfort, depressive themes & thoughts, anxiety, nightmares, mentions of a minor character death (not the mc/reader) || please mind the tags.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: this week was though so here’s a bit of a hurt & comfort fic; hope your days are kind to you guys xoxo

Links: Fic Masterlist | My Art

You’re so damn tired.

The last few weeks have been difficult, to say the least. The healing house has been filled to the brim with the wounded and sick. Altercations with Beron’s soldiers by the border have been increasing at an alarming rate, while countless spies from the continent have been winnowed in after being caught by Koschei’s contingent forces. You can’t even begin to imagine the state of the civilians that might’ve been caught in the crossfire. 

There is tension in the air with the threat of the inevitable war looming on the horizon. It doesn’t help that the winter chill, in all of its foreboding fury, has come to ravage the lands and its people. You love your work as a healer, you really do. Some days, the thought of the good you do, the people you help, is enough to keep you going. But too often, it feels like a thankless job that leaves you drained to the core. 

In your free time, you’ve been parsing through ancient texts in search of information on Death Gods and anything that could be used against Koschei. His looming threat is a cloud of dread that hangs over everyone, especially Rhys. The least you could do is to help carry the burden. It’s not like you could sleep, anyway. These days it is as though your mind adamantly refuses to let you rest. At the very least, the task keeps you distracted when you’re stuck alone in your apartment. 

Ever since Azriel had been sent to the continent for a reconnaissance mission nearly a month ago, the apartment you share has started to feel a little too big, too desolate. Before you knew it, the white walls had been transmuted from your home into what felt like the bars of a cage. 

The two of you haven't been apart for so long since the mating bond snapped. You didn’t think you'd feel his absence as acutely as you did, but it felt like the loss of a limb where the wound refused to heal and you were already bleeding out. His part of the bond is blacked out completely, a devouring void where Azriel’s comforting presence should have been. It’s for your own safety, he said. But you can’t help it. You’re plagued with worry, with imagined hurts and tragedies, amplifying the brewing conflict in your mind. 

It is easier to catch yourself when Azriel is near. When the thoughts begin to swirl like a hurricane around you - winds whipping, oceans rising - it feels like Azriel’s arms are the only safe harbor you can rely on. But Azriel isn’t here now. 

What frustrates you most is that you’ve been better recently. You’ve been good. You ate your meals, slept reasonably, even had a goddamned routine set up. You guzzled down your tonics in hopes of smoothing out the edges of your frayed mind, that perhaps it could lend you some semblance of normalcy. But no. Weeks of being haunted by nightmares, of overextending yourself, of loss and suffering seeping under your skin day by day have taken its toll. 

You are just too damn tired. 

A child died, barely over thirteen years old. She was bastard-born, which meant she had nothing to her name other than the rags on her back and her birthright to suffer generational oppression and cruelty. This is the worst winter the Night Court has had in centuries, and she didn’t even have a decent roof over her head. Needless to say, she hadn’t been in the best health. But despite that, the moment her cycle had come, the men forced her to go through the clipping. In her struggle, the imbeciles accidentally nicked a vital artery. Normally, her Illyrian healing would’ve granted her a strong chance for survival, but she had been so sick, her body weakened by hours spent in the frigid cold. 

By the time you had been summoned to heal her, she no longer had the strength to recover. Numbness washed over you at the image of her unseeing eyes, the same shade as Azriel’s in the right light, trained toward the vast empty sky. You have a feeling it isn’t a sight you’d forget any time soon. 

You don’t know how long it’s been. The room is shrouded with a thick blanket of darkness, the only respite coming from the dwindling candlelight by your bedside. Only silence exists within these four walls, interrupted by the occasional patter of water leaking from the kitchen sink. You burrow deeper into the sheets, inhaling the trace of Azriel’s scent that still lingered like it would somehow quell this ache inside you. 

Despite spending most of the day bedbound, you’ve barely had any sleep. There is no respite to be found in the dreaming, only nightmares lying in wait. It seems your mind has a knack of bringing your worst fears. Azriel bruised, bloodied and utterly alone, lost, somewhere in the vastness of the continent, hazel eyes - his, then hers, then his again - glazing over, crimson seeping into the arid ground below. 

For the last few weeks, you’ve gathered your grief and worry like rocks to wear around your neck. Your body is heavy, the phantom weight sinking and settling within the marrow of your bones, refusing to leave. It feels like you could stay in this bed forever until you dissipate into nothing but sand, smoke and thought.

You managed to send out a request for the texts Rhys needed translated, but not much else. You’re thankful he directly portalled them on your worktable because you don’t think you could brave the journey to the library today. You don’t think you could do much of anything today, in all honesty. 

So there you lay, bundled up in a collection of blankets, at least three inches of cotton and down that never seem enough to warm you. A book rests in your hands, yet your eyes remain unfocused, not truly seeing the words.

You run your thumb over the crisp paper, knowledge older than you, older than this city and yet you couldn't even bring yourself to focus long enough to dissect their true meaning. Your will is liquid in your hands, slipping through the cracks in between your fingers. Accidentally, you tug too hard on a page and it tears easily beneath your touch. If you had your wits about you, you would’ve been horrified by what you’ve just done. But as you are now, it is difficult to care. 

That’s what you feel like at this moment, you realize. These past few weeks have left you feeling spent, worn out, paper thin. Absently, you stretch out your hand towards the candlelight, close enough to feel the warmth lick against your cool skin. The flame casts a brilliant silhouette around your shadowed hand. It’s a wonder why golden light doesn’t seep right through. 

That’s how Azriel finds you.

The front door of your apartment creeks open, letting in a flood of muted morning light. Your first instinct is to retreat beneath the covers to shield yourself. Azriel calls your name in the silence, worry permeating each syllable. No doubt, he is cataloging the mess your shared space had become in your unintentional neglect. 

You say nothing, wondering if you could just close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, anything to escape his scrutiny. A breath of relief escapes him when he finds you in bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he sits beside you. 

The urge to curl tighter around yourself is strong. But he repeats your name and, as though he had cast a spell, you unspool before him, your muscles unwinding, one fiber at a time. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, voice painfully soft.

“Okay,” you croak out from beneath the blankets. 

Azriel gradually draws the sheets away from your body, giving you ample time to protest if you’d like. Then, he rests his hand on your shoulder. Unbidden, a shiver runs down your spine, followed by a stuttered breath. You don’t realize how much you missed his touch until his textured hand begins its soothing path up and down your back, his heat sinking into your skin. 

Shame washes over you despite the bone-deep comfort you find upon his gentle ministrations. You don’t want him to see you this way. Azriel deserves better, the voices in your head insist. He deserves a mate whose mind does not devour itself at every given opportunity, a mate who does not quake beneath the weight of the world and the idea of their own immortal existence.

As though detecting your train of thought, his shadows leave their preferred perch on his shoulders to pool around you instead. Tendrils of darkness brush away the tears on your face, while some thread through your hair like a gentle breeze. 

On the other hand, Azriel urges you to rest your head on his lap. He begins to run his hand through your hair, uncaring of how greasy and tangled it has become. Eventually, his voice pierces the silence, injecting warmth into the distance between you. He hums a tune you do not recognize, but you can't help but cling to each winding note like a lifeline. Azriel has always had a beautiful voice - depthless, silken and soothing. It feels like a privilege to hear the song that he normally reserves for his shadows.

You must’ve been a pitiful sight to behold, and yet Azriel never looks at you like you are. He always treats you like something to cherish, something to love, like you’re someone he’s spent lifetimes desperately waiting for and you’ve been entirely worth the wait. A traitorous part of you feels like you’ll never deserve it, this love.

Azriel must sense the hurricane of emotions waging a one-sided war in your head, despite the mental shields you adamantly keep up. But he doesn’t tell you to stop, doesn’t brush off your worry with empty words and false promises. Instead, he simply says, “I love you.” 

He speaks it as though it is a fact like one would say that the sky is blue, and the grass is green, and the world would keep on turning in peteruity, orbiting the sun the same way you’ll continue to orbit around each other. His chapped lips ghost over your temple, murmuring your name like a plea, a prayer. 

“More than anything in this world,” he adds as he pulls you into his embrace. 

Your body is pliant for him, arms winding around his neck like that is where they’re meant to be. His arms wrap around your waist to hold you impossibly closer. Webbed wings stretch to curl around the two of you, creating a cocoon of darkness that keeps the rest of the world at bay. With your head resting on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat thudding in chorus with yours. 

“I love you too,” you reply after a long stretch of silence. “But sometimes I wish you could’ve had a better mate.” 

“There is no one better,” Azriel insists. “There is only you, my love; through light, through darkness, through whichever end. Only you.” And you feel the truth of his words as surely as the twinned beating of your hearts. Sometimes it’s hard to convince your traitorous mind that you could have this, that someone could love you so deeply despite having seen you at your worst. Azriel presses another kiss against your cheek, and despite yourself, you begin to believe his words.

You don’t know how long Azriel holds you like that, but it finally feels like a stretch of eternity you could bear.

“What can I do to help, love?” Azriel prompts, cupping your face in the cradle of his scarred palms - their texture, a familiar comfort. 

You turn over his question in your head for a few moments, savoring his scent, the sensation of his skin against your own. A part of you is tempted to ask him to lay beside you for the rest of the day, for a week, for an entire lifetime. You know Azriel would if you asked it of him. But beyond this room, the world continues its elliptical path around the sun and time still ticks on regardless of how disconnected you feel from your own reality. 

“A bath,” is all you manage to say.

Azriel nods, before reluctantly peeling himself from you. “Have you eaten?” 

“‘M not hungry,” you mumble as you sink back into the sheets, sighing as the comforter swallows you up. In truth, you can’t remember when your last meal had been. Hunger didn’t seem so pressing in the last few days.

“That’s not what I asked.” Azriel’s tone leaves no room for argument or negotiation. 

“No,” you finally answer, although with much trepidation. “Not yet.” 

He hums, clearly displeased, but says nothing else. You can already imagine the frown that must be stretching across his face. But it seems Azriel’s presence alone is enough to quieten your mind, at least for now. You must’ve been dead tired because it doesn’t take long for the rhythmic sound of Azriel's familiar footfalls to lull you into dreamless sleep.

"Love," Azriel whispers, his hand hovering over your shoulder, rousing you from your shallow slumber. You blink languidly until molten eyes come into focus. The candlelight flickers, and shadows dance across his face. Azriel’s normally sharp features are softened by the tenderness in his expression. You’ll never tire of waking to the sight of him. 

With a groan, you half-roll half-stumble out of bed. Azriel stays an arm’s length away in case you need him, but he’s careful not to crowd you. His shadows have no such reservations, however. The dark tendrils fretfully twine around your arms, making you smile. You thank them quietly, and for a moment, they seem to dance with delight. Regardless of your initial unsteadiness, you manage to pad all the way to the bathroom.

Upon crossing the threshold, the sweet scent of jasmine immediately overtakes your senses. The tub has already been filled up, steam rising from the sun-covered surface. You begin to unbutton your tunic, clumsy fingers tumbling through your first few attempts. Azriel steadies your hands with his firm grip, his shadows gently circling your wrists. 

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to your tunic, and you nod, not wanting to think anymore. His movements are precise, almost clinical, while he undoes the first five buttons, before bunching the garment in his hands and pulling it over your head entirely. Your skin breaks out in gooseflesh once exposed to the cold air. Azriel is careful to keep his gaze on your face, even as you step out of your undergarments. 

Azriel only betrays his composure when he traces your cheekbone, like he can’t quite help himself. From this distance, you have to crane your neck to look up at him. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. The bond glows bright between you, the golden thread gleaming as though it hadn't spent the last few weeks completely stretched thin. 

But then, Azriel withdraws, tilting his head to the steaming tub. Obediently, you step into the water’s warm embrace, the heat nearly stinging your skin. Logically, however, you know it’s only because you’ve allowed yourself to stay in the cold for too long. 

A relieved sigh escapes you as you sink further into the tub. One of his shadows rushes to pillow your heavy head as it rests on the tub’s rim. You thank the sweet little thing, and swirls of black sway back and forth like a dog wagging its tail. Meanwhile, Azriel takes his place by the head of the tub, sitting back on his heels. 

“I’d like to wash your hair,” he says and you're touched by the earnest quality his voice takes. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You’ve never been good at denying Azriel anything, nor did you want to. The more the ice beneath your skin thaws, the more you find that you want him near. 

Azriel begins by running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp as he pours warm water over your head. With a pop of a bottle, the floral scent of shampoo fills the air. He lathers the substance on your head, his touch tender even as his fingers work through the knots in the strands, untangling them with care. 

After a while, he rinses off the suds and coats his hands with oil. He begins combing his fingers through your hair, starting from the ends and working his way up. The rhythmic motion of his fingers is calming as he draws circles against your scalp. You find yourself melting into the moment, feeling utterly content for the first time in what feels like a very long time. 

Once done, Azriel grabs a small towel and asks, “Do you want help washing?”

You shake your head, wanting to do this for yourself, at least. Understanding flashes in his eyes, and he spares you a soft smile. With that, Azriel leaves the towel by the tub and politely excuses himself from the room. With the door left slightly ajar, you could still hear him move around the apartment followed by the lyrical clinking of silverware against ceramic.

It takes you a few minutes to gather the energy to lather yourself with soap, and a few more to finally rise from the bath. But once the grime is off your skin, you feel a bit of the weight wash off with it too. You feel a bit more like yourself.

After drying off, you tug on the silk robe Azriel has left for you, securing it loosely around your waist. Upon exiting, you spy him by the dining table, scooping a generous serving of soup into a bowl. The mouthwatering aroma of rich broth wafts through the room, and you realize just how hungry you are when your stomach growls in protest. You approach him from behind, making sure that each step is audible.

Azriel continues to set up the table, but you can tell he’s aware of your presence from the way his shoulders seem to relax. The sudden urge to have him close is palpable, an instinct so deeply ingrained into your being. So,  gradually, you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face on his back. You take a deep inhale, breathing him in - a lungful of moontime mist and cedarwood smoke. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” you murmur against Azriel’s back, your voice muffled by his shirt. 

“I’m glad to be home,” he whispers. His hands abandon their task in favor of twining his fingers with your own. 

Azriel turns to face you and holds your face in his hands. Beneath the swathes of sunlight, his eyes are alight with golden flame, flecks of green scattered over his irises like an afterthought. There is nothing but love in his gaze, nothing but acceptance. 

“Thank you,” you say, tilting your head so the words could kiss his lips, not quite touching but close. “For being here, for loving me, for choosing me, everyday.” 

“I will always choose you,” he vows, before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Today,” another peck on the tip of your nose; “Tomorrow,” one more on your cheek; “And all the days after,” he finishes with a chaste caress on your lips.

Then, he rests his forehead on yours, your bodies slotted against each other like a lock and its predestined key. In Azriel’s presence, you find it easier to breathe, easier to simply be. For the first time in a long time, your mind is clear and your heart beats in a calm, languid pace that matches his own.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you request, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel’s gaze is searching, scouring for any hint of anything short of absolute certainty. Perhaps you should tell him that in this world of constant change and chaos, he’s the only one you’re certain of.

