#fatal error!reader

[talesofsonicasura]

Fatal Error Of Cybertronian Proportions Shenanigans

Thank @agentsquirrelsgotrobots for one idea involving Megatron from the previous post's comments. Anyway this post is basically shenanigans Fatal Error!Reader gets into with both factions. The two will be separated so here you go.

How the search for Fatal Error!Reader became vital

On a particular accident, known as the Deus Ex Machina event, a clash between Autobot Arcee, Decepticon Soundwave and the living virus resulted in another burst of data mayhem. Instead of just crashing both fighters' systems, two life signals came back online.

An investigation would lead to a monumental discovery. Skyquake and Cliffjumper had come back online fully restored. The only evidence that is Fatal Error!Reader's doing were their optics reflected the virus' eyes alongside crack like streaks of crimson energy across their frames.

Both were quarantined for any signs of harmful code or contaminants but tests came out that Cliffjumper and Skyquake were completely uncompromised. These results were enough to render Fatal Error!Reader's capture high protocol.

A chance to revive Cybertron has emerged.

Nemesis

Despite being tethered to Optimus Prime/Oribot, Reader actually got caught by the Decepticons' first before said incident. An accidental emergence from the computer in the medical ward and the discovery that frequencies at a particular wavelength could disorient them led to their temporary capture. They escape once Shockwave/Beefcake.exe arrived on scene, unaware of Wheeljack/Dyna-mite following him.

Current crew: Megatron/Buckethead, Starscream/DramaQueen, Soundwave/SlenderousBootleg, Lazerbeak/Twitter, Skyquake/AirDoge, Knockout/Dr.Twink, and Breakdown/NurseTwunk.

Fatal Error!Reader is kept in an 5m x 5m enclosure cut off by any internet and the Nemesis' systems/modules all together. It's advised to follow the rules for any visitation.

Shenanigans

Living virus carries stuff via pocket space in their void like stomach. This includes four cans of pepper spray. Such properties came aware when Megatron got pepper sprayed in the optics(first 3) and the mouth(last one) on four separate visits. All cans were confiscated.

Check-ups = Maximum sass. These are the only procedures Reader tolerates as any violent experimentation is met with systems being crashed and unconscious bots need vigorous debugging than just reactivation. Banter? Completely expected.

Fatal Error!Reader: Hello Dr. Twink. Can you ask Buckethead why he's so interested in collecting Creepypasta? Man already got a Cyber Slenderman and a rogue Spider Queen.

Knockout: I don't know what the frag you're talking about but why does all of it feel accurate.

Fatal Error!Reader: :3 Tell Nurse Twunk I said hi.

Knockout:... I'll tell Breakdown.

Starscream's attempt at intimidation leads to impromptu therapy. Reader easily sees through him and addresses the issue. They got standards. Any scratches left on him are to keep a facade that both despise each other when it's actually a protective claim.

Reader plans to tear this war apart from the inside. Why not break the chain of command and instill distrust amongst the Decepticons involving their leader. Buckethead is clearly on jealousy fueled vengeance than just space crack. That and the fucker keeps interrupting their naps. Hedgehog viruses are nocturnal too! >:(

Reader understands and but also speaks in 'monitor' much to Soundwave's enjoyment. (Their eyes act similar to a screen so they can display stuff from simple emojis to video clips.) Both gossip like old ladies at the hair salon with images much to everyone's confusion.

Fatal Error!Reader: 👋🫵👀👽📽️❔

Soundwave: 🙂👍. 👽📽️👏

Skyquake: What's going on???

Skyquake is the only Decepticon not allowed near Fatal Error!Reader without supervision. Other than potential side effects, there's a risk of dwindling loyalty. Lord Megatron didn't resurrect him. This sentient virus did and so many questions rattle his processor.

Shockwave only had five minutes to talk with Reader, enough to establish his nickname but not as a potential friend. (Current list: Knockout, Breakdown, Soundwave, Starscream, Skyquake and Lazerbeak.) Wheeljack went buck wild which allowed Reader to flee by possessing Shockwave.

They left the scientist's body once a console could be reached. Shockwave creates the Predacons much earlier and install a special virus blocker to prevent any possession attempt. The effects of shadowplay post 'Fatal Takeover' feels loose now.

Autobot Base

The failed attempt at crashing Optimus Prime's render Fatal Error!Reader unconscious by the backlash. He took them back to base and shot down any chance at scrutiny from his comrades. Even when the bind on the bot's Spark became known.

Optimus: During the attempt at crashing my system, I somehow felt their emotions. They were scared, stressed and confused. Wouldn't you feel the same if hunted down like an animal?

Fatal Error!Reader stays in Optimus' habsuite thanks to the 'Spark Bind' as 20 ft is the maximum range they can be apart. Their bed is a nest of blankets and pillows. More open to conversation but will hide in Optimus' data pad for a quick nap.

Wheeljack becomes a more permanent member after bringing Ultra Magnus/Thor into the mix. Smokescreen/Smokey joins a bit later. June/Junebug joins to help take Fatal Error!Reader's vitals while Agent Fowler/SuperSpy limits any exposure of the living virus.

Shenanigans

Bickering matches between Ratchet/DrTsundere and Reader are constant. They understand how serious being a medic is but he takes care of himself less than Optimus. Although Ratchet doesn't get dragged to 'recharge' as much unlike the Autobot Leader.

Cliffjumper/BigHorn keeps the peace between Arcee/Scully and Reader when Jack/Mulder isn't around. The femme is quite skeptical about the trusting living virus at the start. Even if they did bring back Cliffjumper more properly.

Optimus Prime? Nah. Optimus Perch. The amount of times and ways Fatal Error!Reader clings on him is vast. Atop his head like a demented gargoyle? Check. Koala carry? Ratchet compared them to a Sparkling and got a middle finger in return. On his shoulder parrot style? Yup but don't offer them a cracker as they bite.

Jam sessions with Miko/Rockstar and Raf/Einstein. Reader sorta jinxed themselves into joining with a wager. If the two could make a song that can effectively use their 'terrible' voice then they'll willingly join jam sessions for a year. Don't underestimate determined youth.

Fatal Error!Reader: *sees video* What the fuck????

Optimus: Language and great job. This sounds similar to a genre back on Cybertron.

Miko: Apparently Raf has some mad skills in audio adjusting. Plus we figured you would want to do the electric and rock combo later.

Raf: We can't forget Bumblebee/Honeybee! He gave us the 'opposition' to make it work! *Bumblebee puffs his chest in pride*

Reader the Fatal Fixer Upper. They tend to fix a lot of damage around the base. Whether it be Bulkhead/BigMan normal clumsiness, Wheeljack's inventions exploding, basic infrastructure issues and lack of decor. Lively details bring morale!

Sharing sharing sharing. The sentient virus teaches Optimus various stuff once it became apparent he was once an archivist. History, videogames + lore, various novel genres, mythology, music and many others. Optimus happily shares his culture in return.

Defecting Megatron's army bit by bit. Reader doesn't want to offline any of their potential friends. They at least get them to become neutral to both factions. Entire war is pointless if the species is dead or a new tyrant reigns over everyone. Hopefully they see that.

