#and shes not mad at me or trying to pressure me

[mythicalninjas]

Hi! Idk if you’re requests are still open but!

Could you do a Donnie getting mad/having a bad day and he kinda explodes (with no reason/gratuitamente) with reader (she)? And they stay away from the lair for a while, and happy ending! (Just want heart-crushing angst with happy ending hsuahs)

(Tbh the prompt I actually thought was “Donnie was stressed and tired of being different, reader who’s autistic says they relate, so he explodes saying they don’t, how could they?” But idk if you’re ok with writing that, so I simplified it! ~I’m autistic, that’s why I thought of that~)

If my ask is to complicated or didn’t inspire you that’s tots ok! I understand! (Sorry this ask was so big too!)

Have a good day/ night! ☺️

It's okay, your prompt is amazing ☺️ Sorry for keeping you waiting for too long... I had to deal with college in the past several months.

I hope I did write the way you asked. Enjoy 💜

It was a quiet night in the lair, but that didn't reflect Donatello's internal state. The laboratory was plunged into darkness, save for the dim light of the monitors that cast dancing shadows on the walls. The frantic sound of the keyboard echoed, the only sound apart from the hum of the machines at work. Donnie was exhausted, physically and emotionally. His brain was burning with data overload, with formulas and calculations that didn't fit together as they should. It had been days of incessant research, of failed experiments, of trying to find solutions to problems that seemed to multiply.

Every mistake, every failure, was a nagging reminder that he needed to be better. He had to be better. There was no room for weakness. His brothers depended on him, the world depended on him. And the constant pressure to deliver results was starting to implode inside. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he kept pushing, ignoring the body that was crying out for rest, ignoring the accumulated stress.

She entered the laboratory, as she had done so many times before. Her steps were soft, as if she were trying not to interrupt, but her presence always brought a sense of comfort that Donnie appreciated, even if he never admitted it out loud. He was so focused that he barely noticed her coming until he felt the soft touch of her fingers on his shoulder.

"Hey, Donnie..." Her voice was soft, a gentle touch to his swirling mind. "Are you all right?"

Donatello barely lifted his eyes from the monitors, trying to recalculate a complicated sequence. "I'm busy now," he muttered, his fingers still running across the keyboard.

She waited for a moment, watching the tiredness on his face. She knew that he threw himself into his work when he was frustrated or anxious, and she had learned to give him space when necessary. But now, there was something different in the air. He seemed more tense than usual, more closed off.

She let out a little sigh, hesitating before speaking again. "I know you're busy, but... maybe it's time to take a break? You've been at it for hours..."

Her touch should have been a comfort, but at that moment, something in Donnie snapped. The pressure, the frustration, the accumulated tiredness - it all blended together in an explosion of emotions that he could no longer control.

“I said I'm busy!” His voice echoed louder than he had intended. He stood up abruptly from his chair, his eyes blazing with anger, anger that wasn't hers, but which ended up being directed at her. “Don't you understand? I can't stop! If I stop, I'll fail. If I fail, everything falls apart! And you here, distracting me with… with your unimportant things!

She took a step back, shocked. The impact of his words had hit her like a punch in the gut. Never, in all the time she had known him, had he spoken to her like that. Always so calm, so controlled… but now, he seemed on the verge of collapse. Her eyes filled with tears before she could control herself, but she refused to let them fall. She didn't want to show how much it had hurt her.

“I'm sorry for… bothering you.” Her voice was low, broken, almost inaudible.

She turned quickly and left the lab before he could say anything else, before the tears flowed. Donnie stood there, his heart racing, the echo of his words still hanging in the air. For a few seconds, he remained motionless, trying to process what had just happened. Then the guilt began to set in, slow and corrosive.

He had hurt someone who had never been anything but kind to him. He had hurt her.

She walked aimlessly through the streets of New York, the cold of the night beginning to bother her, but nothing compared to the tightness in her chest. The emotional pain was much stronger than any physical discomfort. She couldn't stop thinking about his words, the tone of his voice. It was as if the Donnie she knew, the one who always cared, who listened and understood, had disappeared, replaced by someone she barely recognized.

She walked for hours, wandering around the city, trying to find some clarity amidst the confusion of feelings. Part of her wanted to understand why he had exploded like that. He was overwhelmed, that was obvious. But did that justify what he'd said? The sharp words still echoed in her mind, and she wondered if he really thought that.

While she was lost in thought, Donnie was back in the lab, but his focus had completely disappeared. The screens flashed in front of him, but he could barely see what was written. Guilt was consuming him from the inside out. He knew he had made a mistake, that he had said horrible things. The frustration he felt wasn't her fault, and yet he had taken it out on the person who least deserved it.