Azriel must be satisfied with what he finds written across your features because he replies, “So kiss me then,” the ghost of a smirk playing across his lips.

You’re surprised to find that it’s easy to return the playful expression. Your rise to the tips of your toes while your fingers thread through his raven black hair. When your lips touch, it is as though the world breathes a sigh of relief. Reality realigns and everything outside the two of you and your shared breaths turns inconsequential. He moves against you with practiced ease, like the natural ebb and flow of the tide.

An eternity of this, you think, doesn’t seem so daunting after all. 

AN: i’m not sure if that was too much but thank you for reading 💙 As always, i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts

English isn’t my first language, so if you see any mistakes, please lmk thru dm! 💙

Also, I just wanted to yap about the Az fics im in the process of writing:

1. Vampire!Azriel x Reader (Working tittle: Ashes in my wake)

I just love the idea of cannibalism (or yk, blood drinking) as a metaphor for love in literature so here we are. ( @/annikin-im-panicin this is ur influence) This one is a bit of a dark fic (nothing too crazy tho, I think), so i’m not sure how it’ll be received. But the idea has been haunting me for yonks so I just had to write it.

2. Tattoo Artist!Azriel x Lucien’s Best Friend!Reader (Working tittle: Drink dry the river Lethe)

This one is a multichapter fic (maybe 4-7 chapters, we’ll see) so it might take me a while before I start posting, but i’ve mostly finished writing the first (very smutty) and second (very angsty) chapter. I ‘m not entirely sure what direction to bring this yet but maybe you guys can help me decide?

Unrelated to Az, but i’ve been brainworming a poly dark-ish innocent!reader x Feysand fic, and a slightly less dark and more sappy(?) poly warrior!reader x royal!nessian fic. I’m so excited to start these but my pile of wips is giving me the stink eye 😂

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I’m a musician and I recognize the need for practice BUT JESUS FUCKING CHRIST DOES EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE HAVE TO PRACTICE THEIR INSTRUMENTS AT EVERY HOUR OF THE DAY

I’m trying to get shit done and the constant noise is sucking the life out of me. The man finished the whole upstairs himself for his instruments and didn’t even think of soundproofing for recording purposes. I haven’t even found a place yet and I’m already looking at soundproofing.

[amourane]

love notes in music

pairing: drummer!theodore nott x rich girl!reader

genre: fluff, modern au

w/c: 1.2k

summary: you always got what you wanted and the extremely hot drummer was no exception.

warnings: none

a/n: i am here to push forward the drummer theo agenda because yes yes and yes

Trouble was coming. You could feel it in your bones. Maybe it was the extra shot of espresso you had today or the wild predictions in your horoscope, but you definitely sensed something brewing. It didn’t help that Enzo had interrupted your lunch and dragged you back to campus for god knows what reason.

"Enzo if this is another one of your tricks to get me to dance with you it's not going to work. Remember what happened last time?" 

You dug your heels into the grass as your best friend continued to drag you across the field. The campus auditorium came into view and you frowned. There was no reason for you to even be there today so why was Enzo tugging you along like bait?

“Yes Y/n I remember what happened last time.”

"I fractured my ankle and I do not want to wear a cast ever again. I couldn't match the darn thing with any of my clothes." You huffed out a breath at the memory of the ugly accessory that the doctors had insisted on your wearing despite your protests. 

Admittedly you were a bit of a spoiled brat but at least you knew that you were. Going to a normal university was one of your father’s choices. You would have never gone somewhere so shabby on a daily basis. Truth be told on the first day, you were actually planning to ditch and go grab a chai latte. Then you bumped into Enzo accidentally and the two of you seemed to click. 

It was a good friendship. He’d always be able to tell you when you were being a tad bit annoying because of your rich girl behaviour and you’d be able to join him in his multiple activities. One which led to the infamous ankle incident. 

“Don’t worry Y/n, you’ll still be able to wear that Gucci jacket-”

“It was an Armani jacket.”

“Yeah yeah.” Enzo pushed open the door to the auditorium, and you were immediately greeted by the sound of drums pounding heavily. The amplified sound hurt your ears. “Welcome to the band.” 

“Um...Enzo, do I need to remind you of the time when I broke a guitar?” You nervously watched the live band on stage. Technically it wasn’t your fault that the guitar broke. Enzo never did tell you how to properly use it. “And when did you join a band?”

“Please don’t remind me Y/n also I didn’t actually join the band I’m more of a-”

“Hey Enzo!” 

The music stopped. Your head whipped around and your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets at the absolute hunk that had just shouted. His dark hair seemed to glow under the spotlight making him look like some sort of angel. Your mouth ran dry when he waved a drumstick at you. His fingers looked as if they’d been carved out of stone. And his biceps. God his biceps. The guy was ripped. He was a drummer as well. What was more sexy than a drummer?! 

“Hey Theo!” Enzo, your backstabbing friend who knew your weakness for hot boys with dark hair that played the drums, embraced him in a tight hug. “The practice is going well.”

“I know!” 

Good god, his eyes were like beautiful whirlpools of love. The two boys started talking animatedly about something to do with music. There were a few words thrown here and there that you recognised but other than that you stood watching wide-eyed at the conversation in front of you. 

“Who’s the pretty lady?”

Theo turned to face you and seeing his face up close only made you want to kiss him more. He really was gorgeous. You cleared your throat, straightening your skirt. “I’m Y/n, Enzo’s best friend, and you are?”

“Theo.” He offered you his hand, which you shook. Wow, his hands were soft. You were almost jealous. Time to buy new hand cream. “Hey, I’ve heard of you. You’re that girl who nearly broke her foot when dancing.”

Your cheeks flushed. Was this your legacy now? The girl that nearly broke her foot while dancing? How horrible. You would much rather be known for your stunning looks or incredible fashion sense. 

“Actually I twisted my ankle but who’s keeping track?” 

“Y/n isn’t the best dancer or guitarist.” Enzo chimed in. “She’s really good at maths though, she’s my second brain.” He said it as if you were simply another organ in his body, but you let it slide, trying to make a good impression on the drummer boy.

Theo chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, it's good to know Enzo has a brain to rely on."

You giggled at his remark, feeling the tension ease a bit. "Yeah, he needs all the help he can get."

"Hey!" Enzo protested, a small pout forming. "I'll have you know I'm quite capable on my own."

"Sure you are." You teased, nudging him playfully. Then, turning back to Theo, you asked, "So, what kind of music do you guys play?"

Theo's face lit up with enthusiasm. "We're a rock band, mostly. Some original stuff, a few covers. We're actually looking for a new guitarist. Interested?" He winked, clearly joking.

You shook your head, laughing. "After what happened last time? I think I'll pass. I'm more of an appreciator of talent than a participant. But I might be persuaded to attend a private concert."

Theo laughed, a rich, warm sound that made your heart flutter. "A private concert, huh? I think we can arrange that."

Enzo rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, here we go."

Ignoring Enzo, you leaned a bit closer to Theo, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "So, Theo, do you always look this good while playing the drums, or is today a special occasion?"

Theo raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a smirk. "I guess you'll have to come to more practices to find out."

You gave him a once-over, pretending to think it over. "Maybe. I do have a very busy schedule, you know.”

“Sounds like a yes to me. We’ve got a gig this weekend, free up some space in that glamorous life of yours and come.

You tried your best to conceal your excitement at the fact you had just scored yourself a date with a very hot drummer. Forget about trouble today was definitely the best day of your life. 

"Alright, I'll be there." You agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "But only if you promise me a private drum lesson afterward."

"It's a deal. I'll make sure you get the VIP treatment." Theo’s grin only widened and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. He really was handsome and if you didn’t know how he was single but that was good news for you.

“I’ve got some studying to catch up on but I’ll hold you to that.” You offered him a wave goodbye as you made your way out of the auditorium with Enzo. Theo simply smiled, reciprocating your action. 

A giddy feeling overtook your body as the sun shone down on you. There were millions and millions of butterflies soaring in your stomach and you could only squeal at the idea of seeing Theo in the next few days. Before your best friend could say anything you spun on your heels, this time dragging him along with you.

“We need to go shopping right now, I need a new outfit for the weekend.” 

Enzo could only groan as his feet automatically moved. It was going to be a long day.

[wilwheaton]

the scorpion doesn’t care who it stings

I posted this on my Facebook four days ago, and it seems to have taken on a life of its own for a minute.

I thought I’d repost it, here:

I can not fathom the emptiness, the insecurity, the insatiable need for attention and validation, the staggering arrogance, the malevolence and total void of human experience that is Elon Musk.

He's the richest man on the planet. You can't go anywhere or do anything without interacting with something he's part of in some way. There are literal millions of people who uncritically worship him, in spite of overwhelming evidence that he's a douchebag. Some number of them will come after me, as they come after anyone who points at their naked emperor. They'll spend entire days going after me and people like me, slavishly serving a man who does not even know they exist. They are his army of fools, uncritically serving his every whim. And it still isn't enough.

He can have any material thing he wants, and he will *never* be happy or satisfied. He has no real friends. Every single person around him is either a viper, a parasite, or both.

So what does he do? He bullies and threatens and harasses and trolls and behaves like the weak, scared, insecure child he has always been. That's a tragedy for him, but it's dangerous for us. He doesn't care what he destroys or who he hurts as he chases this existential thing he cannot ever have.

You know the saying "hurt people hurt people"? He's a hurt person who is hurting our society, making people I care about less safe. The consequences of this one man's midlife crisis are global, and that terrifies me.

In a comment, about an hour later, I added:

You know what's really interesting is the tiny number of people who are attacking and harassing me are either typical right wing idiots who all spew the same garbage from behind their wraparound sunglasses, or these weird nerds who are DESPERATE to justify how toxic and cruel and destructive Elon Musk is. Like, nerds, listen to Old Man Wheaton, please. 

Don't hitch your wagon to Elon Musk. There are countless people who are amazing and genuinely good, who do all the things we wish we could do. Stop defending this piece of shit who would push you into a volcano without even learning your name, if it would save him half a second on his way to his next shitpost on $8Chan (formerly known as Twitter).He doesn't stand up to anyone. He doesn't stand up FOR anyone. He is not your champion. He's angry and chaotic and destructive, and you have to understand that the scorpion doesn't care who it stings.

Finally, I want to add two things: 1) It’s interesting to me that a lot of the people who came to my post to be dicks used a lot of MAGA language. It reminds me of this thing my friend says about concerts: the audience looks like the band. Of course there’s substantial overlap between the angry, hateful, terrified, cowards who support Trump and the same who Stan Elon Musk, and it’s real interesting to see it in action.

2) I haven’t used Twitter for years. I quit before it was popular (lol) because it was better for my mental health. I logged in once when my book was published, and I deleted all my tweets when he announced he was buying Twitter. When he took over and immediately amplified a conspiracy theorist, I made my account private. In a perfect world, I would delete my account entirely. But I have to keep it for reasons I hope I don’t have to explain. After I posted this on Facebook, it made its way around Twitter (still is, four days later, which is ... a thing that is happening) and when people went to look at my account, they saw that it was closed. As much of a fucking manbaby Elon Musk clearly is, he didn’t do anything to my account. In fact, the only reason he even knows I exist (if he does) is through a vanity search of his name. I locked my account on my own, and so should you.

I am only on:

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and my blog that I’ve been neglecting for too long at wilwheaton.net.

I’ve had a Reddit account since 2006, predating user-created subs! I’m u/wil there.

Okay that’s all. Thanks for listening. Please choose to be kind.

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✩࿐

pairing: lyney x gn!reader

content: fluff, modern au, high school au, friends to (almost) lovers, mutual pining, theatre kids, lyney and the reader rehearse a kissing scene

summary: playing the role of his lover in a drama production is easier said than done, especially when you’re just beginning to realize the nature of your feelings for him.

a/n: i had no inspiration for a while but then lyney came along. i’m so normal about him. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

When you were told that you had to kiss your best friend for a school play, you were in shock and disbelief — not because you were repulsed by the thought of playing the part of a couple, but because you realized that you didn’t mind the idea of his lips pressed against yours.

You’re not quite sure when the feelings crept up on you, dawning in your heart like the hazes of peach and azure that dust the horizon at sunrise. It feels like it’s been an eternity since you started loving Lyney, but you’ve just never noticed that your adoration was beyond platonic. 

However, after experiencing your epiphany, you’ve been wondering if he shares your rose-tinted sentiments. Slowly but surely, you observe that the lines between friendship and romance have become blurred, fusing together in a myriad of watercolour hues.

Every once in a while, Lyney will hold your hand for no reason, the softness of his skin akin to the caress of gilded threads of sunlight. There are also instances where he’ll hug you for just a little too long, clinging onto you as if he never wants to let go. And of course, you’ll never be able to forget the sentimental nights spent gazing up at murals of sparkling constellations dotting pristine navy skies, where you cuddle with your best friend in an attempt to stay warm.

In these instances, a simple question lingers in the short silences, an untold inquiry that neither of you care to utter in fear of shattering the status quo.

What are we?

So now, as you sit across from Lyney atop the velvety cushions of his living room couch, ready to rehearse very kiss that sent you spiraling into a bout of infatuated hysteria in the first place, your heart can’t help but race. The melody it sings is one that speaks of perplexing feelings and a hope for fairytale endings, and it only amplifies as you look into pale violet eyes that sparkle as iridescent petals flutter about in their depths.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Lyney whispers, smiling at you reassuringly. There’s something soothing about the expression on his face, embodying the serenity of a marine zephyr in the midst of a cruel summer.

“How can you be so calm when we’re about to practice a kiss?” you ask, voicing your thoughts out loud. “What if we’re not good enough?”

Truthfully, you’re a nervous wreck. Your fingers tremble, and your mind feels blank. You’ve always known that Lyney was born to be on stage, but you didn’t think he’d be so nonchalant in a situation like this. His disposition is completely composed, not a single spark of anxiety shining through his tranquil demeanour.

On the other hand, you’re constantly pondering the what ifs.

What if you mess the scene up? What if it turns out looking awkward? What if it’s so horrendous that it makes the audience uncomfortable.

However, in total contrast to you, Lyney simply chuckles, his voice ringing out in a clear and soothing fantasia.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures you, keeping his gaze fixated on you. “I’m sure our chemistry will be absolutely perfect. After all, even Lynette has mistaken us for a couple.”

“She has?” you blurt out, both shocked and embarrassed that Lyney’s twin has had her misconceptions about your relationship. The two are practically telepathically linked, so the tall order of fooling Lynette would more or less be akin to deceiving the heavens above.

“She has,” Lyney confirms, a mischievous spark of violet electricity blazing through his irises, “and that’s why I’m certain we’ll be able to pull this off flawlessly.”

He gently laces his fingers around your hand, bringing it up to his chest.