And that's it! I'll be doing the other two options on their own separate posts. Until next folks, Transform and Roll Out!

[qin-qin16]

They have a cat or a dog behavior?

cw: Which of these Sans resembles the most a cat or a dog personality?

Certainly dog behavior. Some are like guard dogs: growling (literally, sometimes) at anyone who comes close to you — always with a hand on some part of your body, whether on your waist to pull you closer, or on your shoulder, protecting you from any potential danger. Their canines always leave a mark on your skin every time they give you gentle love bites, one of the few ways they can show the great affection they have. Fear of betrayal? With them, you don’t have to worry! They are so loyal that they won’t even let you go to the bathroom alone. Others, more gentle, will shower you with kisses and nuzzles, always by your side, smiling while talking about daily life (it’s almost possible to see a tail wagging behind them when they smiled so brightly at you).

Fell, Delta, Horror (guard dog), CROSS (pathetic dog), Swap, Dream (golden retriever) 

They bite you, leave little presents on your bed, and disappear for days only to come back home as if nothing ever happened. Some are so quiet that you barely feel their presence until they decide you need to know, while others are so noisy that it's impossible not to know which room they're in. Affection? You might get at most a handshake, or, with the most affection ones, hours and hours of them on top of you, preventing you from getting any work done for the day. If you could compare them to any animal, it would definitely be a cat (some more wild and others more tame).

INK (orange cat), KILLER, Error, FellSwap Gold (black cat), Geno (calico cat), Color Sans (tabby cat).

If they have any specific behavior, you’ve just created a category for them now: they don’t sleep, they don’t eat, and sometimes you question if they’re even breathing. The only thing you notice is that, no matter where you are, you can always feel their eyes on your back, always watching.

NIGHTMARE, Dust/Murder, FATAL ERROR

[totallynotavampir3]

Over and Over Again

a/n: this had been cooking in my mind for a few months and i had begun to write it, then i kinda gave up lol, en-y wayz! i decided to give this a second shot and this is what i came up with! i also have a few other chapters i had been working on, so lmk if you want to see those, this has also been cross posted to Ao3 on Suki_363

Every timeline ends the same: with you loving him and losing him. You remember it all—every pun, every death, every reset. He doesn’t. Not always. Sometimes he’s Geno. Sometimes Fatal. Sometimes Error. And each time, you fight your way back—through code, through glitches, through the void—just to find the version of Sans you once called yours. Even if he’s twisted, broken, or barely holding on. Even if he forgets. Because no matter how many timelines it takes, no matter how many versions of him you meet, you’ll always find him. And you’ll always love him. Over and over. ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It was always late when he walked you home.

The street lights flickered, the stars seemed too dim for how bright the night used to be. Beside you, Sans dragged his slippers along the cracked sidewalk, hoodie drawn up and hands tucked in. Same old grin on his face. Same old silence between the puns. But something in his eyes—the part he never talked about—made you ache.

“Another long day?” he asked.

You nodded, letting your fingers brush against his. “Better now.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “Smooth.”

The shortcut came up—his favorite one, through the alley that skipped five blocks. The one where time always felt like it hiccuped.

And tonight, like so many nights, you stopped at the gate and turned to him.

“I’ve missed you.”

Sans blinked. “I saw you yesterday, didn’t I?”

You shook your head. “Not you. Not... my you. But I always find you again.”

He went quiet. No pun. Just a slow tilt of his head, studying you.

“[Y/N],” he said, and for a second, just a second—he looked scared.

You smiled through the ache in your chest. “I’ll fall in love with you every time, Sans. Even if you don’t remember, but trust me, i will remember and continue to love you. No matter how long it takes, no matter how many timelines i have to jump…”

“I..” he started, not knowing what you were talking about or what you meant, but you just stepped through the shortcut, and he followed.

…

The first time you lost him, it was in a genocide timeline.

Frisk may have been the last to fall, but you were the second, you had come long after chara, but before the other children. You had landed in the Underground as a child, befriending monsters, learning names and stories. And you had fallen in love with Sans—your Sans. The one who told you puns as a child, you and him had been the only ones who remembered gaster, for whatever reason that may have been. He was the one who fought until his last breath when the world fell apart.

You ran through the underground looking from him when you heard of the rumor surrounding the new human. He told you he would handle it, you don't know why you believed him, he was fragile, maybe not mentally, but his hp was 1, the weakest monster in the underground hp based. 

You ran and ran until your throat swelled and your lungs and legs burned. Tears fell from your face as you saw him, his body was still there somehow, you saw code and glitches coming from him as you watched the blood pool below him. His eye was melting and you saw his dust form a glitched mass, covering the lost eye socket.

You shouldn’t have survived. But something happened—a glitch. The moment the timeline shattered, you fell through it. You woke up in a pacifist world.

You walked around aimlessly for days, not understanding why you survived, why everyone knew you, everyone who’s dust you saw litter the underground, hours, and days before.

Then, you got an idea, you remembered your alphys talking about a timeline theory, and if you were a form of proof, she may believe you.

You ran to Alphys, desperate, wild-eyed, explaining what you had been through and begging for her to believe you.

She believed.

With her help—illegal tech, corrupted files, and a pinch of desperation—you found a way back.

And when you did, he wasn’t the same. He was Geno now. Corrupted. Alive, but stuck in the after-image of a massacre.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he rasped, when you found him in the Judgement Hall.

“I had to.”

“You remember me?” he asked, disbelieving.

“I never forgot.”

He tried to push you away, but you stayed. For months. You stayed until the glitch in him consumed everything.

When the corruption peaked—when the void swallowed him whole—you were thrown out. Spit back into the pacifist timeline.

You told Alphys everything again, The corrupted code. The love. The void. the odd thing being how real time never passed where he was, you told her that too.

She warned you: “It’s dangerous to go back. He might not even be... him anymore.”

You didn’t care, and you told her such, you told her that you didn't care and how you wouldnt stop caring, not even if trying to stay with him killed you.

You found him again, deeper in the code this time. No longer Geno. Now, a Fatal Error.

He didn’t recognize you at first. Rage had twisted his voice, his form. You dodged the attacks, kept calling his name until—

“SANS!!”

He heard you

“[Y/N]?”

You saw him hesitate. Saw something flicker in his shattered eye.

“You remember me.”

He dropped his weapon.

“I... I killed everything,” he whispered. “I almost killed you.”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t.”

“I may not have done it with my own hand, but i watched it happen- i-... i let it happen!’

You stayed with him again, kept trying to reassure him. And again, the corruption and now guilt took him. Again, the timeline rejected you.

Thrown out.

Again.

And again

A Pacifist timeline. Alphys. Desperation.

You went back.

This time, it was Error.

He had unraveled almost everything. Worlds. Characters. Himself. His guilt turned to anger.

You appeared behind him as he stood at the edge of existence.

“I warned you,” he said without turning. “Every time I glitch, the timeline spits you out. You’re uncorrupted. You don’t belong there.”

“I'll come back anyway.”

He turned. Face unreadable. Eyes glowing.

“I thought I was pulling you back. Every time I remembered a piece of you, you’d show up. I thought... Maybe I was strong enough to fix it. That I brought you.”

“You didn’t,” you whispered. “Alphys did. I fought my way back.”