Finally, he got up from his chair and left the lair. He needed to find her, he needed to correct the mistake he had made. He didn't know exactly what he would say, but he knew he had to apologize, he had to make amends.

After some time, he found her. She was sitting on top of a building, her gaze lost in the horizon. The evening breeze swayed her hair, and Donnie felt his heart squeeze at seeing her so far away, so hurt. He hesitated for a moment before approaching. Each step seemed heavy, weighed down by guilt and regret.

“Hey,” he called, his voice softer than before, almost fearful.

She didn't turn around immediately, but he knew she had heard. Donnie sat down next to her, keeping a respectful distance. The silence between them was thick, full of unspoken words, but he knew he needed to speak, needed to break through that wall he himself had erected.

“I'm sorry,” he began, his voice low, sincere. “I… I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. You didn't deserve that. None of it was your fault.”

She remained silent for a few moments, and he almost thought she wouldn't answer. But then she sighed, her eyes still fixed on the city.

“Why did you do it, Donnie?” her voice was broken, and he realized how much his words had really hurt her. “I just… I just wanted to help you. And you pushed me away.”

Donnie closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his own failings. “I know. I know you were only trying to help. And I… I was an idiot. I was frustrated, tired, and lost control. But that's no excuse for what I did.”

She finally turned her face to look at him. Her eyes were watery, but the anger had given way to a deep sadness. “You didn't have to hurt me like that, Donnie. I'm always here for you, you know that. And yet… you blew up at me, as if I was part of the problem.”

Her words dug deep into Donnie's heart. He had been the cause of her pain, and now he could clearly see the impact his actions had had. It wasn't just the momentary explosion, but what came after - the insecurity, the doubt. He needed to fix that.

Donnie swallowed, feeling small in the face of what he had caused. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice full of regret. “You're… the last person in the world I wanted to be cruel to. I was just so overwhelmed, with all the pressure of being the brains, of having to sort everything out for my brothers… And I ended up taking it out on you.”

She sighed, looking at the horizon again. “I understand that you have this responsibility, Donnie. I know how much you carry. But I was also there, trying to share that weight with you. And you pushed me away, as if I wasn't important.”

Her words pierced his heart harder than any physical attack could. She was right. He had spent so long concentrating on his own burden that he didn't realize how much she was trying to help, how much she wanted to be there for him.

“I was wrong,” he said, with more conviction this time. “I was wrong about everything. I know I can be controlling and stubborn, but I need you. I… want you by my side. You're important to me. More than I can express.”

She remained silent, absorbing his words. He moved a little closer, reaching out hesitantly and placing his hand gently on hers.

“I promise,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I promise I'll try to be better. I'll work on myself, on how I handle things, so that this doesn't happen again.”

She looked at him, her eyes finally meeting his, assessing the sincerity she saw there. And she realized that, although he had made a mistake, he was willing to do whatever it took to make it right. It was a long road, but she knew Donnie was committed to walking it.

“I want to believe that, Donnie,” she murmured, her voice still tinged with a slight pain. “I just… need some time.”

He nodded, understanding. “I understand. And I'll give you as much time as you need.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, side by side, watching the city lights. The noise of life below continued, indifferent to the emotions that filled the top of that building. But there, between them, time seemed to have slowed down, making room for reconciliation, for forgiveness.

She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder, a small concession. He felt relief run down his spine, as if that simple gesture was proof that things would eventually be all right. He knew he was lucky - lucky that she was still there, by his side, even after everything.

Donnie wrapped his arm around her, gently pulling her closer, as if he were trying to protect her not only from the outside world, but also from himself. His heart was pounding, but this time, not out of guilt or anger, but out of gratitude. He knew he had a second chance, and he would do his best not to waste it.

They stayed there for a while longer, the silence now less heavy, more comforting. The cold night wind blew lightly, but Donnie felt the warmth of having her close again. She was still hurting, and he knew it would take time for everything to heal completely. But he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to win back her trust.

Finally, she stood up slowly, and Donnie followed her. She gave him a small smile, still shy, but which warmed his heart. “Let's go home,” she said, and those words were all he needed to hear.

Together, they descended from the building and headed back to the lair. The walk back was silent, but the tension between them had eased. She didn't hold his hand, but she didn't push him away either. For Donnie, that was a start.

And he knew that, in time, they would find a way to heal - together.

[elysiaheaven]

𝗡𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱-𝟮𝟱-(The Fox's Wedding)

Words:3132

Mentions of k!lling

Hoolay, his demeanor cold and calculating, faced Jiaoqiu with a mocking smile. "Perfect chance? To return to my weak and shattered pack, at the mercy of a ridiculous false prophet, and become a mere puppet in her clutches? Heh, her plan is full of flaws. The only paths she has prepared for you are escape and death."