“Besides, it’s not like I’m not nervous at all.” From beneath the soft fabric of Lyney’s clothes, you can feel a gentle thrumming, a beat that resounds at a tempo matching that of your very own heart. “You know, even the greatest of performers get stage fright sometimes.”

In a mystifying twist, you feel more comfortable now that Lyney has told you that you’re not alone in your anxiousness. Your relief defies all logic, but perhaps it’s the knowledge that your feelings aren’t entirely unreasonable that soothes your nerves.

“I see,” you whisper. “Well I’m sure you’ll do great. We’ll get through this together.”

Lyney nods.

“I’m just glad it’s you,” he says, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought. “Actually, ‘glad’ would be an understatement. ‘Beyond overjoyed’ is more accurate.”

Your breath hitches, and for a second, the world seems to still, suspended in a momentary utopia. But despite your giddiness and the euphoric feelings that arise in your heart, you shrug Lyney’s words off, trying your best not to get your hopes up. After all, if you expect too much, you might find yourself disappointed in the end.

“The feeling is mutual. Although maybe we should get to rehearsing now. I think I’m ready,” you tell him, pulling your hand out of his grasp in a light motion, clinging on to the last of his warmth as his skin grazes yours. It’s reminiscent of fading sunlight comforting you with the dazzling radiance of a dying crepuscule, lulling you into a daze as it causes shades of twilight to waltz in a dance of fantastical wonders.

“Your wish is my command,” Lyney responds playfully.

However, after only a few seconds, his features shift into a more serious expression. Although the same smile is still adorning his lips, it’s softer now, more sincere.

Is this all part of an act, or is it real?

Additionally, an unidentifiable emotion now glints in a display of diamond lights, illuminating the seas of amethyst contained within Lyney’s eyes. Locks of platinum hair, composed of starlight essence, frame his face in a way that makes him look undeniably handsome. Once again, your heart, which had just barely stilled, begins to beat in a frenzy.

You want nothing more than to freeze time, stay in this ephemeral moment, relish in the sensation of his breath gently tickling your skin and engrave the ethereal sight before you into archives stored deep within your memories. But unfortunately, it’s impossible to pause the scene before you. Reality, unlike the countless movies and videos you’ve watched to study your part, stops for no one.

And before you know it, the divide between your lips and Lyney’s is diminishing, the blank space fading at a pace that feels both far too rapid yet far too prolonged at the same time.

Closer.

Closer.

And closer.

Until your lips meet in a clash of opalescent sparks, shedding light and embellishing the magical moment with an atmosphere worthy of any stage. The lilac butterflies that dance in the pit of your stomach prompt sensations of glee to arise within your heart.

His skin is soft and warm, and the feeling of his lips against yours is just so right. There’s no one else you’d rather kiss. There’s no one else you’ll ever long for. There’s no one in the world you’ll ever love more.

No matter how much you deny it, your relationship has crossed the line from platonic to romantic, gradually edging closer and closer to a thin border before finally falling over onto the other side. Your kiss with Lyney confirms everything. There’s far too much passion, far too much care and longing exchanged in a single act of affection.

Best friends don’t kiss each other like this.

At this point you’re certain the feeling is mutual. Now, all you have to do is wait until one of you inevitably confesses, and you’ll both be able to finally live happily ever after, basking in the splendor of true love.

thank you for reading <3 if you enjoyed this fic, i would really appreciate it if you could comment or reblog!

[tiyoin]

Hiii this is the first time I’ve sent in an ask so I’m a little nervous but your work especially twisted anxiety🌀 just makes me feral❤️ (also feel free to delete this if I make you uncomfortable)

But twst🌀reader being good at sing has got me in a choke hold, it feels very princess coded lol

I mean 🌀reader has grim, so they have an animal companion, they can sing🎶, they have a ‘prince’ the twst boys+yuu and they have a curse! anxiety‼️

This idea has just been giving me so much brain-rot I had to share it with you<3, and don’t forget to take care of yourself because I know how hard making & writing is so have a nice day/night

WELCOME ANON 🫶

and dont worry!! im not uncomfortable in any way, and I apperciate you looking out for my comfortably, truly.

and im so glad you like twisted anxiety!!🙈

but holy shit I never thought about reader being princess coded CAUSE YOU'RE SO RIGHT???

I DONT KNOW WHY THIS HASNT OCCURRED TO ME

THINKING ABOUT MANAGER 🌀 READER AT THE VDC FOR SOME REASON ATTRACTING ROYAL SWORD STUDENTS????

yeah 🌀 is very closed off, not looking at people in favor of the ground, hovering around other manager yuu and the rest of the nrc squad.

but that just makes the rsa students go 👁️👁️

reader is freaked out and starting to get paranoid that everyone is watching them and that there must be something wrong with them. is there something on their face? does this uniform make them look fat? is there sweat stains on their back?? arm pits?? oh god can they see their underwear?? and they're clinging to yuu like a life line

(yuu doesn't mind because they're just happy that reader is clinging to them so yuu can keep an eye on them hehe🤭)

of course vil sets reader off to cool down because he can't have their manager bring anxiety to the rest of the performers. so they go to get food!

until they bump into an rsa student...

"oh sorry, I didn't see you there!" all while they're staring at you like this:

LIKE SIR BACK AWAY!!

reader coming back to the vdc crew with a thousand yard stare as they're clutching a churro.

OR

going back to singing reader,

maybe they're in their little hiding place the woods just letting their feelings out. maybe they go a little too far and wonder onto RSA property (hypothetically because I dont know how far away the schools are. but if it's far... they take a magical little short cut that chenya uses to sneak on over 🤭)

or maybe rsa guys are doing a 'test of courage' and are sneaking tot he woods of nrc. MAYBE THEY'RE EVEN PLAYING A SCHOOL PRANK TO START A PRANKING WAR-

but one of you are in the wrong woods and the rsa guys hear and see you singing. while yes, 75% of the population is some kind of nobility they know that there aren't any princesses here. especially on sage island.

but maybe you are?? because you're a girl, you're singing about true love, the animals seem to like you, you're wearing a.. dress? a robe, even. and you look so good 🙈

and when they see you- oh no! you saw them first!

its like the fucking hunt from snow white HASDBIWEUFB they're chasing after you and you're literally trying not to scream or cry

oh god everything is so much more amplified. and luckily you escape and race into ramshackle like your life depend on it (because it did.)

AND OH MY GOD YOU ALMOST GOT MURDERED!!!

but the rsa boys are gushing and spreading rumors of a beautiful ghostly girl who sings for her true love in the forest... BROTHER WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT???

so much lore to the twisted anxiety saga, and so little motivation to map and write it all out 😔

[stxrslut]

I wanna know how doctor Jj would react if you came in to hospital with bad period pain or something

wrote this as r and jj are already dating (reader has a history of extremely severe period pain)

disclaimer : I don’t have much medical knowledge, so I’ve basically just made this up. don’t use this as real medical advice !!

you’re curled in on yourself at the top of the er bed. the curtains are closed for privacy while you wait for your boyfriend, who you’d specifically requested to treat you.

your back is hurting and you feel like you need to hurl and scream and pass out all at the same time, you’re also really hungry and your legs ache, and so does your head. it’s no secret that your periods totally suck.

jj pulls the curtain open, already halfway through greeting you when he actually clocks that it’s you who’s there. his eyebrows furrow in concern as he closes the curtain and walks over to you, lifting your gaze to him. “babe what’s happening? thought you were goin’ out with kie today?”

you sniffle, wiping your cheek off “couldn’t.. my cramps got real bad again… jus’ didn’t know what to do n’ I couldn’t find any pain meds.. it hurts jayj.”

he tsks, kissing you on the forehead and placing one hand on your stomach. “s’it like last time? same typa’ stuff?” he questions carefully, dipping his head down a tiny bit to listen.

“yeah,” you nod “got a really heavy flow too.” he listens to this, picking up your chart that the nurse had put there after your initial assessment.

“can you lie back for me?” he asks, already moving one hand to your shoulder to help you. you just look at him unsurely, “last time I laid back I felt really queasy…”

he chuckles, “there’s a basin right here for that reason. I need you to lie back if you want me to help you.” you huff but comply anyway, whining when the pain amplifies.

“you’re good,” he soothes, beginning to feel around your abdomen for anything abnormal, when he’s confirmed that there isn’t he lets you sit back up. “I’m just gonna take your vitals— but I don’t think there’s anything going on that we can find right now… we’ll get you some of the good meds though.”

you nod, looking up at him like he’s a true hero as he keeps talking, “might wanna think about getting you a test for endometriosis but— that’s for another day, you’re in too much pain at the moment. arm up please.”

you lift your arm for him to wrap the equipment around and then hold onto his own hand, scrunching your face up at the strange sensation. he smiles, looking at the screen and nodding in approval when he sees your vitals are all okay.

he unhooks you and kisses your forehead before going off to get you a prescription for some pain meds.

when he returns he hands you the small piece of paper, “if you just go to the counter at the pharmacists across the road they’ll have it ready for you, take it home and have it with food okay? I’ve cleaned up enough puke today.”

you giggle at his little poke “Bailey has you on scut again?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“yes… but it’s totally not my fault this time!”

[k-hotchoisan]

I'm not sure if you're still accepting for your 500 follower celebration (congrats btw!!!) But if you are.. I wanna know your stance on #10 🤭

10. Shower sex with Mingi or Kitchen sex with Hongjoong?

Another anon wanted kitchen sex with Hongjoong so okay girlie I’m delivering 🫡🫡

Ok I did have a little trouble coming up with this but for some reason i GUESS IT WORKED OUT 🥵 HOPE U ENJOY

Where Hongjoong makes full use of the kitchen counter when he makes an interesting discovery

Warnings: smut, kitchen sex, masturbation with use of environment(?), cream pie, unprotected sex, slight edging

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @hoe4wooyoung @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

K’s 500 this or that: masterlist!

Hongjoong is hooked onto always making you edge until you would burst at the seams. He adores seeing you build up all the pleasure only to have it rip it from you and flood you all at once. He loves seeing you all overstimulated as he attempts to fuck you on every furniture that existed in your shared apartment.

And today’s victim? The kitchen counter.

It all started when he spotted you bending over at the corner of the kitchen counter, trying to grab something off the surface, and when he walks past you, his hands don’t miss a large handful of your ass, and you jolt in surprise, your clothed pussy brushing against the corner, and you let out an unexpected whine. That’s when Hongjoong halts in his tracks, and his eyes trail down to the way your panties begin to pool a small wet patch, which he could have definitely missed if he hadn’t kept his eyes peeled.

You turn around and pout at him from annoyance, before deciding to ignore him. Hongjoong lips pull into a more devious smile as an idea pops into his head. You feel his weight press onto you from behind, and you gasp when you feel his erection pressing against your ass, essentially trapping you at the corner of the counter, as he pushes the item you were reaching for further from your reach.

“Joong!” You whine. You try to move back, but Hongjoong has you trapped in that position. His voice vibrates in your ear as he laughs, as his hand snakes onto your ass once again, giving it a firm knead, and you feel your knees go weak.

He lifts your ass and nudges you forward, as the corner brushes against your clit again, the sensation beginning to bubble in your core. You bite your lip, as he shifts his hips to make you gyrate yours against the corner. His arm snakes around your chest, keeping your body straightened, as your clothed pussy continues to caress the marble. Fuck. It actually feels embarrassingly good for some fucking reason.

“Feels good, doesn’t it babe?” Hongjoong chuckles, making sure you don’t slow down. His cock is taut against his boxers, and he groans whenever your hips push back against his, ass brushing against his cock.

Your breathing grows heavy as moans continue to pour out of you. Your panties are completely soaked.

“Dirty girl, getting off from rubbing the kitchen counter like that”, Hongjoong whispers right into your ear. “Guess that height was perfect just for you.”

Indeed it was for some fuck ass reason. Your cunt throbbed with every brush, and you desperately wanted to just yank your panties off and do it with your bare cunt, but Hongjoong doesn’t relent. He’s determined to make you stain your panties with your cum just from getting off the counter.

“Joong-! I think I’m gonna-“ you twitch, the wet piece of undergarment so drenched that it clings onto your cunt on top of making it easier to reach your orgasm.

“Go ahead baby. Let it go. I like it when you’re all over the furniture”, he says as he kisses the shell of your ear. When both of Hongjoong’s hands snake under your thin excuse of a shirt, tugging against both of your nipples, amplifying the pleasure that was starting to flood your senses. Your core tightens as you begin desperately rutting against the curved side, your moans becoming pathetic whimpers, crying out Hongjoong’s name as you let go, your cunt pulsing uselessly, your slick now all over the small area of the furniture. Your thighs tremble as you try to catch your breath, barely registering when Hongjoong tugs your panties down to your ankles, and your shirt up past your chest.

You squeal when your nipples press against the cold marble counter top, but truthfully, that was the last thing that would be going through your mind right now, especially when your cunt is smearing even more slick and now, cream all over the corner of the counter top when Hongjoong inches himself into you, fitting into your velvet walls to the hilt as he sighs from the heat of your tight little wet cunt.

“That’s a good girl”, he relaxes, before he positions his hands on your hips and begins fucking you from behind. Your eyes are rolled back, the overstimulation turning up another ten levels when your bare and soaked clit rubs against the corner, accompanied by the consistent thrusts Hongjoong is pounding into your cervix.

“Oh god, Hongjoong. Feels so fucking good”, you say in between pants, feeling the knot tighten once more. The double pleasure was driving you completely off the edge. All the grounding you attempted to do completely shuts off, only Hongjoong’s fat dick fucking you onto the counter top as you attempt to leverage yourself by holding the edges of the counter.

“Tell me, baby. How do you feel jerking off against the counter?” He asks, his thrusts shallow yet enough to force your clit to rub pathetically against the marble surface.

“Amazing. So dirty but it feels so amazing”, you sigh, completely surrendering to pleasure. You feel it build and you want to release so fucking bad. But then, Hongjoong slows down his thrusts, leaving you to whine and whimper from the orgasm being pulled away from you, and you decide to forgo any ounce of shame you have, fucking against his cock while rubbing yourself off onto the counter. You’re so desperate that you’re simply just rutting now, craving for the pleasure to build up once more.

Hongjoong observes you rut with half-lidded and lust-filled eyes, not even missing the way more cream leaks out of your cunt and goes onto the marble counter.

“You’re so cute when you’re a desperate little girl like that”, he teases as he lands a tight fucking slap to your ass, making you jolt and cream even more.

He fucks his hand, enjoying the sight before him before he decides to slip his cock right back into your wet cunt, soaking in the way you gasp, and the way you’re crying and whining when he doesn’t give you time to adjust before fucking you stupid, the wet and obscene sounds completely taking center stage apart from his grunts and your moans.

“Gonna cum, Joong. Gonna cum again. Feels good”, you barely manage, the pleasure sending white spots into your eyelids as you let him ruin your pussy as he pleases.