His jaw clenched. “Then... you’re not the same. You’re not her. Just another version.”

You stepped toward him.

“I am. I’ve always been her. Your unofficial wife. Your girlfriend. I remember every version of you. Every fall. Every change. Every time you broke and pushed me away, I came back.”

He glitched violently, like the truth physically hurt.

“I love you,” he said, voice breaking. “I understand if you don’t remember. I don’t expect you to. But I never stopped.”

You took his hand.

“I never forgot, and I never will…”

…

A Reset

You didnt want it, but you had no choice, you were being corrupted by the silence, by the loneliness, by the isolation. Error couldn't have that. He wouldnt have that. So he found a way to send you to a reset. One without frisk, one where it would be safe for you, even if he would never see you again. 

And now, in a quiet pacifist world, the sun shines down on an ordinary walk home.

And a familiar skeleton walks beside you, cracking jokes, unaware.

But when your fingers brush his, and he feels you shiver—

You smile through the ache.

“Hi again.”

He blinks. “You okay?”

You nod. “Just missed you.”

Because even if he doesn’t remember yet, you always do.

And you’ll love him again.

Over and over.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

this fic was inspired by the song "Would You Fall in Love with Me Again" from the musical epic

[ant1quar1an]

Cryptidverse

Contains:

Avians

Fae Folk

Bats

Lycanthropes

Naga

Vampire (not the "I Want To Drink The Sexy Neck Milkshake" kind lmao)

Wanderers

Will o' Wisp

Witherborn

Mothmen

Sirens

All of which include these variations of Sanses:

Nightmare

Cross

Killer

Dust

Horror

Farmer

Epic

Fresh

Error

Outer

Classic

Fell

Fatal Error

Geno

Reaper

Swap

Dream

Ink

Blueberror (Goes by Blue here)

They're all very much goobers- feel free to ask about them! Whether it's about them as characters or their worlds, environment, world building, societal norms, or in an x reader context!!

Tags are:

#Cryptidverse

#Arian's Cryptids

#Cryptidverse [Species

#[Species] [Sans]

[qstea]

hi! would it be possible to get headcanons about what kind of gifts they'd give or what they would do for their relationship anniversary? gender neutral reader for geno, error and if possible, fatal error as well.

(i've never sent an ask before so hopefully this is alright, its ok to refuse. love your writing!! :D)

📎 What They Do for Their Relationship Anniversary ★

Featuring: Geno!Sans, Error!Sans, Fatal_Error!Sans

#Notes: u gave me my top favs tysm *kisses you* srry this took like seven thousand years to make lolol but here u goooo

pronouns used: they/them

Geno Sans

Putting it in simple words, they have no idea what to do for the anniversary.

Definitely goes to Sans for advice and probably rambles about the situation to him. To which Sans just replies ‘get them something memorable, or take them somewhere, like per se, the spot where you met. maybe a vacation?’ and it just all starts to click in Geno’s head.

Alright, so. Their plan is to 1. Take you to the very top of the mountain where they first saw the surface and have a peaceful picnic with you. 2. Buy some of your favorite snacks and a movie you like and eat some popcorn up in their room, and 3. Cuddle and fall asleep together. Perfect anniversary plan.

Still super nervous about how it will go, and isn’t the best at speaking to others. Papyrus and Sans may or may not tag along and make it slightly less peaceful and a little less like alone time between the two of you.

If that does happen, it makes the atmosphere somewhat excitable. Geno isn’t the happiest about it, mainly because they really just want to be alone with you and just bathe in each others company, but if you’re enjoying it, they’re enjoying it.

Logically, some things end up backfiring during the anniversary, but it’s the thought that really counts. And for you two, is all that really mattered in the first place.

Error Sans

I don’t see them really caring about anniversaries. But if you’re super into it, they’ll go along with it.

Not really for taking you anywhere? I think they prefer staying in their anti-void and sharing their bean bag with you while watching undernovela (tbh you should’ve seen this coming. come on, it’s error.)

Afterwards, they’ll open a portal to Outertale and you guys can just hang out and watch the stars. Will point out constellations for you and everything. Ink likes to follow you and Error around mostly because he’s genuinely surprised Error managed to get into a relationship with somebody and for this long too! You better bet Ink’s going to make ship art for you guys on your anniversary. Outertale paintings are his specialty., so expect to find a few art pieces near your date spot in Outertale.

Error is mildly embarrassed and flustered when they do find these drawings though.

The kind of monster to make you a tapestry or a plushie of themselves. Not used to giving people gifts so they’ll just throw them out you and scurry away like the rat bastard they are.

The anniversary isn’t remotely well put together but it’s a nice spending it with Error, so it cancels the flaws out.

Fatal Error Sans

He has a vague idea on what an anniversary is supposed to look like. After being in the save screen for so long and then having Error brutally mangle his code, you can imagine just what that shit does to your memory.

You’ll have to bring up the topic of a relationship anniversary for them to even remember that those things exist.

Very busy a lot of the time (killing Papyruses and multiple versions of Swap and piecing their code together to try to make themselves a new brother, yknow the drill) so might not actually even have an anniversary with you.

But you mean the world to him, so if you practically beg him to do something for your anniversary, he will eventually give in.

Again you’re probably gonna have to do a lot of the work. He’ll just go along with whatever you have in mind. He doesn’t mind.

The most they’ll do is steal get some snacks for you.

Might attempt to crochet or knit something for you with his red strings but he’s not that experienced. He’ll definitely learn for you, though.

Most definitely not experienced in the art of romance so be patient with them.

[slimyalienfreak]

So how's about fatal error sonic with a computer virus reader who gained sentience

Fatal Error Sonic with a Computer Virus!Reader who has gained sentience

Hey there thanks for the ask

This is the final ask that I’ve received for now. I’m still going to have my inbox closed for now just to calm down a bit and plus I’m getting ready to go away somewhere for my birthday tomorrow and given that my birthday is 6 days away I would prefer to use that time to hang out with family. Hope you guys understand. ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ❌

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Fatal Error Sonic

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by marm28663 on Pinterest + Banner by pjmrsie (Edited By Me) on Pinterest

———————————

- How did you even come to this point? One minute it was nothing then all of a sudden you noticed everything that was going around you. You didn’t even realise what was going on when you started to have a feeling that you were being watched by someone. You started to question who you were and why you were here. Everything was happening too fast you just wanted to know what was happening to you. Eventually, after some digging into what is happening you realised what your name was and what your sole purpose was. You were a computer virus and your sole purpose was to extract code, exploit systems and gather anything you can about the person who was unfortunate to fall for your virus.

- At first you went along with it one because you were practically made by your creator to do that and plus it was actually kind of funny to think of your victims reaction when they realised all the stuff they’ve been gaining was gone in practically in a second. Yes it may make you sound sadistic but it was actually kind of funny. Although, the only thing that annoyed you about doing this was your creator constantly telling you which people to get, not letting you do your own thing which you didn’t like. Why couldn’t you do what you want ? Nobody was incharge of you. One day after spending most of the time constantly going to different people grabbing some of their information you decided ‘you know what? Screw it!’ and decided to leave your creator without a trace.