He then turned his piercing gaze toward Jiaoqiu. "Listen up, a wolf never allows itself to become prey. From now on, you'll follow my orders."

Jiaoqiu, stunned by the sudden shift, could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Wait, what did you just say?"

Mok Tok, clearly unsettled, interjected, "But my Lord...!"

Hoolay's eyes narrowed, a hint of menace in his voice. "Would an alpha wolf ever listen to a cub, Mok Tok?"

Mok Tok quickly lowered his gaze, his voice trembling. "No, I've never heard anything like that... I... I wasn't trying to defy your will. I will always unquestioningly follow your orders."

Hoolay, ignoring Mok Tok's plea, continued with an unsettling calm. "I'm offering you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Don't you want to run away, Jiaoqiu?"

Jiaoqiu's face was etched with confusion and concern. "What game are you playing?"

Hoolay's smile widened, his voice laced with dark amusement. "Just a little pre-hunt entertainment. Don't you want to run away? I'm giving you a chance to see the ports and report back to me."

Your eyes widened in shock and disbelief as Hoolay's words sank in. You struggled against the cage, your fear and confusion giving way to a desperate resolve. "What... what are you planning to do?"

Hoolay's gaze flicked towards you, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "You Jiaoqiu, too, will aid me in this little game. After all, foxian like you always obediently return to their masters... no matter how far they run away."

Jiaoqiu, realizing the gravity of the situation, looked at you with a mixture of concern and determination. "Y/n, we need to get out of this. I'll figure something out. But you must be ready to act quickly."

You, despite the overwhelming fear and uncertainty, nodded. "I... I will do whatever it takes. But we need to find a way to stop Hoolay and Mok Tok."

Hoolay, pleased with your response, turned to Mok Tok. "Make sure they understand their roles. I expect results, or the consequences will be dire."

Mok Tok nodded, though his face was filled with apprehension. "Yes, my Lord."

Jiaoqiu, couldn't believe his luck. "I can't believe he actually let me go... What game is he playing?" His thoughts raced as he considered his options. "Perhaps I can try to warn the Cloud Knights... No, maybe escaping might be the best course of action..But Y/n...."

He scanned his surroundings, noting the sharp pressure of a foxian's cold gaze. The look carried an unspoken warning: "Every clever little thought you bear might lead to severe consequences you will come to regret."

Jiaoqiu's expression hardened. "Just as I expected... He's testing me."

As he continued toward the port, his mind churned with concerns. "The Cloud Knights must have been aware of the situation inside The Shackling Prison for some time. Will General Feixiao personally lead a squad to capture Hoolay?"

Suddenly, a sharp, familiar pain made him flinch. 

"Y/n?" Jiaoqiu's eyes widened in shock. "What are you—"

You clutched his hand tightly, your expression full of pain and worry. "Jiaoqiu, be careful. Hoolay's games are dangerous... I will come with you tho,every step I take is like walking on a bed of needles."

Jiaoqiu could see the glass shards embedded in your hands and the pain etched across your face. Despite the agony, you tried to control your expressions, maintaining a semblance of calm. "I... I need to warn you. Don't go too far."

Jiaoqiu, torn between his mission and your condition, took a deep breath. "Alright, I understand. But we need to find a way to stop this madness."

He continued to move towards the port, his pace slower now as he kept a watchful eye on you. "I can't risk being seen trying to escape, and someone is definitely keeping an eye on me," he thought, glancing over his shoulder.

Jiaoqiu's mind was a whirlwind of strategies and concerns. "I'll do as Hoolay asked for now, but I need to find a way to alert the Cloud Knights without drawing attention."

Jiaoqiu stood silently before Hoolay, his eyes cold and resolute. "You're back, Jiaoqiu," Hoolay's voice slithered into the stillness. The wolfish leader's eyes gleamed, waiting for any sign of defiance or betrayal.

Jiaoqiu met his gaze without flinching. "You were watching me closely, weren't you? If I had sought help, your people would have killed them on the spot. Was that your plan all along, Hoolay?"

Hoolay grinned darkly, leaning back with a subtle nod. "Smart as always. You're quick to understand. I told you to go check the situation at the port, but I never said you could speak to anyone."

Jiaoqiu clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. He had walked through the streets, ignoring his instincts to seek help from the Cloud Knights, avoiding anyone who might be caught in the crossfire. He had seen the watchful eyes following him, the threat hanging in the air like a knife waiting to drop. But you... you had been with him all along, limping silently by his side, enduring the pain of the glass shards still embedded in your skin.

"Why?" Jiaoqiu growled, his voice thick with frustration. "Why this game? What do you gain from holding everyone's life in your hands like this?"

You glanced between them, keeping your emotions in check. Your steps had been agonizing, the glass shards cutting deeper into your feet with every movement. But you didn't let it show. Not now. Not when it was clear that Hoolay was savoring his control over both of you.