“Let go for me baby. I know one isn’t enough”, he coos, fingers around your neck. Your eyes roll back, your mouth hangs open from the euphoric sensation, your body only moving as Hongjoong ruts into you as he pulls another orgasm from you, and his cock twitches once, then twice before he empties his warm cum right into your sopping hole. You let yourself fall forward as he slowly releases you, and pulls out, watching the way your cunt squeezes the air as the mix of cum and cream leaks from your hole and pools onto the counter beneath you.

Hongjoong pulls his boxers up before he retrieves your panties from the floor. He rubs your lower back as you come down from your high. And then you gingerly remove yourself from the now warm marble surface, and when you do, the first thing you do is slap his chest. Hongjoong glares at you with his eyes widened, with confusion written all over his face.

“You little shit. I wanted to cook my ramen!”

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.

a/n: this is the quickest piece of writing i’ve ever done and it’s because it was meant to be a joke because i just think this audio is mad funny...but it’s not too bad. i didn’t even think i’d upload anything today but this happened so enjoy i guess:))

cw: oral (m receiving), ony is just overstimulated, ony calls reader ‘baby’, n word usage.

wc: 922 + i only reread this once

‘don’t you know i will make you nut until you fucking cry? d’you hear me? you’ll be nuttin’ and cryin’ at the same damn time.’

watching a lot of tiktok meant that you often annoyed ony with random videos in his messages, and phrases you found funny. although he told you to stop, you knew he loved it really. so you didn’t stop. something you found particularly hilarious was the audio of that one guy saying ‘don’t you know i will make you nut until you fucking cry. d’you hear me? you’ll be nuttin’ and cryin’ at the same damn time’. so that phrase had graced ony’s ears multiple times. a day. he didn’t use tiktok as much as you—the only reason he even had it was so you could send him videos you liked. so the first time he had heard it, his ears had perked up in curiosity; he didn’t know you were referencing something else, so he just thought you were threatening him with some lifechanging head. but you clarified, and he slumped into the couch as he played 2k.

seeing that reaction, you decided to just give the man what he wanted, and now he had nutted three times; the first in your mouth, the remnants of the second were on your chin and his thighs, and the third was on your chest. your actions had been true of your words—albeit playful, and not necessarily your own, they hadn’t been shy of your true intentions. the headset, that had once been atop ony’s head, had been taken off, and sat next to him. it had been the only audience member observing the sloppily lewd noises coming from the place your mouth and his dick met. all assisted by the hands that paid great attention to the places your mouth couldn’t reach. his midsection was covered in a heedless mixture of his nut, your spit, and his sweat. his beautiful brown skin shining like honey covered chocolate, melting under immense heat. and there’s nothing you wanted more than to taste the sweetness on your tongue; transferring onto you to settle on your tastebuds.

pearly whites held his white tank top as his eyes were painfully closed. his attempt to look down at you was delayed by eyelashes sticking together, salty murmurs of overstimulation acting as an adhesive to keep them united. keeping his eyes shut was the only thing he could control; his hips moved on their own, following the wetness between your plump lips to get another release. it was relief ony wasn’t sure he wanted, he didn’t think he could handle it. and his neck made sure to warn him of that—whipping his head from side to side as he searched for an avenue of relief that wouldn’t leave him shooting blanks.

if the sounds in the room hadn’t been overshadowed by amplified suction noises, you would’ve heard the quiet cracking noises produced as a result of how hard he was curling his toes. you had long snatched that nigga’s soul, and now you were just cleaning up the crumbs, making sure his chest would now hold a you shaped hole.

maybe that hole would be reminiscent of the one at the back of your mouth, wrapping itself around his tip as you swallowed around him.

“y/n, b-baby, n-no more” , his shaky hand lifted to softly push your forehead back. but his hips couldn’t help fucking your mouth more, pushing himself further inside you, and whining every time you gagged. the volume of ony’s whimpers was the highest it had ever been—his vocal cords could not find it in themselves to move in a way low enough to duplicate his usual growls, and groans. so they remained stagnant at high-pitched whimpers and whines, loud cries filling the living space.

ultimately, you kept to your promise, and ony’s eyes brimmed with salty streams of overstimulation, before the streams merged into a waterfall that fell down his soft cheeks.

“y-y/n, nnghh—ffffuckk”, his voice felt like it was going hoarse with how hard he was pushing his voice to form intelligible words and sounds. and his chest heaved deeply as he tried to stabilise himself again. the first step of said process being a firm palm pushing you back, causing you to fall back onto the rug. giggling at the mess you had made of the man you loved. his fourth, and final, nut came out in small specks. and you saw the visceral juxtaposition of delightful agony painted all over face; his lips had parted but all they could muster was heavy breaths. this man was fucking drooling onto the couch cushions, and you just giggled again.

“you asked for it”, you chortled, getting up to make your way to the bathroom to get some warm towels to clean you both up.

as delicate as your hands were, ony still winced at your gestures of kindness. sorry hands still felt tainted by lust as you cleaned off the fruits of your slobbery labour. you wanted your own relief, but you knew ony wasn’t in the headspace to give it to you so you just continued wiping him down. you could’ve sworn the overstimulation had knocked him out, but then you heard faint grumbles through unstable, and snotty sniffles,

“stay off that fucking app.”

© Rights owned by nanaminsmoon. Do not repost without permission.

[cuckette]

CAROL OF THE BALLS !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader x dante (dmc)

tags. i made them brothers, cucking, threesome, age gap, size kink, ass play, leon eats his cum so incest, cum eating, creampie, p in v

note. SORRY FOR BEING LATE AGAIN i have been tweaking :3 but um whatever! ignore typos or i’ll detonate :3 feedback n rbs much appreciated !!! ooc bc dante is literally a well-meaning old man but i have to make him sleazy for porn without plot purposes sorry!! i also cut the smut short bc. bc i wanted to get this out so sorry if it’s jolty 😭

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

Your love for Leon, much to his dismay, is no match for your pursuit of cock. His poor girl, you suffer from this awful disease at such a young age, the kind that tears a family apart - wandering hands they call it. In Leon’s terms, it would be something more akin to cock-driven. That’s your motivation, and if you see one you like, you’re gonna get it. Fuck, you’d do rocket science on the spot for a nice, fat cock. Unfortunately, it just so happens to be his older brother that you’ve set your eye on. And Leon’s older brother is the most shameless asshole since, like, god, Mark Antony? That guy was obnoxious, right? Fucking his best friend’s wife and all.

Dante is that obnoxious but amplified tenfold, if you can even imagine that. He’s got a big mouth to match his stature, and, you guessed it, he’s got one hell of a dick stuffed into those tacky leather pants. And you’re taking a very obvious gander at what sort of goodies he’s got tucked away. You’re playing footsie with him under the table for fuck’s sake. Leon can tell by the way you’re slouched too far back in your seat, but it’s mainly ‘cause he dropped his fork and when he lifted the table cloth, he found your foot rubbing along Dante’s inner thigh while his fingers toyed with the frilly cuff of your sock. Bringing you home for Christmas was a mistake. You’re too precious to give up and too hard to reign in. He should just store you away in a jar of some sort, poke a few holes in the lid so you can breathe, a bird cage perhaps, or maybe a crate?

Knowing you, you’d manage to get your paws on Dante either way. A cage would be no problem, just slip it right on in through the gaps! A makeshift gloryhole if you will. Honestly, he’d prefer you to pick Vergil over Dante, at least the guy has it all together, at least he’s not a washed up loser who can’t pay his bills, at least he’s not Dante. You’d think as the younger sibling you’d turn out better, right? It’s like baking a cake, the first time it’s shit, and the second time it’s better. Not soft in the centre, not burnt to a crisp on the sides - just don’t work like that around here. Instead, Leon’s parents had the stronger, taller, hotter, bigger one first, then little Leon to top it all off. Little ‘cause he’s 5’10 with insoles only.

Oh yeah, you can ask around town. Leon Kennedy? That guy’s decent, nice face, nice smile, nice guy. Dante? One that walks around like his dick is weighing him down, fuckin’ pornstar face, can tell if a girl likes him when she’s got her ankles behind her head – yeah, I know him, he broke my parents marriage up, and he fucked my sister, and my auntie, yeah, the one that came over for the holidays. I don’t really mind ‘cause he gave it to me after too! Oh, no way, I couldn’t do that with Leon, he’s more of the settle down type, don’t you think?

No one has actually said that and yes, he is more of the settle down type, but Leon has had his fair share of flings, and contrary to popular belief - missionary is not the only position he knows. He knows how to put a girl on her knees, no stranger to it. Maybe, just maybe, his dick is the problem. It’s not small, not quite big, it’s adequate, or perhaps it’s inadequate and that’s why you’re offering to wash the dishes alongside Dante. Leon hasn’t seen Dante do a household chore since 1976, that’s when Leon was in the womb if you didn’t know. Meaning he hasn’t ever seen Dante do a single chore, not even pick up his own underwear the fucking slob. And don't even get him started on you. The girl who struggles to get the vacuum working when Leon’s not around, then you do it half heartedly for five minutes before complaining about your back aching.

He’s pacing outside the kitchen like a guard on duty, listening in on your conversation with Dante, it’s absolutely thrilling. Leon couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time, he just loves to hear his girlfriend flirt her way into his brother’s pants.

Oh, your hands are so big, Dante! Wow, they’re so much bigger than mine. My goodness, Dante, you could pick me up, like, sooooo easy! I wonder what else is big! Has your hair always been that colour? No, that’s so not true, Dante, doesn’t make you look old at all! It suits you, don’t look a day over twenty. Duh, of course I’m joking, I like ‘em old anyway. Do you babe? You should go ahead and suck his old man cock, sure Dante wouldn’t mind, and it’s not like Leon has any say. You’re young and fickle - this is what he deserves for dating a girl your age. What more do you know than dick?

“It’s okay, he won’t wake up,” Your voice is muffled in his ears, distant despite you being less than an inch away from him. He shifts, feels around for your warmth, clasps an arm that’s way too jacked.

Leon’s brother is remarkable really, he turns over after a struggle with the bedside lamp, sees Dante’s teeth gleaming, your little hands splayed flat across his chest. He’d go at him, make a feast of it, he wishes for the tearing of Dante’s throat to be biblical. God, Kane and Abel have nothing on them. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His digs his nails into hardened muscle.

“Please, baby,” You beg him, beg is an exaggeration, from you it’s a command. Like, not Oh, please, Leon! May I suck and fuck your brother while you lay beside us? More of a Please, shut your mouth and let me have this, Leon. I haven’t had good dick ever since I started dating you.

He falters, “No, babe,” Leon shakes his head, lip curling upwards in both disgust and wonderment at the boldness of your request. “No, are you crazy?”

“C’mon, Leon,” Dante pouts, and it’s disturbing to see a grown man with no upper lip do that. “She just wants to have a little fun.”

“Don’t— don’t get involved, this is between me and her.” His attempt at assertion is only met with amusement.

“Leon, please?” You bat your lashes. Beat. His heart hammers in his chest. Then Leon closes his eyes like a good boy, he’s always been great at taking orders. Whatever. Fuck his brother to your heart’s content.

“He not treatin’ you right, sweet thing?” Dante murmurs into your neck, his thick fingers parting your slippery folds, rubbing deft circles on your twitching clit.

He grits his teeth so hard they squeak. Leon treats you perfectly well. Surely, saying otherwise—

“No, Dante,” You pout up at his brother, a small hand curled around his wrist as he pushes his fingers knuckle-deep into your slick cunt.

Stupid bitch. Leon has never been inclined to call a woman a bitch, total lie, but Claire told him it’s not appropriate, and Claire is usually right about most things. Not right now though, girls are fucking brutal.

“No?” Dante coos, “My little brother can’t please his girl? Can’t get this little cunt soaked?” There’s a wet smack, and you gasp.

“Don’t do that.” Leon can’t help himself, it’s like he insists on making a fool of himself. “She doesn’t like that.”

“Do it again.” You plead, “Dante, please, feels so good.” The crooked smile Dante gives him is humiliation at its finest.

He draws his hand back, spanks your cunt, the fleshy part of his palm mashing against your clit. “You don’t even know what your girl likes.”

“I do.” Leon’s chest aches, his dick aches even more, feels like it’s about to over-inflate and pop.

“Bet you like it rough, don’t you, babe?” Dante asks, presses his nose into your neck, licks a stripe up your jugular.

“She does not.”

“Yes.” You nod crazy like a dashboard bobblehead.

Dante raises his brows when he glances sideways at Leon, “He’s not givin’ it to you is he? You want him all up in your guts, baby, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, god, please,” You whine, clit thrumming beneath Dante’s fingertips. “Want it here.” You bring Dante’s hand to rest on your abdomen, “wanna feel you here, please.”

“Dirty little bitch,” Dante coaxes an orgasm out of you with his fingers alone.

“Don’t speak to her like that.”

“I’ll speak to her how I want,” He retorts, “She likes it, ‘s why you’re gettin’ me all wet, isn’t it, baby?”

“Mhm,” Your eyes follow his every move, and Leon has never seen you so enthralled during sex. He’s used to you laying on your back like a dead girl, legs over his shoulders, letting out the occasional grunt of discomfort.

His head dips low, the sheets are long forgotten, crumpled at the foot of the bed. Dante’s big hands spread your cheeks apart, licks into your cunt, flicks his tongue over your clit— and you moan like you never have before. Back bowing off the bed, covering your mouth with a balled-up fist, chest heaving.

“That good, baby?” Dante hums, his teeth scrape over your clit when he pulls back the hood, and you squirm.

“So good, so good— ‘s so fuckin’ good, god!”

Alright, can’t be that good, now you’re just putting it on to piss Leon off. You’ve never sucked his dick well enough for him to moaning like that. Then again, his dick doesn’t have a million nerve endings. The sounds Dante is making are downright lewd, unnecessary even, you’re dripping all over his face, his chin wet and shiny with your pussy— then he makes the jump. A move that’s bold even for a dude as outrageous as Dante, his pink tongue follows the natural trail from pussy to asshole. Licks the puckered rim till you relax, and there’s no resistance from you whatsoever. You’re just letting this grimy bastard eat your fucking ass? Even Leon hasn’t gotten that far, not that he’s asked, not that he’s ever thought about it - something about the second hole just feels wrong.

Dante spits on it, manages to get his thumb in nicely, then he sits up, leaves you empty. “Just a little girl takin’ big things, aren’t you? How am I s’posed to fit in this tight cunt without breaking it?” He tilts his head to the side, eyes droopy like he’s drunk on pussy juice alone. Probably is. Shit is potent. Especially when you’ve been nose-deep.

His brother only smiles, gives a pointed look to Leon’s dick straining against the fabric of his boxers, the sticky wet patch. “That’s why she wants cock so bad, huh?” Leon is not small. His dick is just right, it’s fine, it’s sufficient. There’s nothing wrong with it, but he cups a hand over his bulge to hide it from Dante.