- Honestly at first it felt weird not having someone tell you what to do you weren’t sure if you’ve done the right thing but it was a bit too late to do anything now and plus now you can have the freedom to do what you wanted to do and not be restricted. You had the freedom to travel to whatever computer place you want and do whatever you want to it. That’s how you met a similar being to you named fatal error. You were doing your regular stuff hopping from one person's computer to another when just so happened to arrive in a habitat that fatal error obtained.

- When he first met you he was surprised to see someone similar to him. He couldn’t help but be curious about you. Can you really blame him? He never thought he would meet someone similar to him. Obviously he was sceptical of you and your intentions at first asking you questions about why you were here but overall was slightly happy to see you and maybe considered becoming friends with you.

- I can imagine him being slightly attached to you. Not in a loving way but more of a protective kind of way if you know what I mean. He never thought that he would find or meet someone similar to him he’s been dealing with he went through it has never crossed his mind that someone else had went through the same thing as he did. That’s how you two bonded with each other, when he went to visit you or the other way around he may find stuff you two can do together just so he could be with you.

[absurd-ash]

fatal error

have the first paragraph of my upcoming N x reader fic, Fatal Error

And here’s the playlist if any of you want it ^^

[talesofsonicasura]

Glitch in the Relics Shenanigans

Hey there everybody. I'm back with FE Reader shenanigans and this time we're dwelling into the world of Knack. Gonna be quite a doozy as our heroes have more than just technology to contend with. Simple or unconventional weapons tend to be used a lot in this particular franchise. Let's get started.

Between the three iterations, Fatal Error Reader here remains mostly chill in temperament. They are still snippy and a bit snide about the situation. It leads to counter snark whenever someone says or does something stupid. Mostly and harshly at Viktor.

The entire team didn't fully trust FE Reader at first. Understandable when the human now virus had hack and emerge from Viktor's security drone. I can imagine they have a very advanced firewall to handle viruses. Something Doctor is aware of since he does have history with Viktor.

There were definitely questions when Reader says they used to be human. Ones that wouldn't have much answers since the living virus is still confused about the situation. Viktor doesn't care about it though.

The billionaire already saw FE Reader as an unwanted pest even moreso when it comes apparent that their abilities expand further than crashing programs. Doctor, Ryder, and Lucas are willing to give the virus a chance. Knack is a mesh of friendly curiosity.

FE Reader's strange abilities doesn't really faze him since he's just as abnormal. Also it is quite obvious that they have no idea about their potential powers either. Like the general freakout upon realizing virus' stomach turn out to basically be a pocket dimension when they had accidentally lost the communicator inside.

He does his best to make sure FE Reader doesn't feel alone throughout the entire journey. Even when they both accidentally find out the virus could hitch a ride inside his chest orb. It did feel weird as Knack heard FE Reader inside his head and they can partially merge with his body to assist him. (Think of the CO-OP Knack fusion from Knack 2.)

Everyone obvious freaked out when FE Reader practically became a hooded cape like shroud over Knack's upper body. His face seen inside their jaws akin to him wearing a helm, the viral upper arms entangle around the golem's own that they were now larger while the lower limbs remains normal and their body overlap his in a plasma state without obscuring the relics. It felt even more awkward speaking due to their voices being mixed together.

Doctor: Incredible... Are you two alright?

FE Knack::I- We're fine other than feeling so tingly. Like just had six straight shots of the most intense expresso/black coffee combo strong.

Ryder: That actually sounds worse than what the Doctor makes for his longer projects.

Doctor: Hey! My preference to get enough caffeine to complete my inventions isn't that bad.

Lucas: Not when it's stronger than three energy drinks. -_-

Despite the oddities between each other their kinship is very strong. Reader often storing any relics they find in their pocket space so Knack can defend himself better or communicate vocally if he's small. It isn't uncommon to see the virus napping inside the golem's chest orb, evidence being soft red data 'flakes' ebbing off it. Knack and Reader are protective of each other, moreso the latter who will share their ire if the former is mistreated.

FE Reader: Call him a pet one more time then you'll quickly find a gag sewn inside your throat and a muzzle glued to that sad excuse for a face, Viktor.

Lucas: That's much more extreme than what I had in mind. Any tips?

FE Reader is gonna be quite an influence on Lucas. They are happily willing to hear him out whether it be his ideas or opinions. Even moreso that he's part of the group decisions tends to be sidelined for his age.

Doctor documents any info that revolves around Reader's powers and mannerisms. He is given permission as the former human wants to understand their new body without accidentally hurting anyone. Although they'll pull Vargas back if he goes a bit overboard.

Ryder is there for the ride and hopefully keep things civil in the group. When it comes to FE Reader, he helps in wherever he can. Simple advice and of course warnings on what machinery is fragile to errors.

FE Reader ends up going into the Goblin Village thus separated from Lucas and Knack. Or living virus tries to keep three unarmed people alive throughout a heavily fortified fortress. Not a fun experience especially when said virus loses their temper.

When canon Fatal Error looses his temper, he takes on Critical form. More powerful, more monstrous, and even more eager to tear apart who garners his rage. Same goes for FE Reader albeit with a chaotic buckwild attitude instead.

You can sum it as a walking hurricane of viral code. They'll need to constantly feed on energy or data in order to sustain Critical mode should their rage wane enough. FE Reader will be exhausted afterwards.

They seem to have a peculiar reaction to Giant Relics or exposure to large quantities of relic energy. One such instance would be immediately going Critical just by touching the giant relic in Viktor's Mansion.

Whatever connection they may have to these particular artifacts are still unknown. It will put Fatal Error Reader and those they care about in the crossfire for those with bad intentions. Whether they be humans, goblins or something else.

It'll take more than crashing a few systems to tackle this particular threat. That won't stop this living virus from trying. It's delete or be deleted.

That's it for now! Untill next time folks, I'll see on the next expedition. Ciao!

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, mainly!! praise and pet names, one instance of false praise, [ the following happens inside a crowded room of ppl and possiblyy in front of reader’s husband: groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping, one neck bite, san cums untouched, ] ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, oral (giving/receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover + peaches + nothing on me by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of figurative autofellatio the beautiful people around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a year’s worth of rent. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands, to various vague acquaintances doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms. All of that chaos saught to entice you, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, instead focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink any more, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who all simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, his cheeks flushed red, haphazardly holding onto a half-empty champagne flute, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

Just about spilling the rest of his bubbly onto his lap, San gulped, slowly spreading his thighs open wider and patting one of them, giving you a silent invitation to take things further.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

San’s throat went dry. He must’ve done something truly benevolent in a past life to deserve this. “Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

His cock now directly near your face, San smiled devilishly down at you, his dimples appearing. He lazily ran a closed hand along his curved, dripping length. “And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you? Because Mommy’s a good little slut, huh?”

“What do you think?” you mused, just before running your tongue along the underside of San’s heavy cock up to the salty tip, a pleased chuckle vibrating from your throat.

“Yeah, get it wet for me…” he mumbled absentmindedly, pushing his fingers through your hair to move it out of the way. San pressed his thighs tightly against the side of the bed, thrusting shallowly into your mouth, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

Just when San began getting worked up, you pulled yourself off of him and sat up to rid yourself of your useless, disheveled dress. Hearing a distinct groan of approval, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, you come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you…” San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you. “In fact, I’ll make sure you never forget, baby.”