"You did the right thing, Jiaoqiu," you said softly, your voice steady despite the pain. "You didn't involve the Cloud Knights. But that doesn't mean he's done testing you."

Hoolay let out a low chuckle, watching the two of you with interest. "Ah, Y/n. Always the clever one, aren't you? But cleverness won't save either of you here."

He leaned forward, his expression darkening. "You're here because you want to play the game. If you had sought help, I would have had my men execute them in front of you. The more hope you hold, the greater your pain when I snuff it out. But you didn't—so now you remain in my hands, just like everyone else."

Jiaoqiu's heart pounded in his chest as he stared into Hoolay's cold, unfeeling eyes. There was no way out of this. No matter what choice he made, someone would suffer. He had taken the safer path, but it still led to the same end: submission to Hoolay's twisted game.

"You're doing this to prove that you hold all the cards, aren't you?" Jiaoqiu muttered bitterly.

Hoolay smiled, baring his teeth. "Exactly. You may have made it back here without seeking help, but that just means I get to enjoy this a little longer. Watching you both struggle... it's truly delightful."

Hoolay hurted Jiaoqiu!

What are you just staring at them! Do something!

 The moment Jiaoqiu winced from the pain, you couldn't hold it in anymore. A strangled cry escaped your throat, the sound raw and desperate. You rushed toward him, heart racing in your chest, but before you could reach him, something far worse happened.

"Ahhhh!!!!! Kill hoolay now!" You screamed at a borisin nearby. You could control their minds...Thank god!

A nearby borisin, stirred by your scream, lunged at Hoolay, as if trying to strike in your defense. For a split second, everything froze. The air was thick with anticipation, but Hoolay didn't flinch. Instead, with effortless precision, he stopped the creature mid-attack, his strength overpowering it with ease. His hand found its way to the doll that had been clutched in his grip, the one that symbolized a fragile piece of control he had over the situation. With a wicked grin, Hoolay squeezed it with all his might, and you could almost hear the crackle of fabric and stuffing tearing apart.

You stopped in your tracks, anger flaring in your eyes. You glared at him, your whole body trembling with fury as he crushed the doll in his hand like it was nothing. You wanted to lash out, to strike him down for daring to hurt Jiaoqiu, but your limbs felt frozen, caught between fear and rage.

Hoolay turned his gaze on you, amused by your reaction. His smile deepened, sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light as he observed you carefully. "You're a strange one, aren't you?" he said, his voice a soft purr. "You've lost your fear of pain and torture so quickly... fascinating."

You stared him down, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, but your heart stuttered in your chest when Hoolay shifted his attention. His eyes, predatory and calculating, flicked back to Jiaoqiu.

Jiaoqiu's breath hitched, and his face paled as Hoolay's gaze lingered on him, the amusement in the warlord's eyes morphing into something far darker. You saw it immediately—the spark of fear igniting in Jiaoqiu's eyes. His bravado, his strength, all of it crumbled under the weight of Hoolay's piercing stare.

"No..." you whispered, your voice hoarse, barely able to believe the shift in the room. The dread clawed at your throat, choking you.

Hoolay's laugh was deep and mocking, echoing in the small space. He glanced back at you with a knowing smirk, his cruel eyes glinting. "Ahh, there it is... Your weakness is clear to me now," he said softly, his tone like ice cutting through your defenses. "You don't fear for yourself... you fear for him."

His words hung heavy in the air, and the realization stung deeper than any wound. He had found the one thing that could break you—Jiaoqiu. You could endure pain, torment, humiliation, but seeing Jiaoqiu in danger, seeing that fear in his eyes, was enough to shatter the steely resolve you had so carefully built.

Hoolay's laughter echoed once again, the sound dripping with victory. He knew he had the upper hand now. "Your courage is just an illusion," he sneered, "as long as you have something to lose."

You stared back at him.

The suffocating air in the room felt heavier with every word that Hoolay spoke. His voice, gravelly and thick with the weight of ancient hatred, slithered into every corner of the space. You stood there, muscles tensed, watching as he circled Jiaoqiu like a predator toying with its prey.

Hoolay's reminiscing turned into something darker as he recounted the early years of his captivity. His eyes burned with memories of suffering, torment, and bloodshed—of being prodded, poked, and drained by the foxians in their attempts to unravel the secret of "Moon Rage."

Jiaoqiu, despite his training, stood motionless, the weight of Hoolay's words pressing down on him like an invisible force. His face was unreadable, though you could feel the subtle tension in his shoulders, the quiet agony of realization sinking in. This wasn't just another prisoner speaking to him—this was a warlord of unimaginable cruelty, shaped by centuries of suffering, and now, reborn with the dark promise of his ancestors.