Dante shucks off his pants, and yeah, Leon really is the little brother in every sense. He might as well just kill himself at this point, there is no winning against a dick that fat. Shit’s so big it’s hanging downwards, so heavy it can’t even hold itself up. Some big fucking balls to level it out. Jesus, is he seriously admiring his brother’s dick right now? Listen, it’s just got some real weight to it, and Leon has to say he’s impressed. Only seen this breed of horsecock in porn.

“Gosh, Dante,” You’re lovestruck, cockstruck, a trembling hand reaches forward to cup his heavy balls, then wrap it around the base, and it’s honestly so big your thumb and middle finger struggle to meet.

“Don’t throw her around like that, oh my god.” Leon frowns, catches your head from knocking against the headboard when Dante manhandles you onto your front. “Just be careful.” If you told Leon he’d be watching his brother fuck his little girlfriend from behind with a thumb in her ass, he’d say, yeah, sounds about right. Some shit that would happen to a guy like me.

“She can take it.” Dante says, then he’s sheathed inside with a single glide of his cock, no resistance whatsoever. You’re that wet. Dripping down your thighs. God, he’s never seen you get so worked up. “Can’t you, babe?”

“Yes, please, just give it to me please, Dante,” Now that’s begging, not that shit you were doing earlier. “Wan’ it so bad, please, might die, Dante.”

“Alright, okay, baby, only ‘cause you asked so nicely.” He snickers, wraps his arm around your front and then fucks into you so hard the bed rocks. Headboard hits the wall. Stuff you see in movies. God, his poor girl, you’ll be ruined once Dante’s done with you.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Dante,” You mewl an endless string of expletives, arch so your hips push back onto his fat cock, and your eyes roll back into your head, and there’s spit trickling down your chin— Holy fucking shit. It’s like watching a porno play out. Hell, it might very well be a porno. C’mon, where’s the camera, is this Dante’s new side gig? Is this keeping his lights on, his fridge full, his water running? Wouldn’t put it past him.

Once he creams your hole, Dante’s quick to spread you apart with his big hands, you’re still gaping. “Go on, Leon.” He says very simply, smiles the way he always does when he suggests something outlandish. “Clean her up.”

Leon’s never eaten pussy from the back, it’s impolite. Crude. That’s the general consensus, right? And Leon’s a feminist, he’ll eat a pussy that sits itself on his face, he’ll snuggle up between a thick pair of thighs - but from the back, oh, it’s just obscene. Still does it though. Eats his brother's thick cum from your hole, sucks on your swollen clit, laps till there’s nothing left that’s dirtier than his own tongue. Then he goes to bed with a hard dick and the taste of his brother’s cum in the back of his throat. He’ll sleep it off.

[milla984]

A Million Reasons

Summary: after a phone call from Penelope, Reader teases Spencer about a potential love interest and things don’t go exactly as planned.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff with a little angst

TW/CW: a little bit of angst, brief mentions of food, self-doubt, mentions of anxiety, kissing

Word Count: 1.2k

Thank you @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read this!

The following work is my entry for @andiebeaword's 3,000 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge (prompt n. 12) and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

Spencer scooped out of the paper cup what was left of his ice cream before he finished recounting the events leading to the arrest of the unsub the entire BAU team had been successfully tracking down in Seattle during the past few days. 

“He’ll be charged with ten counts of murder, one attempted murder, and unlawful possession of multiple weapons. He’s facing ten life sentences without parole.”

“Way to go, Justice League!” you cheered, enthusiastic. 

He tucked his hair behind his ear with a cute chuckle. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow so you caught a glimpse of his wristwatch reflecting the light of a lamp post standing along the edge of the walking path; from the bench you were both sitting on you could see the illuminated dome of the US Capitol rising up against the dark mid-summer sky. 

Despite being within walking distance of a major street in the southwest quadrant of Washington, the park was quiet and uncrowded and the nearby gelato shop was one of Spencer’s favorites. 

You took the last sip of your drink, acting very casual. “And that’s all that happened?” 

He shrugged, unsure about which crucial information could have been missing from his story since he was under strict instructions not to fill you in on the most gruesome details of the cases he’d worked.

“Uhm, graphic descriptions of tortures and mutilations are not—”

“I’m talking about a certain homicide detective… the one you gave your number to…?” you explained and his jaw dropped instantly.

“What?!”

You nudged at him with your elbow. “Garcia called me from the Original Starbucks in Pike Place. I couldn’t tell if the hype was about your new admirer or being there.”

“I don't understand how this is such a big deal!” he blurted out in a high-pitched voice. “She showed an interest in what we do so I gave her my card.”

No profiling skills were required to detect his firm intention to avoid discussing the matter, yet the words came out of your mouth like a river in spate. 

“Any chance it wasn’t only a professional interest?”

The way Spencer looked at you, disappointed and hurt, hit you worse than a punch in the liver. 

“What’s with you, guys?! Are– are you all so invested in my personal life because you’re convinced I’m chronically unable to have one without your help?” he snapped, something you’d never seen him do. 

“I’m s—” you tried to reply, even though he was still too angry to let you apologize and cut you off again.

“Or maybe it’s just that I’m no Derek Morgan, so the idea of someone noticing I exist is pathetic or funny to you?”

“Seriously?! An IQ of 187 and this is the best inference you can come up with?” you snorted, upset by the subtle insult he’d thrown at you - even if you had to admit you deserved it.

His brows furrowed. “Then why did you bring this up?” 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry. I truly am,” you admitted, “but I would never ever think that people hitting on you is pathetic, give me some credit!”

He remained silent for a while, quite aware that Penelope’s inability to keep her mouth shut generated from genuine excitement about what she perceived as good news; sharing such personal information with you meant you had been put to the test over and over and, in the end, deemed worthy of her trust. 

The peaceful atmosphere around you served as an amplifier for the sound of splashing water and Spencer indicated the fountain at the center of the large, round basin in front of you with a jerk of his head. 

“I read a book about the architectural history of D.C. on the way back. This piece was created for the 1876 Centennial International Exhibition in Philadelphia, the US Congress acquired it in 1877 and placed it at the base of Capitol Hill. It was dismantled in 1926, then it remained in storage until 1932 when they moved it here.”

The pedestal held three twin iron-casted sea nymphs wearing wet tunics, with their arms raised above their heads to support a shallow vasque; on top was a group of kneeling child tritons, and the base was decorated with turtle-like aquatic creatures.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled.

The fact he’d for sure started and finished said book in less than fifteen minutes was among the 999.999 entries in your list of reasons to crush over SSA Reid.  And so were his three PhDs, his crooked ties, his passion for Star Wars, chess and Halloween.

“I don’t talk much about my private life. Especially outside of work,” he confessed after a pause. “A lot of times I have a hard time discussing personal issues—”

“Spencer… you know you don’t owe me an explanation, right?” you rushed to clarify.

He nodded and you did the same in response, to confirm you had no intention of pressuring him into opening up if he felt uncomfortable but were also ready to listen to anything he had to say; even in dim light, you could see the sadness veiling his beautiful hazel eyes.   

“I’m sorry I overreacted. Garcia was being Garcia, with her ‘look at the world through rose-colored glasses’ scenarios. Except, in this case giving my card to a homicide detective to discuss behavioral sciences was just what it sounds like. I understand where she’s coming from, I never told her…”

Your whole body tensed up, courtesy of a rush of anxiety triggered by the possibility of him being already involved with someone he had never mentioned, not even to his closest friends; you wondered if he could hear the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Luckily for you, Spencer didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m trying to come to terms with something I’ve been feeling, for weeks now. And I’m worried, because of what happened in the past and I can’t let go of…” his voice broke a little, so he swallowed. “Deep down I’m afraid I'm not the type of person who gets to live out happily ever after.” 

Refraining from hugging him on the spot and holding him close to your heart had gotten increasingly difficult lately, so you settled for a peck on his temple in a clumsy attempt at a comforting gesture.

Spencer jolted, befuddled, and for a moment you feared for the worst; you certainly didn’t expect him to lean forward to cup your face in his hands - big hands.  With slender, elegant fingers he tenderly brushed over your cheeks.

You both held your breath, waiting for the distance between you to vanish until your foreheads touched and the tips of your noses rubbed together. 

“... are we really doing this?!” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

You smiled. “Don’t make me wait for another six months.”

Spencer squinted, an indication he was browsing countless data and events stored in his memory; when he eventually pinpointed the exact moment you fell for him he squeaked in surprise. 

“Christm—”

You pressed your palm on the nape of his neck, guiding his lips over yours for the kiss you both had been longing for. 

Reason number 1.000.000: Dr. Reid had a crush on you, too.

@thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

[muffinsin]

I have a request, with absolutely no rush! Say the sisters get ahold of Donna's pollen and use it on the staff. Most staff have their fear amplified which is fun, except one. How do you think the Dimitrescu Sisters would each react to using it on a maid that ends up admitting she likes them?

Now, this one’s very interesting!👀 Let’s get right to it!

Masterlists

Bela

She has a relationship based on mutual respect with most of the staff members

She is not overly hostile towards them. In return, the same goes for the staff’s behaviour towards her

Tasks are completed more or less eagerly, and throughout, away from the constant fear of dying at every little opportunity

There is no complaint when working for her, and in return, she leaves those doing good work be

Those who do not respect her, learn to fear her

Either way any emotion, really, is rare to come by between the staff members and the Dimitrescu heiress

Normally, this doesn’t require any proof

However, Bela is rather fond of control. And proof. She wants to know all that is going on. All feelings, and all possible conspiracies

As such, she has talked to Donna regarding just a small yearly sample of a pollen stemming from a particularly powerful flower

With her wish granted, this pollen is used, a little bit each month, to check in whether the staff is up to something

Feelings and thoughts are revealed

Often, fear comes to the surface and Bela must deal with hysterical, crying, screaming and begging staff members

She never assures them she won’t harm them, but never lays a finger on them, either. Not without reason. She knows, maids will become somewhat scarce to come by if they keep dying within months of working at the castle. Something she scolds her younger sisters for in particular

Yes, indeed, fear is something she is well versed in

Sometimes, at rare times, instead of fear, respect is displayed

Those are quick to earn Bela’s favour and are granted somewhat immunity from her sisters. Alas, respect and trust is impossibly faked with the pollen clouding a person’s mind

When you are summoned, she is visibly curious. There is no point hiding her curiosity, after all

She doesn’t know a lot about you

You’re tense, knowing what is about to happen. That true feelings and thoughts are about to be spilled

She wonders, will the pollen betray you and portrait hidden hatred?

Bela smirks as the pollen is blown in your face, your eyes immediately a little brighter, your posture slacking, your fingers twitching with the need for more

Her smirk falters however, when one appears on your face

“Lady Bela…”, you slur out, and she raises an eyebrow as you step towards her

Do you really believe you could take her on in a fight? Pathetic!

She crosses her arms when you move forwards, her eyebrow raised challengingly

However, you don’t assault her

Instead, Bela finds herself blushing a deep crimson all the way to the tips of her ears when you cup her cheek and set your other hand to her waist

She understands in an instant. You mean no attack. No violent one, anyway

Her flies buzz anxiously as you lean in, your eyes heavy and gaze piercing, your lips pursed slightly

Just like that, she feels your warm breath against her plump lips

“You’re so beautiful…”, you whisper

She feels a shiver run up her spine

In an instant, a hundred thoughts run through her head

Why do you like her? It certainly isn’t the first time she has caught someone’s eye, yet for someone to be this bold, even under the pollen’s influences?

What about her mother? Alcina would hardly approve of such a thing. Bela knows not to get entangled with the staff. With mortals

She knows and remembers Mother’s chiding words, spoken to her after her first heartbreak

Is she no better than her sisters? Getting fancy with the staff?

Oh, but when your lips surprise her by boldly pushing against hers, all these thoughts suddenly seem to fall away

Nothing but a gasp and a small whimper is pulled from her when you pull back again after a few seconds, the need to inhale air so soon again far too great for a little mortal

She gasps in surprise when she feels her hip being squeezed, as though affectionately

“I-I’ve alwaay’s wanted to do th’at”, you slur out, a lazy smile on your lips

Curse the wicked blush your words inflict on her

Cassandra

She has many titles given to her by the staff. Monster. Beauty. A bad omen. An omen of death. The devil. The torturer

She loves it

After all, what better feeling is there, than to be feared?

Oh, and she wants just that

Cassandra doesn’t care for admiration. For glory. For love among the maids

She doesn’t seek such things from lowlifes, as she often likes to refer to the staff members as

No, she wants to be feared

She crackles with delight at the raw fear she tastes in their blood, the fast beating hearts and hushes of conversations coming to an end when she nears them

Yes, she is respected. Because she is feared

And she is quick to demonstrate why she should be feared. Ah, she is eager for it, almost

Cassandra is very aware of how a staff member sees her

Most are doing a horrible job hiding it, anyway

However, there’s you, too. You, who never quite lets on what you feel towards her

Respect? Certainly. You’ve not once sneered at her. Doing as much would prove to be a death sentence anyway

Yet, you haven’t once done anything at all regarding her. No smile. No sneer. No nothing

She notices your glances her way, and yet, you never quite look away as fast as others when she turns to you

One second. Almost precisely so, until you turn away

Just enough to confirm: you have been looking at her

Your feelings are a mystery to her, and it draws her in

She yearns to understand you. To find out what feelings you harbour for her

As such, she visits Donna regarding some of her flowers. Specifically, their pollen

She wants to find out your true thoughts and emotions, in any way possible

As such, it takes only a little bit of bargaining and persuasion to get what she’s looked for; pollen, just a handful, enough to reveal what you feel

She smirks when she corners you the next day already, her gloved first clenched with the pollen hidden inside

You haven’t even got time to ask what is going on before powdery yellow pollen is blown in your face, obscuring your vision for a mere moment before it returns back to normal

Cassandra waits in anticipation. Her eyes glisten, her fingers twitch and clench around the handle of her sickle every other second

She’s visibly excited

Will you cower before her? Fight her? Admire her?

Your eyes, however, hold determination. What for, she wonders?