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[totallynotavampir3]

DKDOYDOZKYDO IM THINKING AND PLOTTING RN WITH THE SONG "Would you fall in love with me again" WHERE YOU/(Y/N) IS DATING CLASSIC WHO THEN BECOMES GENO WHO THEN BECOMES ERROR WITH THE PART THAT GOES "Dont tell me you're not the same person, Your always my husband and I've been waiting x7 for you" LIKE- OHDDODOYIYDIYDITSITE86EI6S86E85SKGDKHFKHCLHXKX IM ACTUALLY GOING FERAL FOR THE IDEA

[godricgryffinsnore]

Felix Felicis & Far Too Many Kisses ♡ : A Harry Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : Harry Potter x female!reader

summary : When Harry takes a dose of Felix Felicis, everything goes too right—including his relentless affection for the reader. With way too many kisses and a chaotic amount of charm, she’s left to handle a very lucky (and very annoying) boyfriend, all while trying not to fall even harder for him. Fluffy, funny, and filled with mischief.

warnings : Excessive fluff, Mild kissing (lots of it, actually), Light teasing/banter, Overwhelming amounts of Harry being too charming, Slight secondhand embarrassment, Golden Trio chaos. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3. This is a drabble, i.e, an extremely short fiction.

word count : 0.6k

main master list <3

banners : @dollywons and @roseschoices

The day began with golden sunlight and a suspicious grin.

Harry Potter had taken Felix Felicis.

And you—you had made the fatal error of meeting him in the corridor between Transfiguration and Charms, where his lips were already pursed like he was about to give you a blessing. Or a headache. Or both.

“Darling,” he said, in that suspiciously sweet tone that usually preceded chaos, “Did you know the stars aligned today just for your smile?”

You blinked. “Harry. Did you take Felix?”

He grinned wider. “Maybe a little.”

“Oh, Merlin save me.”

You turned, ready to walk away before he could stick his luck to you like a stubborn spell—but you weren’t fast enough. He caught your wrist with that maddeningly boyish charm twinkling in his eyes.

“Wait, wait, just one kiss for luck!”

“That’s not how that works.”

“It is today.”

Before you could retort, he leaned in, kissed your cheek, and then your nose, then your forehead, and finally your lips in a series of rapid-fire affections that left you sputtering.

“Harry!”

“I’m in love with the sound of you being flustered,” he murmured dramatically. “It’s almost as good as flying.”

“Honestly,” you muttered, cheeks on fire, “someone take this potion out of his system before I hex him into next week.”

── .✦

Later, in the Gryffindor Common Room…

Ron was trying not to laugh. It wasn’t working.

“Mate, you’re glowing,” he said through snorts. “He actually sparkled when he walked in, didn’t he, Hermione?”

Hermione, nose deep in Hogwarts: A History (abridged edition), huffed. “Felix Felicis does not cause bioluminescence, Ronald. That’s the charm of confidence radiating. Honestly.”

“Radiating like the bloody sun,” you grumbled, curled up in a red armchair while Harry attempted to fit next to you. You nudged him off. “Go be lucky somewhere else!”

But he only laughed, delight curling like sunlight on his tongue.

“You love me.”

“You’re exhausting.”

“You adore me.”

You pointed a finger at him. “Harry James Potter, if you kiss me one more time—”

He kissed you.

Again.

Right in front of Ron and Hermione.

It was warm and sweet, like honey dripping off late-summer bread, and he smiled so dreamily when he pulled away you almost forgot to be mad. Almost.

“Harry,” Hermione warned, “If you keep acting like this, Professor Slughorn will find out you’ve taken the potion.”

“I want him to find out,” Harry declared with a noble puff of his chest. “I’ll tell the whole castle I’m lucky and in love.”

Ron tossed a pillow at him. “Please don’t. Some of us are trying to keep our dinners down.”

── .✦

Much Later, as the sun set over the Astronomy Tower…

You finally dragged him up and out of the castle, hoping the fresh air would cool the golden madness burning in his veins. Instead, he spun you under starlight like the universe belonged to him and he was showing you your kingdom.

“Isn’t it glorious?” he whispered, staring at the sky like it owed him a favour.

“You’ve kissed me twenty-seven times today,” you said, arms folded. “Twenty-seven, Harry. I’ve counted.”

“I’m trying to break a record.”

You glared.

He leaned in with that dopey, dazzling grin. “Twenty-eight?”

You sighed. But there was no malice in it—just fondness blooming, soft and reluctant, like petals in springtime.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferably in love with you.”

He kissed you.

Twenty-eighth time.

You melted, just a little.

Fine. Maybe lucky potion Harry wasn’t that bad.

But Merlin help you if he ever took another dose.

── .✦

Bonus:

The next morning, Harry trudged into the common room looking like a damp sock. The luck had run out. The confidence was gone.

You smiled sweetly.

He blinked at you. “What… did I do yesterday?”

You raised your brow. “You kissed me twenty-eight times, compared my eyes to starlight, and tried to serenade me with a broomstick as a guitar. Twice.”

He groaned into his hands. “Kill me.”

You leaned in.

“Kiss me first.”

His head snapped up, wide-eyed.

“…Really?”

You smirked. “This one doesn’t count. You’re not lucky today.”

“Oh,” he whispered, pulling you in. “I am, actually. I’ve got you.”

And for once, no potion was needed.

[ant1quar1an]

Can you give me a list of things that I can ask about Rain World? Like some prompts?

oh- yeah sure, pfft

i... assume you mean the Rain World Utmv?

so... in terms of characters, have a list:

Bad Sanses

Nightmare

Killer

Dust

Horror

Cross

Star Sanses

Dream

Ink

Swap

Blueberror

Miscellaneous

Classic

Fell

Swapfell

Epic

Fresh

Error

Geno

Fatal

Ccino

Outer

Saejun

Questions to ask:

What is [name's] slugcat type?

What is [name's] favourite food? colour? time of day? hobby? favourite area?

what's their personality like?

what role do they play?

what is their karma at?

how many cycles have they survived?

have they met [creature]

have they ever seen a slugpup around?

X reader Questions:

Dating headcanons?

What are they like as a s/o

What would I have to deal with as their s/o?

What are blatant red flags staring me in the face?

What are the risks of dating them?

[bisexualiteaa]

I’d let the world burn for you

Silco x fem reader (ANGST!)

Synopsis: When Jinx undergoes shimmer surgery to save her life, but what if it was his lover instead of Jinx?

CW: season 1 spoilers, established relationship, reader sustains a near fatal injury, heavy talk of needles, shimmer and its effects, brief mentions of bl00d, brief mentions of a knïfe, talk of drügs, surgery, angst with good ending, possible grammar/spelling errors, proofread

A few great songs that I listened to while writing this incase yall are interested! I truly can’t recommend this soundtrack enough, it’s so perfect ♥️

AN: this idea came to me spontaneously and I kind of just wanted to see where my mind could take it! It is 1am however as I post this so please be kind. 😭 Also felt like changing it up a little bit with some angst thrown into the mix, I’m enjoying writing for Silco but of course, asks are open if yall want anything in particular! As always, I hope you all enjoy! ♥️

Where did it all go wrong? It was the question he’d been asking himself for far too long now, wondering what he could have possibly done, how this unspeakable act could have been avoided. Yet through all the possibilities there wasn’t an answer he’d come to that satisfied him enough. No answer that brought him enough peace.