You stepped forward, trying to break the heavy silence, your breath quickening. "Stop it, Hoolay," you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended. "What kind of monster are you, to believe in these barbaric rituals? The Lunar Embryo, the moon heart, devouring... you're nothing but a savage, clinging to a nightmare."

Hoolay's laughter rippled through the room, deep and rumbling. He turned his gaze toward you, eyes glinting with amusement. "A monster, you say? Perhaps. But you, little fox, have yet to witness the true power that lies within. Your words are laced with fear, not bravery." His gaze flicked to Jiaoqiu, and his lips curled into a twisted smile. "But not him. No... Jiaoqiu seeks power, but not to destroy his enemies or to become them. He's the most pitiful of all—he seeks it to help others."

You clenched your fists, feeling the sharp sting of glass shards embedded in your skin, remnants of your earlier defiance. The pain was dull now, overshadowed by the anger boiling beneath the surface. Jiaoqiu shifted slightly, glancing your way, but his attention remained locked on Hoolay. His silence was deliberate, cautious.

Hoolay's voice softened, almost mockingly. "I see it in you, healer. You want answers. And I... well, I know everything about the Moon Rage, about the power you so desperately want to understand."

Jiaoqiu's lips twitched, his voice low but steady. "What are you trying to tell me, Hoolay?"

The warlord's eyes gleamed as he began recounting the tale of Duran, the ancestor of the borisin, who sought to defy his limited lifespan and seize control of the stars themselves. His words painted a vivid picture of blood sacrifice, genetic sorcery, and the birth of the Lunar Embryo—a power that, he claimed, resided within every generation of the Borisin Warhead.

Hoolay stepped closer to Jiaoqiu, towering over him like a predator sizing up his prey. His voice dropped into a hushed growl. "Devouring is the essence of life, Jiaoqiu. It's what allows us to endure. To thrive. The divine heart that beats within me has been passed down through generations, through ritual and sacrifice." He paused, then leaned in, his breath warm against Jiaoqiu's ear. "I thought I was lost, that hope had died after centuries of torment. But now... this heart beats once again."

A tremor ran through you at his words. You knew Hoolay's next move would be ruthless, unrelenting. The sheer conviction in his voice was terrifying, and yet, you could see the flicker of hesitation in Jiaoqiu's eyes. He was holding something back, weighing his options—perhaps deciding how much of the truth he should reveal.

Before Jiaoqiu could respond, Hoolay's lips twisted into a sinister grin. "Now, it's your turn to tell me everything about the Merlin's Claw."

The air shifted, and you felt a twinge of unease crawl up your spine. You opened your mouth to protest, to stop whatever was about to unfold, but before you could utter a word, a soft rustle caught your ear.

From the shadowy rooftop above, Moze crouched, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene. His voice, barely a whisper, carried through the night air. "Jiaoqiu... I've found you."

"Little Maggot, Are you sucking off to find peace in this little foxian? You always suck off something from everyone." He said...

Your breath caught in your throat as the rage began to bubble to the surface. Hoolay's laughter echoed through the room like nails on glass, scraping against every nerve. Your heart pounded, hands trembling, blood dripping from the glass shards embedded in your skin. Every fiber of your being wanted to shut him up, to tear down his arrogance. The mocking gleam in his eyes was unbearable.

"Maggot, am I?" you spat, voice shaking with fury. Your words dripped with venom, eyes burning as they locked onto Hoolay's sneering face. "Then, Just like a maggot, I'll *suck* and *slurp* up all your wounds—until there's nothing left. Going on until you're *dry*, until every ounce of blood in your veins is gone. I'll devour every last shred of you, piece by piece!"

Jiaoqiu, eyes wide with both shock and a flicker of dread, watched as your voice twisted into a snarl. Even he hadn't seen this side of you before, the raw hatred bubbling over into every word. But it was Hoolay's reaction you focused on, the slight twitch of amusement still plastered on his face.

Hoolay chuckled lowly, the sound making your blood boil. "Oh? Is that how you plan to finish me off? By sucking me dry like the parasite you've become?"

You took a step forward, unblinking, pain no longer even a distant thought. Your vision narrowed, focusing solely on him. "You'll die so slowly, Hoolay," you hissed, voice shaking with a barely contained storm of rage. "So painfully, that you'll *beg* for the centuries of torment you've already lived through. You'll *wish* you never met me, because when I'm done with you, there won't even be enough left to recognize as human—or whatever you think you are."

Hoolay's smile faltered ever so slightly. For the first time, his eyes narrowed, lips pulling into something less amused and more cautious. He seemed to be weighing your words now, sensing the sheer madness boiling just under your skin.

And that's when you knew you had him.