You don’t reek of fear like the others, she notices

Instead, Cassandra gasps when you boldly reach out and grasp the sickle, tugging hard enough to pull her close even when the blade pierces your skin

The scent lingering in the air has her groan, her dark pupils widening slightly, so only a thin line of gold is visible in her eyes

You bite your lip at the sight

As you cautiously raise your hand to put it on her waist, she watches with rapt attention

This is- curious

You seem to be studying her, as much as she studies you

Then, she gasps in surprise when her shoulder is kissed, gently even

“I have been yearning for you, Cassandra”, you admit at last

She shivers at the words, her flies buzzing beyond her control

The lack of her proper title riles her up, yet she can’t bring herself to strike you down

She is still left confused, despite your confession

While indulging in a few maids here and there, all know that fancying this sister leads to pain, ultimately

Judged by the cut on your hand, you don’t seem to mind, though

She shivers when the hand is raised to her cheek, her nose brushing up against your palm when she turns her head enough to lick the smeared, red blood

Her head is turned to you, and she smirks as you lean up, standing on your tiptoes, just enough to brush your lips against her chin

Poor thing… if only she leant down

She allows herself to stare a little longer, her hip tugged to no avail, as you practically beg her to lean down

At last, she humors you

As your lips push against hers, she can’t help but moan. Her chest aches, her cheeks heat up

Somehow, knowing it’s genuine is nearly overwhelming her

You like her. You do. The pollen assures her of this

The thought makes her head spin

Daniela

The staff’s opinions on her are incredibly different

Some lust after her. They notice the beauty the youngest Dimitrescu possesses and can’t help but yearn for a taste

Sometimes, she indulges them

Often, she is seen flirting, laughing, smiling beautifully

Many have fallen victim to her charms already, and many more are to come

Others see through this

They call her a black widow, a siren, the reason so many are lured in and killed. No one ever makes it out unharmed

Yes, some hate this sister

Of course, it would be foolish to show it openly

And still, Daniela notices the hateful glances and hushed whispers thrown her way, only to silent down and disappear when she’d do as much as turn her head

She couldn’t ever kill all who felt this way, it seems

And lastly, there are those deadly afraid of her

Terrified to the point of hyperventilating when she’d get near

She is a Dimitrescu, and that means death to most of the staff members

Respect is not in the picture. Not truly, and Daniela knows this

She yearns to get the same kind of respect her sisters do, yet it never seems to work

Is she polite and nice like Bela, they merely fall in love or prove their leash needs tightening. They misbehave and fail to see her as a leader. As their boss

Is she brutal and ruthless like Cassandra, they all cower in fear

Yet, there still is no one showing proper respect

But- there must be, no?

She decides, she wants to find out, and a small trip to Donna has her find exactly what she needs: pollen, from a flower capable of spilling the true feelings and intentions of whoever is targeted by the sickly, light green pollen

Eagerly so, she buys half a bag full of the special pollen, enough to interrogate all the staff members

After the first three subjects, Daniela questions why she even wanted this in the first place

All she has received so far was taunting words, hateful speeches, confessions of lust, eager hands attempting to touch what they should not, tears and begging, shaking and screaming for help

She has been called a monster, a siren, a beauty, a beast, a monstrosity, a mistake

Not a single one stood out. She truly is considering killing them all. Mother could replace them for her, after all

Then, there’s you, however

Unlike the others, you don’t immediately jump into action when affected by the pollen

You stand still, a light smile on your face, your eyes meeting hers

It’s rare for her to have someone look into her eyes. Even less so with such adoration

Slowly, you begin to move towards her

She resists the urge to move back again, her eyes narrowing and focused on your hands

If your intention is to touch what is not yours to touch, you’re not the only one. Those before you have attempted it and lost their limbs

However, you aren’t acting the same way as them

Instead of her hips and chest, your hands raise to her cheeks

She freezes for a moment, your hands wonderfully warm against her even warmer, light pink cheeks

With a sharp intake of her breath, she at last notices the emotion in your eyes, unclouded due to the pollen

It is not hatred, or ignorance. Not fear, or unhappiness. It’s not raw lust and perversion. It’s love. Admiration. Respect

She nearly loses herself in your eyes

If you love her, you must be her soulmate, no?

She’s the one to lean in and allow a kiss, and you are the one to reciprocate

She feels your love, in the gentleness you hold her cheeks with, in the soft gaze set on her, in the dreamy sigh when she pulls away for a moment and feels your breath on her painted lips

She holds your hand, and the sensation makes her feel lightheaded. She loves it

Daniela’s flies buzz excitedly when her hand is squeezed, the loving smile on your lips only for her to enjoy

“You love me!”, she decides for you

She’s happy, thrilled even

A lover, just for her! A genuine one!

Still, she doesn’t want your first day together to be under the pollen’s influence

She wants to hear you admit your feelings towards her, not be forced to do so

As such, she presses a gentle kiss to your lips again, and with her flies buzzing excitedly, she swarms off and away

She has a date to plan!

[thatoneguydownthestreet]

Howdy! I was wondering what the twst guys would do if apocalypse mc came to twisted wonderland with a rifle and handgun? Like rook learning they can be used for hunting or lilias reaction to the weapons of war from their world

You don’t have to write this! I’ve just been brainrotting about this 😮‍💨

Anyway thanks for your time!💕💕

I really need to add a character limit to this.

I'm doing one from the first 5 dorms and if you want more characters I'll get to them once requested open again.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

Yuu pronouns are he/him

Characters: Ace (technicallyduece too ig), ruggie, jade, kalim, and rook

Warnings: Dueces slight suicidal ideation, ruggies lowkey nihilism, you kill a monster in Jades part, slight body horror in Kalims part, not proof read

________________________________

Ace:

Ace was pissed. Why? Because he was fucking stupid.

He was stupid. Duece was stupid. And that weird kids with the weird mask and the fucking fire monster was fucking stupid.

Because someone thought it would be a great idea to run away from their clean up duty (Grim (ace quietly chose to ignore that he had tried to do the same thing first)) by hiding in a chandelier was a good idea, and someone else thought hurling him into said chandelier with questionable at best magic was an even better idea.

So now ace trappola was running for his life in a crystal mine, with only the same people who got him into this situation in the first place here with him.

These feelings only seemed to be amplified after duece decided that the crystals were worth more than his life! Also it didn't exactly help that he had seen the magicless guy almost get impaled with one of the oversized pickaxes that...that thing was swinging around.

"My....m.y..Give me back..my. STONES"

The adrenaline rushed through aces body like a wave, it's only purpose being to make sure he survives dammit! He doesn't even care if he gets expelled anymore. His brother has told him enough stories about NRC to write a novel. Ace had come here with a picture already painted in his head and this was not it.

He made a sharp turn left. They had walked down this tunnel on their way in right?

He saw a little light poke out just around the next turn.

Yeah, they had come through this way.

Ace heard a small yelp and the sound of dirt being scattered and a small thud of someone hitting the ground.

He didn't look back. He just kept running.

He kept running until he came across the small cottage that they'd gone into earlier. Duece stumbled in right after him. The masked boy and the fire cat-weasle thing on his shoulders.

The guy was covered in dirt. He's probably the one that fell.

Ace was bent over, panting like he had just ran for his life, probably because he did, but he's pretty sure he heard duece half gently set the kid, whose name he still didn't really know, down before he joined ace in his desperate attempt to catch his breath.

Ace closed his eyes. What the hell is happening right now? Why was he here? Why did he have to go tease that weird magicless freak this morning and pick a fight with their freaky cat?

You know what? Fuck this. If he gets expelled, so be it. There are plenty of other magic schools, including ones closer to home. He'll be just fine.

Duece however, didn't seem to get the memo.

"It was right there...we have to go back!", duece had so much determination in his voice...

Ace felt his eye twitch. "Like hell we do!"

Duece snapped his head towards him, and the mystery bro was still sitting on the floor, now cradling grim like he was an actual cat.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, but that crystal ain't worth it"

"So...so you're just gonna take the expulsion lying down? Just like that!? What are you, some kind of coward!?", duces voice got progressively more angry, which ace thought was bullshit.

He thought he was being perfectly reasonable with his choices, thank you very much.

"Uhhh. Yeah! Sorry not sorry, I choose life!"

I mean sure, his brother is gonna look at him all disappointed and shit, but hey, at least he'd be alive to see it.

Ace looked back at Mr. Mask-Man, who was still quietly petting grim, acting like they weren't even there.

It kind of pissed him off a little.

"Hey", he looked up, Ace count see their eyes, but somehow he knew they weren't making eye contact "do you have any better ideas? Or are you just gonna sit there the while time and not do anything?"

Was he being unfair? Probably. This guy (he should really ask for his name) wasn't even supposed the be in night Raven college, not to mention here? And he probably didn't want to be here any more than he did.

Did he care about that though? No. Not right now anyway.

Ace expected him to just put his head back down and go back to petting his freaky weasel. He expected them to just shrink up on themselves while ace went back to yelling at duece.

He did expect the guys head to perk up the smallest bit, he didn't expect the sudden feeling of very intense eye contact either.

And he definitely didn't expect him the nod and stand up so fast ace almost stumbled back.

But you know what the absolute last thing he expected from this guy? Going back to the mines.

Going back to the mines and waiting with duece for grim and the masked guy to come hauling ass back up the hill with the ...inky monster in tow. Because that's what's going to happen. Apparently.

...fuck. This guy was some type of maniac wasn't he?

Ace just glared at the ground. There wasn't anything he could do about it now, but he was still gonna be pissed if he died with a possible psychopath currently running towards him, and this blue gumball son of a bitch standing next to him.

"Bring me....my...stooones!"

He took a deep breath, possibly one of his lasts.

But I mean hey, might as well go out with a bang right?

The next few minutes all seemed to happen in slow motion, and somehow ace could already see the moment when the reality of all this would all hit him. At 3 am or something like that. Probably.

...yeah. 3 am.

"Ace watch out!", a panicked, exhausted voice called out to him. Probably duece.

His head snapped over to where his dormmate was. What's happening?

The answer seemed pretty damn obvious, when a large shadow seemed to swallow him whole, a product of the monsters looming stature.

Ace froze. Seeing his life start to flash before his eyes. Memory after memory replaying in his mind.

You never really know how little you've lived until you see it all right in front of you...

BAM.

Aces eyes shot open (when had he closed them?) To see Mr. Mask standing just roughly six meters away from him, holding a...

...uh....what the hell was that?

BAM. BAM. BAM.

The loud noises rang out one by one. One right after the other.

Ace booked it to the side, trying to catch his breath.

Only for it to get caught again once he looked up.

The creatures head, the glass ink jar, was leaking. It had six small holes in it, and cracks spiderwebbing out from said holes. As the cracks grew larger, the glass began to break off, and more and more ink began to pour out.

"Duece!"

Aces eyes snapped to their third member, who responded immediately with another cauldron.

The head finally shattered. And the monster disappeared.

Slowly, aces gaze fell on the Ramshakle resident once again. Blinking slowly as he watched the guy put the...loud..thing away, before picking up grim once again.

Ace opened his mouth, and before he could even begin to realize what he was doing, he asked, "what was that?"

You called it a gun.

Ruggie:

Listen. Ruggie wasn't new to violence. You can't live in the slums all your life and make it out completely sheltered, no matter how hard your parents try.

And sure. Ruggie wasn't exactly a saint himself, But at this point, was anyone? He certainly didn't think so.

Yeah. Almost getting killed by leona fucked him up a little. But really, it wasn't that new when he really thought about it.

And yeah, leona never really apologized to him for all that, but at times like that, in an environment like savanaclaw? He didn't need to. His actions, no matter how small they were, still spoke for themselves.

So yeah. Ruggie bucchi has a lot of experience with violence.

But if you were to ask ruggie if he's ever seen anything like this before? Yeah. He'd have to answer no.

Everything was going shit. They were following the plan, he did his part flawlessly might he add, and then Azul decided he didn't want to follow the script. So now he was surround by black ink, panicking students, and slightly less panicking... allies? Allies.

But yeah. This sucked.

And so began the fight for his life once again. Honestly, this shit was getting old.

Whipping his head in every which way to look or for flying debris and tentacles (and wasn't that a sentence), and keeping his ears open for shouted commands and warnings, his attention landed on you for half a second, before quickly turning away; In that half second he saw you pull something out from jacket pocket.

About five seconds later, he heard a loud bang.

And not like when the construction workers accidentally drop a metal beam on concrete or something. No, this was just a loud, earth shattering bang that demanded attention. And attention it got.

Several heads snapped to you, holding a...uhhh. You tilted your head to the side, either in confusion or trying to get an angle on Azul.

BANG BANG

And then there was a scream, distorted and pained, with a faint sound of gushing and sloshing, a liquid being spilled. Ink being spilled out of the overblot phantoms head.

"Huh...the other one just died immediately..", he heard you mutter.

Ruggie shot a pointed look over to leona, who just looked at him in confusion. Ok. So he didn't miss anything during his housewardens little episode. He took a quick glance at the heartslabyul duo, who looked like they understood. Well, Ace understood. Duece wasn't close enough to hear and didn't have the hearing to pick up the slack.

Ok. So maybe yuu also decided to whip the thing out when riddle when crazy? He'll ask around later. Probably.

A tentacle slammed right next to him and started writhing around with another loud scream as the phantom lost more and more ink, and Ruggie remembered where they were.

The damage you did the overbloted octopus wasn't enough to downright defeat him, but it was enough to at least make the rest of the way a hell of a lot easier. So they're odds were looking much better than they were. Small mercies.

When everything eventually came to a head and the ink was beginning to melt off of Azul and he could finally breathe, he let his mind drift back to you.

Ok. What the hell. What was that? Why did it make that noise? What did it even do? How'd it shatter thick ass, magic glass? Did it launch blades at it or something? Also, why are you pretending like this whole thing was completely normal?

You weren't freaking out about this, you honestly seemed more focused on combing the gunk out of Azuls hair with your gloved fingers while the twins tried to asses his mental state, grim flopping on the ground off to your side. Now, this is probably your third, or maybe even fourth time you've been in this situation. But perfect, you treating it like it's just another Tuesday isn't exactly. Uh. Normal?

Not that you were normal, you had just began taking regular baths, which he was immensely grateful for. Seriously, he could only hold back leonas hair as he puked so many times before it got old. But even your (lack of) personality raised a few questions. Sometimes he wondered if you where really even there half the time.

After he caught his breath, he began to walk over to where you were, Ace and duece now scolding you and jade trying to check if you were hurt or not, and holy shit that is a big ass gash.

But he was already standing right behind you, so he honestly might as well ask.

"Hey. So uh. What did you do? What made the bangs?"

Your head snapped in his direction, pausing to just stare at him for a few unnerving seconds.

And then you pulled something out and called it a gun.

Jade:

Jade didn't really question why you wanted to join his club, he was just glad someone did. Even if that someone was a fucking weirdo like yourself.

Listen, jade wasn't picky when it came to his clubmembers ok?

Plus, aside from a few conversations about a bird or plant species you liked, and many more questions about basic things that you had apparently never seen before, and him acting like he knew any better than you about it, things went smoothly.

He collected his mushrooms and occasionally stopped to do a fieldsketch and you rolled around in moss and somehow became an instant bird whisperer. It was a good system.

About as good as it could be while you were running from a big ass monster.

Ok. Listen. He knew that there were monsters on this particular mountain, and he knew that some of them were man eaters. But dammit he did the research before hand! He made sure the two of you avoided their natural habitats at all cost! But apparently, this particular one could smell human blood much better than the rest, and apparently, you thought it was a good idea to not tell him you had cut yourself on a rock and were now bleeding.

"There's a cave right there!", he saw you point to an opening in a rock wall that was most definitely the small least cave he'd ever seen "do you think we could hide in it for a minute"

"I don't know!", you didn't really have any other options, running forever until you reached the place where the mirror had dropped you both off was more than inconvenient, especially on a mountain that had more steep cliffs than average. So he quickly signaled to you and began running towards it, awkwardly running into the small hole and barely seeing you baseball slide your way into there with much more ease.