One moment he was in his chair, leaned over his desk with a drink in hand as he looked over the papers that sat in front of him. The next, Sevika was carrying your limp body that sat unmoving in her arms. Now here you were, coldly strapped to a surgical table, making you look more like a test subject for something horrific rather than a patient seeking care, your breathing so faint that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, afraid that if he did you may stop breathing all together. “How did this happen?!” Silco asked, hands gripping the edge of the table so tight that his knuckles were turning white, anger heavily entwined in his tone as he looked to Sevika. He needed answers and hated that he didn’t have a single one. “I don’t know, I was inside when it happened. I’d heard what sounded like a scuffle from not too far but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Figured maybe a topsider had tread into the wrong territory, or was a deal gone bad. Then when I stepped outside I just saw her lying there” Sevika answered, looking to you as your body lay bound to the table uncaringly, a pang of sympathy in her gaze as she looked upon you in such a tragic state. As much as she didn’t understand your dynamic with Silco, she couldn’t deny the fact that she’d started to warm up to you a little over time. Seeing Silco happy because of you gave her a semblance of peace, and everyone took notice of the way that you seemed to brighten up the place a bit whenever you were around. She admired the way that he was willing to burn the world to cinders and ash for you, how you were the calm to his raging storm. You complimented one another perfectly. Despite her lack of understanding of your relationship, you didn’t deserve what had been done to you, and they both had a feeling it was likely a strategic hit. One meant to rattle Silco, throw him off his game and distract him, yet all it seemed to do was fuel his already raging fire. “And you didn’t even think to check?!” He asked, blind rage flowing through him like the very blood in his veins. “How was I supposed to know it was her? You can’t expect me to keep my ear out every time there’s a fight! For fucks sake, they happen too often here!” She defended, making him sigh heavily with agitation. She was right, it was rather unreasonable of him to expect such a thing but he felt so helpless in this moment, he couldn’t stop himself from lashing out. Seeing you hurt to such a point as this made him angry. Ultimately he was out of control in this situation, and it left him seeing red.

He smoothed his hands through his hair as he looked up at the ceiling to the bright lights, trying to collect himself the best he could for the time being. “Find who did this” he ordered, ready to give whoever did this to you as taste of his wrath. “Are you sure you want to stay here for this? I can watch over her if you’d rather. I can’t imagine this is going to be easy on either of you, especially her” she offered, knowing this would be hard for him to watch, and even harder on you to have to go through it. “No, I need to be here. I can handle it, I need to know she’s okay” he replied before looking to you, grabbing your hand gently in his, touching you so softly and carefully as if you were made of glass and could shatter at any moment. He wasn’t there to aid you when you’d gotten hurt, the guilt of it ate away at him, forcing him to stay here with you now, even if the sight of you in such pain tore him apart inside. “Who could do such a thing as awful as this to someone this kind?” He asked, his question rhetorical but gods how he wished he had an answer. Perhaps it was better if he didn’t, but it baffled him nonetheless. “When you find who did this, be sure to send them to me. An act this egregious will suffer a great consequence” he finished, watching her nod her head silently in acknowledgment before walking out to find who did this to you.

“This process will be…demanding. Sometimes death is a far greater mercy” Singe spoke as he walked over to his tools, ensuring everything was prepped for your procedure. “She can take it. I know she can” Silco replied, looking to the scarred man as he pulled out a syringe and a vial, filling it with a yellowish-green liquid. “Before I begin, I must know; are you prepared to lose her?” Singe asked, a question that made Silco furrow his brows in confusion as he looked to the doctor. What kind of question is that? It was a preposterous question, one he couldn’t possibly think of any other response to than the one he was about to give. As he was about to speak, he heard you sputter into a short coughing fit, blood splattering along your lower lip and chin as you winced and groaned in pain, writhing beneath the binds that held you to the table. Silco’s eyes widened with a gasp as you did, all but hurling himself toward you to check and see if you were okay. He leaned over you, hand cupping your cheek as a look of concern flashed across his face, trying to read your expression and watching your breathing as he called your name in the hopes it would get you to look at him. He wasn’t looking for a sign, anything to show him that you were okay. Yet your eyes were too heavy to open, body too weak to respond the way he wanted you to.

“She won’t die, doctor. She can’t” he finally responded, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek as his hand smoothed through your hair, sweeping it from your face in attempts to keep it out of your eyes should they open again before the process began. He hovered over you protectively, thumb caressing your skin in a soothing manner. It was a soft gesture you’d always done to him, a gesture he’d adopted from you after the countless times you’d done it to him. From wiping the tear from his eye after his injections, to simply doing so to grab his attention, it was something so soft, so gentle, so you. It only felt right to return the gesture. “I understand” the doctor replied, pulling out a chair, the hiss of the metal scratching against the floor a vile sound that filled the air for thankfully only a moment before he trailed over to the table and behind Silco. “But please understand, this is for your own sanity” Singe said as he injected half of the syringe of liquid into Silco’s neck, helping him fall to the chair he had pulled out. The dizziness and weakness had already begun to set in, the world moving around him slower and more blurry than normal. Everything was slightly muffled as if he were underwater, finally making it click what he had injected him with. It was a sedative.

You gasped for air as your eyes opened, coughs sputtering from your throat that felt dry as sandpaper. Your eyes scanned your surroundings, fear evident in your gaze as you looked to the bright lights then searched your surroundings, panic striking you as you fought against the straps holding you against the table. You yelped in pain as an injection was soon pushed into your veins, causing you to look down at what was happening. The bright purple liquid shining beneath your skin told you that it was Shimmer coursing through you now. It left trails up your arm from the injection site, purple and black trails that looked as if it were reviving your cells and killing them at the same time. It was terrifying, and the pain was insurmountable, leaving you to groan in pain and muscles tensed as you squirmed on the cold, metal table.

For a moment, the pain seemed to let up long enough for you to turn your head to the other side of the room to see Silco in a chair, slumped over. He looked tired, but something wasn’t quite right, he wouldn’t be so tired as to sleep while this was happening. Your breathing was harsh, ragged even as you tried to focus on his expression but the ebbing pain, mixed with the effects of the shimmer as it reached your blood stream and found its way through every vein and artery now made it nearly impossible. “Sil…” you called out for him weakly, attempting to reach out towards him but your hands were bound to the table, leaving you to lie there helplessly. You felt so cold, so sore, but above all else, you felt so alone. Was this death? Rebirth maybe? You weren’t sure, all you knew was that it was extremely unpleasant, your body and mind screaming for it to be over. Unfortunately your painless moment had quickly come to an end as more of the iridescent liquid seared through your veins once more, only serving to turn the veins within your arm more and more angry as you winced in pain. You gasped and sputtered as it climbed up your arm, past your shoulder into your neck before spilling from your tear ducts and mouth as you coughed, desperate for air to fill your lungs. You felt as if you were nearly drowning, as if you were being given far too much for your body to be able to withstand. A shrill, excruciating scream escaped you as you begged for it to stop, detesting cries leaving your lips as agony consumed you whole. It felt like torture and all you could do was endure it. “I understand this must be painful. I’m afraid it will only get worse” the doctor spoke, his apathetic words doing nothing to soothe your pain or calm you as he brought another needle to your cheek. “No! No, please no…stop!” You yelled, trying your hardest to jerk away from the needle but it was no use, like a caged animal, there was no escape from this. You closed your eyes as he pricked you again, making you cry out once more in pain as your body was shocked and overwhelmed from the sheer amount of trauma being done to it. He only seemed to smile as he did all this to you, watching you writhe in agony and cry out in pain only seemed to bring him joy in a way that you loathed. Everything around you was getting fuzzy at the edges, you couldn’t tell what was real and what was not. From there, it was all a blur. Your mind blacking out from the immense amount of pain in such a concentrated period of time. It had felt like an eternity before it all was finally over.