"You think you're untouchable? That your power makes you invincible?" Your voice rose, anger lacing each word with deadly intent. "I'll drag you into the dirt where you belong. I'll make your heart stop and start again, over and over, so you feel the edge of death—*just* long enough to know what it's like to be helpless. Just long enough to remember what fear *really* feels like."

Jiaoqiu, breathing shallow, took a hesitant step toward you, unsure whether to intervene or let you continue. Moze's presence from the rooftop, unseen to the others, shifted slightly, eyes sharp as he watched your confrontation unfold.

"You... you're strange," Hoolay finally said, his grin returning but with a hint of unease. "To lose your fear of torture so easily... it's almost amusing. But," his gaze flicked toward Jiaoqiu, lingering for a moment before falling back to you, "I see your weakness."

Jiaoqiu's eyes widened as Hoolay's words hit him like a dagger to the chest. You clenched your fists tighter, muscles coiled in preparation, but Hoolay merely laughed.

"Oh yes, you can scream and rage all you want, but your weakness is clear as day." His gaze flicked back to Jiaoqiu, a cruel smirk forming on his lips. "You can pretend to be strong, but when it comes to him..."

"Shut. Up!" you roared, your voice cracking with intensity as you took another step toward Hoolay, teeth gritted.

Hoolay's laughter only grew, the sound grating against your nerves like sandpaper. "Ah, there it is. Your fear, your rage—it's all tied to him, isn't it? Your precious healer. Without him, you're nothing."

Your breathing grew ragged, chest rising and falling with each sharp intake of breath. Every part of you wanted to lash out, to strike Hoolay down in that very moment—but you hesitated. Because as much as you hated to admit it, there was a grain of truth in his words.

He saw the hesitation flicker across your face, and his grin widened. "See? You're just as weak as I thought."

Trembling with barely-contained fury, you forced yourself to remain still, eyes locked on Hoolay's with a hatred that felt like it could burn the world to ash.

"Mark my words," you growled through clenched teeth. "You'll die wishing you never crossed me. You'll regret every second you spent thinking you had the upper hand. When I'm done with you, there won't be a single piece of you left for the wolves to scavenge."

And for the first time in that endless, twisted conversation, Hoolay's laughter died in his throat.

[cantsaythetword]

I think I've just accepted 2024 is gonna be kinda shit lmao

[dulcewrites]

I think the most ironic thing about how Alicent’s motherhood gets used against her is that the logic that everything wrong with the targtowers is somehow her fault, completely goes out of the window when people talk about Rhaenyra’s parenting. Everything they do is a reflection of how terrible, awful, and disgusting Alicent is as a mother. But jace and luke’s behavior/actions somehow aren’t reflections of the pitfalls Rhaenyra has as a mother.

Aegon being a rapist is just Alicent fault. Aemond’s anger and resentment is just Alicent’s fault (some people even blame Alicent for him losing his eye yes I’ve seen it). Helaena’s adversion to touch (despite the fact it’s clear phia made an acting choice to play Helaena as neurodivergent plus we literally get scenes of Helaena letting Alicent touch her) is all Alicent’s fault. The rotting, neglectful rapist they all have for a father has absolutely nothing to do with that. And then the goalpost moving. If Alicent doesn’t admonish and totally hate Aegon for being said rapist, she’s a rape apologist who doesn’t want any woman to have rights (a crazy thing to say about a literal victim of rape herself btw). But if she slaps him, she’s an abusive cunt.

But jace and luke, more specifically luke, having no regard nor remorse for bullying then disabling someone is *check notes* seen as cute and normal??? It is apparently not Rhaenyra using the same tactics her father did. So much guilt about the position you have put your children in that in response you will just let them do whatever. This sort of perpetual cycle of gaslighting and withholding information being painted noble or nurturing.

Then when you bring up that argument of how Rhaenyra puts her kids in danger just by having them (much like how people say the same about Alicent despite that not even being her choice), you get hit back with ‘so you wanted her rape her gay husband’ which is like ??? how did you get there lmao. It’s wild, but completely on brand for a fandom that picks and chooses based on who they like, that people can emphathize with the position Rhaenyra was put in because of her gender. But the child bride who literally just has her children to cling to is the worst mother to ever mother.

The sooner people realize that Alicent and Rhaenyra are working up the same rigid rules and crushing pathology of patriarchy, the better off we will all be. The only difference is the way they push back against those structures. Someone like Rhaenyra, a dragon riding princess, can maneuver very differently compared to someone like Alicent. Both are going to fuck up and make decisions that put people in danger/hurt people’s feelings bc they are playing a game that has been rigged for them to lose. So why are the blonde ones allowed more grace than everyone else 🫤

[flamboyant-king]

Hiii. This is a dumb thing to say, but thank you for getting a pin press. You helped me realize that I can also get one and finally make old concepts a real thing now! Also Merry Christmas

You're welcome! And Merry Christmas! 🎅

Just a couple days ago the button maker I got went on sale for $68.99 on their website with 500 pieces. And boy was it tempting. Idk if it's still there but treat yaself if it is hehoo!