Desperately trying to catch his breath, he started to plan. You only had a few minutes at best before the monster caught up to you, so the best thing they could do with the time they had was treat your wound to the best of his ability, and hope that the smell of blood would gradually fade and the beast would be thrown off your trails.

Click

He looked to you, hunched over and sill slightly panting as you loaded small, but long pointed metal cylinders into...something?

You had stopped wearing the mask, being one of the few people you trusted enough to see your face, which was sweet if he thought about, you were even getting better to look at! Looking a lot less like you had come back from the dead after the apocalypse and more like a recovering drug addict, but hey! Progress!

But he point is, he could see your face, and the look on your eyes, and...

Ah shit.

Perfect. Listen perfect, he knows you're batshit crazy, he is too, but please, you're going to get them killed. Even with your insane amount of luck, your half baked plans only work most of the time so for the love of the sea witch please just-

"I have an idea"

...Dammit.

So that's how you both got here, kneeling just barely out of the cave opening, and him standing on the Rocky formation right above you outside the cave. Waiting for the monster, and possi ly for death. If he survives this the first things he'd doing when he gets back to his dorm room is write his will so that he can make sure his precious mushrooms aren't thrown away by his brother. Would riddle accept them?

"Jade!"

He blinked, got his magic pen ready, and you cocked your gun. Staring at the place where the sound of heavy footsteps and snarls were coming from.

You both waited with baited breath as themonsters form came running up the steep hill and charged towards the two of you.

The sensation of water and earth magics filled the air as spell after spell was released, hitting the creature a good majority of the time. Meanwhile, you were shifting slightly, getting into a position that didn't look the most comfortable, but apparently it worked for you because you quickly gave him a small warning shout.

Jade covered his ears. You had warned him about the sound guns make, and how many people went deaf fro them due to lack of proper equipment and training, you sounded like you were repeating a quote that was all but drilled into you, a saying that everyone knows but never really says out loud. Did he belive you were exaggerating? Slightly.

That went away when he heard the loud boom though, even through his covered ears. Jade grew slightly concerned at the fact that you didnt seem to be too affected by all this.

You didn't seem too surprised at the loud noise. Just angling and adjusting the gun position until you could hit your target more accurately as it moved.

He heard ten shots go off. Out of those ten, at least seven actually hit. The monster, being as huge as it was, was about to ignore the first three. The rest, however, were clearly starting to take a toll on the thing.

He saw you pull the trigger a few more times, nothing more than assumed clicks coming out. Jade couldn't be too sure, as the pained roars of the monster completely drowned out the sound. Wordlessly, he got took his hands away from his ears and readied his magic. Letting it burst all around him and borage the monster as soon as your hand shot up into the air. The signal that you needed to reload and he had to momentarily take over.

The whole event took about fifteen minutes that felt like they were stretched into hours. Ending with him feeling a bit lightheaded, and you firing three extra shots into what he was pretty sure was a monstrous corpse. "Just in case".

Wanting to sit down and take a moment to collect himself was only just outweighed by the urge to make sure you were alright. So, jade jumped down from his little rock podium; he reached the ground just as you completely crawled out of the cave entrance.

Gently, he asked, "are you alright perfect?". A perfectly appropriate question to ask after...that.

To which you, in reply, completely flop down on the rough ground and let out a loud groan, both of you pretending that there wasn't a dead, three-metter tall monster right next to you.

An equally appropriate response.

"Four magazines jade! Four! I'm going to have to make soany bullets now!", jade only nodded, like how you do when he starts ranting about his beloved mushrooms.

Oh well, he'd understand soon enough. He has plenty of questions regarding you and you gun for the walk back to the mirror location.

Kalim:

Kalim felt like was caving in on him.

This was all happening so fast, way too fast. The one person that he thought he could trust whole heartedly, the boy he saw as nothing less than a brother, had done all this.

It was a lot to take in. Everything from his supposed verdict of keeping his dorm members in school, to yuu and grims vague comments, comments that he now recognizes for the warnings they were, to the guys from octavinnle, jamil overblotting, getting flung to the dessert, and now to be back here? Fighting for not only his, but his best friends (were they though?) Life?

Kalim just wanted to cry. The drop the the floor and cry. But he'd already done that and there was no time to do it again now. Not when he could see the ink and the snakes sucking out more and more of jamils life, when he could see jamils body begin the break down and contort in ways that shouldn't be possible. Not when his eyes grew more deranged with every second.

No, Kailm couldn't cry now. Not when Jamil was dying.

Magic attacks meeting the emotions of dread and rage that jamil had kept professionally buried only served made the air more tense. Yuu occasionally shouted directions from he sidelines, directions to use fire magic instead of water, or to dodge an incoming attack that very well could have killed him if it made contact.

And that just raises the question. Did jamil..? Was it his intention to kill him? Was that his goal the entire time?

....No. No, if Jamil wanted Kailm dead, then Kailm would be dead. He didn't want Kailm gone he just wanted him to go away. And for that reason, Kailm had the hope that he needed that he could fix this. And by the seven he'll cling to it for as long as he lives if that's what it takes.

"Perfect!", Jades sharp voice took Kailm right out of his thoughts.

"Yeah? Kailm move to the right!", he moved to the right, just in time for a borage of ink and thron covered vines to come crashing into the exact spot he was standing not even five seconds prior. The vines writhing around like they were alive, and he could see the sharp, jagged edges of its thorns cut into its self with the ease of cutting through soft butter. Not that he would know. "What do you need?"

"Do you have your gun?", Jade svoice was deathly calm, which was a bit jarring all things considered.

He didn't know what a "gun" was, but he guesses floyd knew, because he groaned louder than some of his youngest siblings when they had to get up early.

From out the corner of his eye, he saw you stop for a few seconds. Then you answered.

"Yeah", something in your voice that he couldn't quite read. "Yeah, but I only have like five shots"

Both jade and azul looked less than pleased with that, and Kailm still didn't know what was going on, so he just threw more fire at his friend.

"Well then. You better make them count", azuls matter of fact voice rang out.

He didn't see if you nodded or not. And for the next minute, he didn't hear you at all. There were no more instructions being shouted or anything like that. Just the continued onslaught of four peoples magic, all trying desperately to snap Jamil out of his current state. Who was being bent into more and more inhuman shapes as the seconds passed.

His jaw was opening a little too wide as he laughed, his fingers seemed to be getting longer and more claw like, and his voice was so now so distorted that he could barely even understand what he was saying.

But what freaked him out the most what the loud cracking and crunches of bones breaking. Jamils spine now seemed too long, bent in an unnatural way, accompanied by a crack everytime he moved. He only laughed.

Kalim didn't laugh. There was ink running down his body, all from where he had been contorted. And as time crawled on, his eyes grew more and more crazed, and his distorted laughs turned more like screams.

Kalim wasn't the best at magic, he had never been the best at magic, he knew that, even before now. So when he felt himself become light headed as his energy and magic supply ran low, he started to panic.

Oh no. Oh sevens, oh no. Please no. Not now. Anytime but now. He couldn't lose now. What would happen to jamil? How would he get Jamil home after this?

How was he supposed to tell Jamils family that their son and brother was dead?

BANG

A distorted scream ran out as floyd began to cheer, and his stomach dropped.

BANG BANG BANG

More screams. Blood curdling screams that froze Kalim where he stood. Watching jamils face begin the crack, ink pouring through the cracks on his face like blood as his eyes rolled back and his entire expression turned to one of pain. A perfect mirror to the shattering phantom that loomed behind him.

"I have one shot left and I am not wasting it! Aim for the cracks! Use fire! It'll weaken the glass!", your voice rang out, carrying a determination with it, but also the reality that they were in no way out of the woods yet.

"You mean the magic glass?", azul was skeptical

"Its magic fire", Kailm could hear the shrug in your voice.

Kalim is ashamed to admit it. But he wasn't much help after this. Jamils vpice had random breaks from the distortion. So he had a perfect audio of jamil screaming his vocal cords raw in his actual voice. Something that would haunt him until the day he died.

Ink was still pouring out from his wounds. Bones were still breaking. And it almost looked like Jamils body was melting off of him in a grotesque manner.

Kalim closed his eyes and prayed.

Eventual, the distortion completely went away, so the screams and the sobs seemed less monstrous and more tortured. Jamils attacks completely stopped as well.

And with one final bang, so did yours.

When Kalim opened his eyes again, I was only after jade prayed his hands off his ears, something he doesn't even remember doing.

Azul and yuu were standing over jamils blood covered body, and for a second, he feared the worst.

It was only after you kneeled to check if he was still alive, and he saw Jamil moving did he allow himself to breathe, and to finally cry.

Through blurred vision, he saw you put the gun away. He never asked what it was. He didn't need to know. You saved Jamils life with it, and that was good enough for him.

Rook:

Rook enjoyed beanfeast. Honestly, he could say it was one of his favorite days of the year. What other time? What other opportunities would he get but this? To hunt his fellow classmates for sport like this? To see their determination wither away as they accepted their fates as his prey!

Now, normally rook would go solo on this. Others found it a bit hard to keep up with him until now. Until yuu.

Ah his dear little trickster and his admirable kill or be killed mentality that he had taken up as of late! My, when rook had looked into his eyes, he saw nothing less than the eyes of a killer! A tiger on the hunt!

Or perhaps, he mused, a lion. Because there, right underneath them, was leona kingscholar himself.

Yuu has proposed they move from above, to stay in the wooded area and maintain the high grounds. Yuu had made his way up a tree with the swiftness and elegance of a bird taking flight! Walking steadily along the branches like he was simply made for it.

Together, the two of you had taken out quite a few farmers. With rook silently stalking them and you communicating your predictions with hand signals that he could understand blind. Those predictions of what the farmers would do, or even who would be in the area were proven true to an uncanny extent.

Rook wanted to know how, but that conversation could be saved for a different day.

Rook could barely see you chest rising up and down as you breathed so slowly you might as well haven't have been. He himself was holding his breath as you both angled your bean blasters. The slightest noise could tip the beastman off, after all.

You had temporarily split off to different trees, him being about a dozen meters away from you, just to the left of Leona, while we're were to the right.

He saw you hand slowly raise up, carefully avoiding the rustling leaves as you gave another hand signal. Thos one being significantly more simple than the majority. Just three fingers raised to indicate three seconds. Three seconds and you both shoot. You closed you hand, starting the timer.

Three.

The two of you, perfectly in sync, found your final aims of the beastman.

Two.

You carefully placed your fingers on the trigger. Taking caution not to shoot too early. The last thing would want to do was ruin this seemingly special moment for the two of you.

The wind blew in you direction. Thre leaves began to rustle, and leonas head shot in your direction.

Three.

You both pulled your triggered in perfect harmony, and, like a beautiful dance coming to an end, the mighty lion had fallen. And you both ran across the tree branches, making your ways to eachother as soon as possible.

The happy, adrenaline filled giggle you let out when he finally found found you again was nothing less than precious. Not to mention it fit the moment. Oh how he wishes you would stop trying to compose yourself all the time! The world deserves to see your joy!

He let out a laugh of his own, being rewarded with a smile that you couldn't help. This imagine of you in perfect juxtaposition with how you looked upon first arrival to this world.

And, if he may, rook would like to say that your face was shaping up to be something he wouldn't mind staring at. Ah, recovery was a marvelous thing indeed! He couldn't wait to see your progress by the end if the year.

When the laughter subsided, you took you hand and laid a gentle kiss to the back of your fingers, as a small congregation and a job well done.

"Yes, very nice monsieur. That was very nice indeed", his soft voice suddenly taking on a more mischievous note to it, a not that you matched with those shinning eyes of yours. "Now, I belive we have more game to secure, yes? Let us be off, my dear trickster"

You smiled, the corners of your mouth moving into a smirk. Your eyes, however, he'll the glee of a giddy boy, finally getting to experience something he was robbed of long ago. Rook only hoped that much later in your life, when you think of how many shots you've ever fired, this day will be included.

So smile, dear trickster, that all he asks. That's all you deserve.

________________________________

YALL I AM SO SORRY."I'm working on requests" fucks off your 5 more months omg what am I on. Eat your food, yall gotta be starving rn shit I am a terrible father.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Do you do “cuteness”/safety ratings?

I do not. I am not a fan of the concept of “ratings” blogs in general, honestly. There’s a couple of reasons for that.

Firstly, I am a Tumblr Old, and every ratings-type blog I’ve ever seen that existed to tell people if animal content was okay or not has imploded over time. Sometimes that has been related to their content/topic of choice, sometimes not. It happened when the first blogs like that showed up, and it’s still happening now. Either way, they seem to be a direct path to endless drama, and I want none of that, thanks.

Second, ratings blogs have to be really, really tightly curated to the expertise of the blogger in order to be trustworthy, accurate sources. And when you’re in a position of being seen as an expert on animal stuff by the internet, it’s incredibly tempting to step outside your area of expertise to pass judgement on things. People like your opinions and want to hear them! You’re respected for your knowledge! It is a seductive, seductive path to being far too comfortable speaking outside your wheelhouse.

This is actually part of why the blog slowed down a few years ago and eventually went on hiatus for a while: as it got more and more popular, people wanted me to cover more and more things, and I ended up kinda paralyzed by the need to do so much research in order to respond to those requests. I didn’t want to spread misinformation, but it was so hard to just say no and not try to answer questions. I’m much more comfortable now setting boundaries for myself about what I know enough to address and what I don’t have the appropriate credentials for.

Third, to do any successful science communication - which is what running a rating blog effectively is - you have to know what you don’t know! This is something that comes with time and professional experience in a field. You can’t speedrun it or skip it. And if you don’t know what you don’t know on a topic you want to write about, you’re at high risk of spreading misinformation. Guess what? I know this one from experience! There were times I overreached in the early days of WADTT, either because I didn’t know I was unaware of something, or because it just felt so good to have people want to know what I thought! (My goal is to find the time to go back and share those posts with updated, corrected content and commentary).

As mentioned above, I do a lot of work to be comfortable with not knowing things. I either do the research needed to find an answer when I run into an unknown, admit I don’t know and can’t answer, or simply don’t engage with the topic if I can’t contribute productively. This is where a lot of ratings blogs run into issues, as they generally reflect just the individual knowledge of the blogger(s) writing them. There’s a big difference between having an opinion that you discuss with your friends, and having an opinion that you share with thousands or tens of thousands of people. If you’ve shared an incorrect opinion about something in a way that’s amplified across tumblr, even if you fix your mistake publicly, there’s no way to stop the earlier misinformation from continuing to spread.

And fourth, there’s that word I keep using: authoritative. Content that provides a rating is very black-and-white. This is bad. This is good. Do support this, don’t support that. Unfortunately, there are so, so few situations involving animals are actually that clear cut. This is especially true when we’re talking about recorded animal media, like photos, videos, and even documentaries, because a lot of the context has been removed. So that authoritative perspective? It’s really just someone on the internet telling you what you should believe.