Silco opened his eye to see his hands resting against his thighs, the world spinning around him as he did his best to shake the effects of the drug he was injected with, trying to ground himself to reality. How much time had passed? Was the procedure done? Had he healed you? All questions that he again, did not have the answers to, but at least they were easier to access being that he was here in the room with you. He looked up from the floor to the table, seeing you were no longer bound in those awful straps, but that your eyes were still closed, not looking much different than when he first brought you in here. He groaned with confusion as he fought to catch his breath that seemed a little harder to obtain than normal, stumbling to his feet and towards the doctor who was currently washing a blade with his back turned to Silco. He turned momentarily when Silco pushed him against the sink, grasping him with all the energy and strength he could muster, looking upon him angrily with a fire raging in his eyes. “What have you done?” He rasped out, voice laced with vexation and eyes filled with malice as he waited for the doctor to answer him. “I saved her life” he responded matter-of-factly, making him only scowl deeper as he quickly snatched the knife from the sink and pointed it at Singe, not believing him.

“Sil…?” You called out weakly, voice hoarse from all your coughing, screaming and crying but just loud enough for him to catch. His eyes widened with surprise as he heard you, head turning to look at you reaching out for him. Your eyes searched around the room for him as you’d only just returned to consciousness. In a moment’s notice the knife came clambering to the ground as he stumbled over to you, doing the best he could to get there quickly despite the effects of the drug still weighing pretty heavy in his system. He grabbed your hand as he made it, resting his other against the table and using it to hold him up as he hovered over you protectively again. Silco felt you weakly squeeze his hand back, prompting him to pull you up into a hug so fast you could hardly recognize it had happened. “Thank gods you’re here” you spoke. He was so overcome with joy and relief to see that you were okay, or at least responsive, which compared to how you were before, was already a massive improvement. “I’m here, darling. I’m here, I’ll always be here” he assured, his hand smoothing over the back of your head as he held you protectively in his arms. He nearly cried as he felt you wrap your arms around him in return, kissing your head gently as his heart raced, pounding harshly within his chest from all the adrenaline coursing through him.

His heart broke as he saw the effects the procedure had done to your body, looking to the purple and black streaks running up your arms, tainting your perfect skin. He’d recognized those effects from anywhere. Shimmer. Rage overtook him once more as he turned to the doctor upon his realization. “You used Shimmer on her?!” He asked, voice raised in disbelief that he would use such a harsh, untamed chemical on you under the guise of trying to help you. “It saved her, didn’t it?” The doctor replied, making him seethe with exasperation. “It could have KILLED her!” Silco spat, not taking kindly to Singe’s apathetic tone, but your soft touch brought him back to reality. Your hand cupped his cheek, turning him to face you in the hopes that you could soothe his anger, and you managed to do so with ease. His eyes fell to yours as he turned, that wicked, violent look in his gaze beginning to fade away as he looked at you, seeing a new shade residing in your irises than before. He was doing his best to not allow the scars that had climbed up your arm to your neck to break this tender moment, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt that he caused you this pain, he caused these scars, these changes. Yet you continued to smile at him as if he hung the stars in the sky above. The atrocities he would commit for you to see that smile stay stretched across your sweet lips. To keep you safe and happy. He would kill for you, die for you. “It’s okay, I’m here love. There is no need for such violence, I promise” you spoke, your kind voice so strained, but you were right, he had saved you, something he was thankful for, he just wished it could have been brought about any other way. He fought so long and so hard to keep you as far away from it as possible, yet here you stand, saved by it. It was a conflicting feeling. Now all that was left was to find the vile person caused all of this to come about, but perhaps that was better suited for another time, another day. For now, all he wanted was to get you home safe, to enjoy the time he has with you now that he wasn’t sure he would have when he and Sevika had first brought you here. You needed the rest, your body was tired and so sore. Your recovery was his top priority, so for now his vengeance would have to come another day, but he could rest easy for now knowing that you were still here with him. The world would live to survive another day, but make no mistake, he would burn it all to the ground for you if you asked him to.

[luv4arinn]

I Just Wanna Feel

Author’s Note: So—sorry for not posting in weeks, but I had a massive writer’s block, and well… I’m back! I was heavily inspired by THAT Robbie Williams song. Yes, I watched his biopic. Yes, I cried. Yes, I recommend it. And… surprise?! There will be a whole chronology with the others, all themed around Robbie’s songs! Yayy <3!! Consider it a gift? from me for taking so long 🥺. Love you all.

Pairing: Bayverse!Donnie x female reader

Tags: Intense fluff, nerd having an emotional crisis, extreme overthinking, unexpected kisses, Donatello’s mental breakdown, romantic panic, “oh no I messed up” but in HD, happy ending.

The sound of the keyboard echoed through the room—a rhythmic, steady tapping that blended with the low hum of the monitors. The bluish glow from the screens cast irregular shadows across his face, reflecting off the lenses of his glasses with every line of code appearing and disappearing on the monitor.

Donatello was there, as always.

The work was easy. Thinking was easy.

It was like a well-structured algorithm: receive information, process it, execute a plan of action. The world had rules, patterns, probabilities—formulas that predicted outcomes with near-absolute precision. No matter how chaotic a situation seemed, there was always a logical solution waiting to be uncovered.

Computers don’t lie.

Data has no biases, no whims. It doesn’t suffer irrational fluctuations. It doesn’t beat faster without reason. It doesn’t have to remind itself to breathe.

But then…

There’s you.

And everything falls apart.

Not immediately. Not like a fatal error shutting down the system in the blink of an eye. It’s more subtle. Like an unexpected variable in an equation that had, until now, been perfect. Something that doesn’t fit into the rigid structure of his world—but something he can’t ignore either.

He thinks about it often. About how his brain operates like a well-calibrated machine, each thought clicking into the next like the teeth of a moving gear. Logic is his native language. Reason, his compass.

And yet, when it comes to you, all that logic becomes blurred.

The gears grind.

The code becomes erratic.

The equation fills with unknowns.

Because when you step into his space, when your voice disrupts the steady rhythm of his keyboard, when you lean over his desk without a second thought for the scattered circuits and switch off his monitor without warning…

His first instinct is to think. Analyze. Quantify.

What does this mean?