[princesscedar]

Trying to tell mom "hey maybe don't call j ewish people rats even unintentionally" event leaves 10 dead thousands injured

[lilgynt]

got un depressed enough to take the dog on a walk immediately got re depressed and had to lay down after letting mom know she didn’t have to walk her tonight

[menalez]

Offline. So many older lesbian spaces were "underground". Lots of the magazines and art and books are still circulating and many of those women are still around. The biggest difference between then and now is that our public sphere is the internet. Entire countries can be omitted. Censorship, down to making a single word illegal, can be carried out with 100% effectiveness, because we do not speak with our mouths but with a "Post" button. It is all so moderated. I find it comparable to the older division of women through houses. We are all in separate boxes thinking "where are the other ones like me?" but we cannot see each other. They still exist. The answer is to leave this false world and seek them out in real life. How to do that requires creativity and resourcefulness. Stickers with a slogan you stand by signed with a secure email address may attract some. Others may be at protests, or in sports. Building your community means risk, work, and time.

unfortunately im talking about a combination of online and offline 🥲 when in the UK, i did make a friend group of like-minded lesbians and it was so great. we’d occasionally go to lesbian events and such but very often it was not lesbian-exclusive and filled with gender-y stuff which is more or less inescapable. we also went to the lesbian strength march and we met women from get the l out back then, before they were as big as they are now. that memory isnt as fond anymore bc it turns out get the l out is a polilez organisation. then in germany, my gf and i went to some radfem events (i could not find a single lesbian event anywhere. there are lesbian organisations but we’ll get to that in a bit) and they were talking about being lesbians. turns out, they’re mainly political lesbians. it makes no sense bc they preach “lesbians don’t like dick!” “lesbians can’t be attracted to men!!” but then actually if u say that and mean it they argue that every woman can be a lesbian. the mainstream lgbt community & lesbian community isnt much better, you’ll find normie lesbians here and there but you’ll also be among many non-lesbians and political lesbians. ive met many lesbians but found no lesbian community. and most lesbians are also pretty into the genderist stuff. so it’s like no matter where i look and go, there isn’t really a place for lesbians to just be among other lesbians. this is not even touching on bahrain where the community is extremely underground, 0 online presence, and u basically find each other through ladies nights or female-only events (when all the bahraini lesbians decide to go out at once) or word of mouth but then when u get to know a lot of them, most have such intense self-hatred that u just end up feeling insecure about being a lesbian as well. or they’re extremely closeted and u have to sneak around. or they’re also very gender-y and can’t talk about anything else.

[eggthew]

mum and dad are already soooo convinced I'm a boy despite me explaining I'm not and the concept of using pronouns that dont "match" your gender many times before. I can't wait to say I've chosen edgar as a name and see them freak out <- is not looking forward to it

[fazcinatingblog]

Imagine if out of all the mistakes I've made, the things Sophia thinks I'm doing wrong, the one thing that gets me fired is that I don't agree to the boss smoking in the office.

[first-pass]

I know he was sedated, but to me he died right then. Because that's not what he looks like when he's asleep.

[thelittlestspider]

me: y'know sometimes i just wanna be let loose in a room with a baseball bat and scream and destroy everything to work my anger out.

mom: you have anger issues. you need to calm down. staying mad is just going to make you sick and raise your blood pressure.

me: yeah well, sometimes repressing anger makes you just as sick.

mom: 🙂

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[kissitbttr]

miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude

-

“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”

miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.

does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.

“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.

the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,

he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,

God, you’re such a perfection.

“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”

Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.

“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,

rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,

“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”

he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips

you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.

“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,

“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,

your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”

he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.

his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”

“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,

giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,

Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”

“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”

he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”

“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.

“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.

turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”

his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,

“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing

and they say romance is dead.

-

cake testing with miggy!

[bunnis-monsters]

Ovulating girlfriend who is too shy to ask her towering demon boyfriend to breed her. He can smell and see her desperateness, so he teases her to try to coax out the begging but she is just too flustered. The way she smells and her flustered form almost drives him to madness, so he takes matters into his own hands...

NSFW

He knew with just a whiff that you were ovulating and needy, and without much ado he was between your thighs, his thumb pressing against the large wet spot in your panties and rubbing against your clit.

“Mmm, someone’s made a mess. You need me, baby?”

Your face felt hot, and you turned your head away, refusing to look at him. This only excites him more, and he began to circle his thumb around your clit, applying more pressure.