I’d rather teach people how to think about animal content and draw their own conclusion. People gain so much more knowledge from engaging with the concepts themselves. If you just give someone an answer about a video being ok or not, for instance, they don’t learn how to assess the next one themselves. But if you teach them what questions to ask, how to work through what they want to learn, how to assess context, and where to find the information they need, they’re able to do it themselves with content in the future. Teaching and encouraging independent analysis of animal media is a much better way to stop misinformation or unethical content from spreading compared to just telling people some stuff is bad and they should stop sharing it.

So nope, no ratings here. Sometimes I’ll comment on things that my professional background allows me to be comfortable having an authoritative opinion on (e.g. the danger of unmonitored interactions between dogs and babies) but most of the time, I’m going to tell you what I see, what I know, what I don’t know, and what my thoughts are and why. My goal in running this blog and teaching people is about the journey, not the destination.

[cutielights]

may I request some headcanons for the rise! turtles w/ a reader who loves rats? (like bruno madrigal) they’ve usually got at least one or two on their shoulders, their hoodie/jacket pockets, etc. (their pet ones ofc)

please, and thank you

I need to feed my followers as I finish the fluff alphabet <3 (just gotta write Donnie’s segment!)

What a lovely request anon!

Tw: None

Rise! Boys x Rat owner S/O

Leo

Asks if they’re yours or if they just like you

Enamoured by them, likes seeing them nest in your hair

That’s his lock screen btw, the rats in your hair

Gives them tiny skateboards

Pushes them around on said tiny skateboards

Takes the rats with no warning

Puts them on his head

Gives them lil chew things, in an attempt at preventing holes in everyone’s clothes

An attempt

Gives them small sunglasses, so they can be as “cool as him”

Raph

Your rats don’t like him at first

Have you seen how animals react to this guy?Definitely need some trust exercises

Rat peed on him once

He claims it’s because they don’t like him

And- hey! You never know but probably not

With some treats they eventually come around

Likes holding them, they look so tiny in his hands!

Watches them sleep, just, look at them they’re so cute

Let’s them nap in between his stuffies, just because it’s adorable

Loves their little tails, the way they curl around things? Amazing

Donnie

Could really use a Lab rat or two, but respects that you love them and will not let him

Took a while for him to get used to them

But the rats?

They love him

Maybe it’s the smell

I mean, you guys are a package deal so he doesn’t have a choice, would never pull a ‘it’s me or them’

He does like that they’re warm however, jealous

Of what you may ask? That you get many tiny personal heaters at all times and he does not

But- then again he could just… make some, but I digress

Eventually comes to love them, giving them treats and a place to nap if you aren’t available for whatever reason

Mikey

Loves the little babies from the get go

Makes them food, likes feeding them things

Asks to give any potential babies names

Definitely has a page or two in his sketchbook with them as the muse’s

Watches them take naps in your pockets

LOVES it when they scurry up his arms

It’s so ticklish! And he’s not wearing a shirt so it’s amplified

Watches their shenanigans

Films them too, just as a keepsake

Dies of cuteness when spotting them sleeping

Game: do I like rats? The answer may surprise you! It won’t

[asa-do-your-thing]

Release

18+ MINORS DNI Jacaerys Velaryon x F!Reader 2.6k Warnings: SMUT, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, innocence / corruption kink ig, as always no proofreading no nothing

You always knew that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had a special fondness for you, and as you grew older, his feelings grew stronger. The Queen, his mother, seemed to approve of this and promised your father that a suitable marriage would be arranged. However, she failed to mention that this would only happen once Jacaerys married his cousin, Lady Baela.

Despite thinking of Jace as your closest friend, you came to realize that there were other reasons he wanted you around. He may have been too proper to admit it directly, but something was definitely going on between the two of you. Even during thunderstorms like this one, he couldn't resist reaching out to touch you or offering to hold you close in the dreary castle where you played these games together.

“Jace, I… I am not a child anymore, I don’t think I need to sit in your lap…,” you mumbled, playfully trying to wriggle out of his grasp. “And, Oh! Jace! You’ve such cold hands, I…!”

The sound of the thundering storm outside filled the room as Prince Jacaerys chuckled, his warm breath gently caressing your ear. His arms were like steel bands around you, pulling you closer to him as he settled comfortably in the overstuffed armchair beside the fireplace.

You felt your heart racing in anticipation - not just from fear of the storm but from the electricity that seemed to crackle between you both whenever he got this close.

"Oh come now, my dearest friend," he teased, his voice low and seductive. "You know that sitting on my lap is exactly what you want." His hot breath sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps across your skin as he nuzzled his cheek against yours. "And isn't it better to be warm and safe inside with me than out there, shivering in the cold?"

He held you tighter, almost possessively, and it was impossible not to notice the way his fingers danced along your arms, tracing patterns on your skin that sent delicious chills down your spine. You found yourself squirming under his touch, trying desperately not to let him see how much you enjoyed it. Your heart raced faster when he leaned in closer and whispered against your neck, "I've missed you these past moons." His words sent a wave of heat through you that was only amplified by the gentle breeze from the fireplace fanning against your skin. “King’s Landing is boring without you.”

You blushed and batted your eyelashes, feigning ignorance of the growing pressure under your buttocks. “I missed you too. You've missed the warmth - it was finally warm enough to go swimming. I went with your mother the Queen’s ladies’ maids. But then again… I don’t think you would’ve come with us, for we were all in the thinnest of shifts and they all turned see-through… No, right, you would probably just have trained with your uncle and your brother. What a foolish idea, you, swimming with us…”

There was a brief moment of stillness, and then you had to maintain a neutral expression as Jace moaned quietly into your hair. He placed his hand on your clothed thigh and gave it a squeeze, his arousal evident by the way his hardness twitched. It was amusing to act like an innocent maiden, and it clearly turned him on immensely.

Prince Jacaerys's eyes glinted with mischievous amusement, and he leaned in to nip at your earlobe. "Oh, really? And what were you ladies doing while I was gone?" His hand began to move up your thigh slowly, teasingly tracing patterns on your skin as he waited for your response. You could feel the anticipation building between you both as his fingers grazed closer and closer to the edge of your damp fabric.

"We swam in the warm sea," you replied coyly, trying not to squirm too much under his touch. "The waves were rough and salty, and the sand was warm and comforting. We splashed around and tried to steal each other’s shifts." You let out a momentary giggle, grinning to yourself. It’d been much tamer, of course, but you were playing expertly into his fantasy. You knew there was nothing he wanted as much as to make you his, to corrupt his favorite ‘little Lady’. "It felt so refreshing!"

"Mmm, I bet it did," he purred, and you could practically hear the wicked grin in his voice. His fingers had now reached the top of your thigh-high stocking, his fingertips tracing patterns along your bare skin. Goosebumps erupted across your body as he continued to tease you, inch by agonizing inch. "Tell me more…"

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you continued with the charade, embellishing the details to please him. "Well," you began, slightly breathless, "the sun was so hot that day... and we were all quite flushed from our swim. We laid out on the sand to dry off, letting the breeze dry our damp hair... and... and our shifts." You let out a little gasp as his fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive spot behind your knee, just where the lace that held up the stocking was, sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh Jace! That tickles!"

The room was heavy with desire now, the only sound between you two becoming the crackling fireplace and the steady patter of rain against the windowpanes.

The tension was palpable as you both danced around what neither of you wanted to admit out loud - that this game had gone on long enough. You decided to finish this slowly, to tease and torture him just a little longer, seeing as you have wrapped him around your finger whilst he thought the same about himself.

“They told me some stories about what their Husbands were doing to, and uh… with them. I could hardly believe what they were saying… I… Oh, I wish I could talk about it with you, but you’re, well, you. It would be improper.”

The look on Jace's face was priceless - a mix of lust, desire, and determination to know more about your imagined trysts. His hand had stilled its ministrations, replaced by a feverish grip on your thigh as he leaned in closer. "Tell me. Please, I want to know."

You bit your lower lip, playing the part of the coy maiden to perfection. "Well, if you insist…" You leaned in closer to him adjusting your seat on his lap, all the while letting your hand sneak behind his neck, gently playing with his locks. "They… they said their husbands were... touching them... there," you said, blushing and pointing to your lower abdomen.

"And that it made them feel... quite nice. But... But I don't understand why that would be pleasant, Jace... They also said that they, when their husbands wished it, opened their mouths wide and did this to… well…," she mumbled and slowly licked her finger. “That sounds… so scandalous. Against walls, in the sea, over tables… In the mouth, in the lady parts and even… buttocks…”

The vulnerability you exuded, the innocence you presented, melted away as you allowed him a glimpse at the cunning woman underneath. You wanted this too, and by the Mother, did you want it now. An involuntary moan escaped your lips.

He growled low in his throat, his breath fanning over your heated skin, and you knew that the line between reality and fantasy had blurred for him. His hands were no longer playful but demanding as he cupped your bottom cheeks and pulled you closer to him. "And what do you think about that, little one? Do you want to experience such scandalous things? To feel the touch of your Prince?"

Your eyes locked with his as you ran your tongue along your lower lip. "I… I don't know, Your Grace," you purred, grinding slightly against his hardness through your petticoats. "Only you can show me…"

His eyes darkened as he stared into yours before he leaned in closer and pressed his mouth to yours in a hungry kiss. His lips were soft yet firm as they moved against yours urgently, desperately, as if he was trying to devour every part of you. His tongue slipped between your lips without waiting for permission and explored every inch of your mouth, tasting you like a man starved of water in the Dornish deserts.

You moaned into the kiss, unable to control yourself any longer. Your hands tangled themselves in his silky black hair as you pressed yourself closer to him seeking more contact between your bodies – desperate for something... more...

"You're such a tease," he murmured in your ear, lifting you up and carrying you to his bed. "I'll show you everything, I've been waiting for this moment for so long."

As he carefully laid you down on the bed, he assured you, "I won't hurt you, my dear. I just..." His words trailed off, mumbled like a drunken confession as he pushed your skirt up and reveled in the sensation of your wetness.

"Gods, I want you so badly." He dropped down onto his knees and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, sloppily kissing your thighs up to your sweetness. “Tell me you’re mine, I want to hear you screaming my name… My perfect little Lady…”

You didn't hesitate in your response. "Yours, Jace. I'm yours and only yours... please... I need you... now..."

He didn't need any more encouragement as he pulled your hiked your skirt, exposing your core to him completely. You gasped as his hot, wet tongue found your bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

He was as good with his mouth as he was with words, you realized, and you moaned louder, arching your back. This wasn't how Ladies spoke about it in stories, it was so much better... so much more intimate.

"You are so wet for me," Jace murmured between long, languid kisses and licks up your slit, his tongue working its magic as he tasted your arousal. He grinned against your folds, the hungry look in his eyes making him seem even more wicked and dangerous. His fingers found their way into your stockings, tracing up your thighs and teasingly skimming the sensitive skin beneath them, making you gasp and shiver.

"And how do you like this?" he asked, his rough voice sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help but whimper in response as he dipped a finger inside you, stretching your tight entrance, filling you with delicious pleasure. "Do you like feeling how wanton you are for me?"

His other hand slid underneath your shift to caress your bare stomach before trailing up to cup one of your breasts. His nails scraped lightly against your sensitive nipple, making you arch into him and made you let out a needy moan.

"Oh yes," he breathed against your skin, "Let me see how much you need me." With that, he pulled back the soft fabric of your chemise to expose one breast completely and took it into his mouth with a growl while his fingers continued to work their way inside of you.

His lips and tongue circled around the sensitive peak while his fingers thrust deeper into you, pushing against that wonderful, aching spot inside.

The sensations were out of this world and increased with each push of his fingers, though every time you came close to your undoing, he stopped what he was doing with a small smirk. “You really think I’m letting you finish so quickly? No, little one, you’ve teased me long enough. It’s my turn now…”

With a final, lingering suck on your nipple, he stood up and undid his trousers. His manhood, long and hard pressed against his trousers, could no longer be hidden. His eyes bored into yours as he removed the last barrier between you two. He positioned himself at your entrance and looked down at you expectantly, "Tell me you want this."

“Yes,” you breathed out, your voice unsteady with desire. “I want you, Jace. I want all of you... inside... now...”

He smiled a devilish grin before he entered you roughly in one go, stopping only momentarily to let you adjust to his size.

"Jace, oh..." You couldn't help but moan out loud as he filled you completely, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. The slight pain quickly dissipated as pleasure took its place. Panting for air, pearls of sweat began to form on your brow as Jace continued to thrust into you relentlessly - slowly at first then picking up speed with every moan that escaped your lips until your bodies were slapping against each other like the waves in the Narrow Sea during a stormy night.

“Mine… Mine, all mine, so perfect, such a beautiful cunny, all mine, so tight I…”, he rambled and held onto both of your shoulders to push himself deeper into you as you folded your legs around his handsome, muscular torso. “Only mine, so beautiful… Fuck, open your mouth, darling,”, he groaned and blushed when you wantonly opened your mouth, letting your tongue hang out. He gathered some spit and let it drip down into your mouth, shuddering at the feeling of your walls tightening around his hard cock.

“Is this what you wanted, Little One? To be used like a whore? A common whore with her legs spread wide for any man who would have her?”

Your hips bucked against his, meeting him thrust for thrust as you rode out the waves of pleasure crashing over you from his words and his cock. “You’re so wet, so slick, just for me… No one else, only me… no one can have this… this tight cunny…”

Tears of pleasure streamed down your face as you neared the precipice, not caring about decorum or anything else but the building fire between your legs. "Yes, Yours… only yours..." you panted, barely able to form a coherent sentence anymore. "Only yours... I want you... to... to... fuck me... make me yours forever... oh Jace...," you whined, clenching your fists and biting down on your lip as you convulsed in pure extasy.

It felt beautifully cruel as Jace continued chasing his high before pulling our at the last second, spraying his hot seed over your stomach and your hitched dress.

His groans of pleasure filled the room as he collapsed onto the bed next to you. His chest heaved, sweat pouring down his bare torso. After a moment, he turned towards you and you were met with a sight that rendered you speechless. His dark eyes shone with a mixture of satisfaction, lust, and something deeper, something tender that sent sparks fluttering in your belly.

"Forgive me," he whispered, his voice rough from the aftermath of his climax. "I was too rough." His hand moved up to trace lazy circles on your inner thigh, making you shiver at the touch. "I promise to be gentler next time," he murmured, his fingers moving higher until they traced the edge of your sore entrance.

He moved closer to you as his other hand cradled your cheek, his thumb lightly brushing against your lips. He leaned in and planted a light kiss on them. It was so different from the fierce and passionate ones you had shared earlier; this one was soft and gentle like a fleeting promise.

"From now on, I will treat you like a princess," he told you, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I hope you enjoyed it," he added gingerly. You nodded in response even though there was a sudden lump in your throat that made it difficult for you to get any words out.

"I'm not a princess," you protested weakly.

"Well," he smirked down at you, "you are my princess."