“C’mon, we both know you’re desperate to be bred. Can’t you just say it, sweet thing?”

The scent of your body being so fertile and ready to breed was making him a bit light headed, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to tease you for much longer before he snapped and mounted you himself.

“P-please…”

Your eyes were full of needy tears, your hips bucking lightly as you struggled to keep your movements under control. Your body was screaming at you to let him pump you full of his seed, to give you a baby…

“Please what, darling?”

The desperation in your eyes and the needy tears falling down your cheeks nearly moved him, but he stayed quiet, staring down at you.

“Please… I need you… w-wanna have your baby!”

With that he growled, pinning you roughly as his cock pressed against your tight, soaked cunt.

“Shh, you’ll get your baby. I won’t stop until you’re so full of my cum you can’t even think.”

His cock pushed into you, and he but down on your shoulder as he fucked you like a wild animal.

He couldn’t hold back, not when you smelled like a bitch in heat.

Your pussy clenched deliciously around him, and you were able to cum almost instantly. He had teased and riled you up, edging you, all now you were bursting.

He filled your belly with his cum, only stopping when your fat tummy bulged with his seed.

Tomorrow, he’d breed you again until you were no longer ovulating.

He’d be getting you pregnant, that’s for sure.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

[the-melancholic-human]

The infamous, long awaited, not once, but twice deleted… simon riley x single mom reader fic is finally here:

Simon riley can’t cook for the life of him. Every time he’s back home from deployment, he’ll just survive on instant noodles and canned beer for maybe a week and then he goes back to base and gladly munches on the prepackaged food they throw at him.

Truth is, it has always been like this, and he’s never seen anything wrong with it.

Until price told him that the next op will be in 3 months and this grown ass man shivered just thinking about eating shitty frozen food for 90 days straight.

He begged price, said he’d stay and clean up the base for free, anything! He’d do anything to stay! And price told him to ‘piss off for 12 weeks before he went insane’

Cut to simon, standing in the frozen goods isle, letting out a groan as he rubbed the bridge of his crooked nose. And he angrily stomped towards the frozen bags on the shelves and dropped everything in sight into his cart, trying so hard not to puke at the mere thought of eating all of that junk. The thing is, he was so mad at that moment that if some poor soul approached him asking where the milk was, they’d get a box of frozen turkey legs shoved down their throat.

And you know, someone did approach him. And no, they got to live.

It was a tiny toddler, maybe around 5 or 6, wearing a purple tutu skirt, and she was holding a dino plushie to her chest, looking straight up at simon.

Picture this, a grown 6’2 man, muscular with tats and everything, looking down at a 5 year old girl with messy hair and yellow rain boots. They both looked so serious, none of them broke the eye contact, staring at each other with puzzled expressions.

Simon was about to continue shopping when he saw a woman running towards them, she dropped down to the ground, distressed and scared, tightly hugging the toddler. She whispered to the kid ‘why did you leave me, never do that to me ever again, mom was so scared’

And you know, he could’ve just walked away at that point. Of course, It was a heartwarming scene to behold, a mother finding their lost child, but god, simon couldn’t stop staring at the woman kneeling on the dirty in front of him, the way her eyes were glossy with tears, her cheeks slightly red from the tear stains and she was beautiful. Beautiful.

It had been years, if not decades, since the last that simon thought a human being was beautiful. He wasn’t used to the butterflies that were flying in his stomach, and he wasn’t sure how to react. So he sat down, next to her.

“Hey… t’s okay, don’t worry luv, you found her, alright?”

“I- she was holding my hand one second… and the next i couldn’t find her! I got so… scared, and she wasn’t anywhere, and i thought- i thought”

Simon wasn’t one for holding hands.

But he held her hand. He put his calloused pale hand over hers, and he couldn’t help but to let out a shaky sigh at the feeling. He was dizzy, like he had been drinking bottles of cheap booze, but he didn’t feel sick like the way the cheap booze made him feel, he felt warm.

And with that, the woman looked up at him,

“Thank you? For, for-“

“I didn’ find her luv, you did, but y’welcome anyway”

He laughed out, trying to act like there weren’t fireworks exploding in his head just by looking at her eyes.

But she chuckled, she chuckled at him!

“Sorry i couldn’t help but notice… is that like 20-ish pizzas you’ve got?”

And she pointed at his cart, which had a huge pile of frozen pizzas stacked on top of each other. She giggled.

He cursed under his breath,

“Yea, i- long story, i… can’t cook?”

“Can’t cook? Cook food?”

He put his hand on his neck, rubbing the aching muscle, as he let out another sigh shaking his head.

“That… can’t be good for you, blood pressure is the silent killer after all”

“I know, i know, i-“

“I could… teach you how to cook?”