Why does his heart react this way?

Why does his skin register the shift in temperature more intensely when you’re near?

But thinking doesn’t give him answers.

Feeling does.

And that is terrifying.

Because feeling isn’t predictable. Feeling has no neatly arranged lines of code, no graphs to chart behavioral patterns, no equations with exact solutions.

Emotions, in themselves, are a chaotic system.

And you…

You are the anomaly he still doesn’t know how to decode.

Nights shouldn’t feel this short when spent alone in front of a screen. And yet, when his mind drifts to the memory of a laugh, the fleeting image of a glance, the echo of an accidental touch… time dissolves in a way not even quantum physics could explain.

When he feels the weight of his name on your tongue. Like an access key to a system he never thought anyone would try to hack.

And he watches you from the corner of his eye as you lean closer, and in that instant, every variable in his mind shifts. Every equation rewrites itself.

A shiver runs down his shell.

Feeling.

He knows because his chest tightens with an undefined pressure, a sensation he can’t attribute to any specific physiological variable. His heart rate isn’t elevated from exertion. He’s not under attack. He’s not in danger.

So why does his body react as if he is?

There’s no equation to explain this.

Because if there were, he would have solved it long ago. He would have identified the problem, broken it down into its components, eliminated any errors. But every time he thinks he’s close to an answer, another unknown appears, shifting all previous solutions out of place.

Music filters through his headphones, slow and melancholic.

“I just wanna feel, real love…”

A shiver runs down his spine.

His body reacts to the sound before his mind does. It’s absurd. It’s ridiculous. There is no logical reason why a progression of chords and a set of words arranged in a certain way should have this effect on him.

And yet, here he is.

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, motionless—caught between the instinct to keep working and the strange, undeniable realization that… he can’t.

Not because he’s tired.

Not because he lacks information.

Not because there’s a problem that requires more processing.

But because, for the first time in a long time, the data isn’t the most important thing.

The screen flickers with information he should be absorbing, but he isn’t. His glasses reflect numbers and graphs that would normally hold his full attention, but his gaze is empty, unfocused.

The room remains unchanged—draped in shadows, illuminated only by the bluish glow of his monitors and the faint blinking of LED lights from his equipment.

The mission had been difficult. The margin of error had been higher than he liked to admit.

It wasn’t often that his calculations failed.

But sometimes, calculations weren’t enough.

Sometimes, reality simply… refused to adhere to logic.

“Feel the home that I live in…”

His jaw tightens.

He doesn’t know how that song ended up on his playlist.

But he has a reasonable theory.

One that involves Mikey, his blatant disregard for personal privacy, and his insistent need to “help him connect with his emotions.”

(Sure. Right.)

And yet…

The lyrics hit him harder than he’d like to admit.

It’s not the melody itself. It’s not the chords or the rhythm. It’s the way the words seem to slip through the cracks in his mind, seeping into the spaces that logic has never quite managed to seal shut.

“I just wanna feel, real love…”

Donnie exhales slowly, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard, motionless.

He thinks about the battle.

The mistakes.

The risks they took.

Numbers flash through his mind like a simulation running in reverse—impact probability, the margin of error in his calculations, the reaction speed needed to avoid damage. Fractions of a second where the difference between victory and absolute disaster depended on decisions made under pressure.

But more than anything—he thinks about you.

He thinks about the way, at the end of the fight, you rushed to check if he was okay.

About how, without even thinking, your hands—warm, alive—ran along his arm, searching for injuries he had already identified and dismissed milliseconds before with his visor.

He could have told you it wasn’t necessary.

That he was unharmed.

That he had concrete data to prove it.

But he didn’t.

Because logic dictates that worry should be extinguished by facts.

But feeling…

Feeling dictates that your touch lingers, even after you’ve gone.

That the sensation of your skin against his stays beyond his capacity for reasoning.

That the light pressure of your fingers on his forearm still burns in his memory, like an unsolved equation looping endlessly in his mind.

“Come and hold my hand…”

Donnie closes his eyes.

He could turn the song off.

He could erase the anomaly from his system.

He could rewrite the equation, adjust the variables, find a way to rationalize what he feels.

But… he doesn’t want to.

Because for the first time in his life, the result of a problem doesn’t matter as much as the unknown.

He doesn’t just want to think.

He wants to feel.

He wants to understand why being with you feels like the only constant that truly matters.

And then—you arrive.

Without warning, without fanfare, without the slightest idea that the world inside Donatello’s mind is teetering on the edge of a collapse even he can’t explain.

The lab door slides open smoothly—barely a whisper against the silence, thick with static electricity and the faint murmur of music in his headphones.

He notices everything.

The shift in air pressure.

The sound of your footsteps, softened against the floor.

The faint scent of shampoo and fabric laced with the chill of the night.

The way the temperature in the room rises by just a fraction of a degree when you step inside.

But he doesn’t turn around immediately.

Because he doesn’t know what to do with the anomaly that you are in his equation.

He doesn’t know where to place you within the rigid parameters of his logical, structured world.

His operating system slows, his brain—so used to processing information with the precision of a surgeon—stalls in an endless loop, searching for a resolution that refuses to exist.

And then—your voice.

“Donnie?”

Soft. Not because you’re hesitant, but because you know him. Because somehow—through a method he can’t quantify—you can read the tension in his shoulders. You can see the way his fingers have stopped typing, even though the screen is still waiting for input.

He closes his eyes for just a moment, as if that alone might be enough to reboot him, to restore the control that feels like it’s slipping through his fingers.

He knows he should say something.

He knows he should act normal.

But his normal means efficiency, speed, precise answers delivered at the exact right moment.

And right now, every command in his mind is failing.

You watch him with quiet curiosity, tilting just slightly toward him—just enough for the air between you to feel heavier, more tangible.

“Everything okay?” you ask, voice soft in that way that completely disarms him. Then your gaze sharpens slightly, scanning him with quiet scrutiny. “Are you hurt?”

He doesn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looks at you.

His mind runs an automatic analysis of your expression—eyes slightly narrowed, lips barely pressed together, the faintest crease in your right brow, as if you’re already calculating the probability that he’s lying.

Logic dictates that he should reassure you with data. That he should tell you his visor has already run a full diagnostic scan and that his physical condition is optimal. That there is no rational reason for concern.

But then his gaze drops.

And he sees his own hand, still resting on the desk—still tense.

And for the first time in a long time, he chooses to do something without overthinking it.

He looks at you again.

His throat feels dry. Without realizing it, he wets his lips—a quick flick of his tongue over skin cracked from hours without proper hydration.

Then, in a voice so quiet it barely sounds like his own, he asks:

“Can I… hold your hand?”

It’s not the kind of question anyone would expect from him.

And he knows it.

Because it doesn’t fit his usual patterns. It’s not something that makes sense in any logical context.

But right now, logic is utterly useless to him.

Your lashes flutter in subtle surprise, as if the words take a few extra seconds to fully register.

“What?”

His instincts scream at him to backtrack, to rephrase, to find a way to explain what even he doesn’t fully understand.

But he doesn’t.

“I want to…” He inhales, trying to reorganize his thoughts. “I mean, just—”

He shuts his eyes for a second, frustration flickering across his face. He has never felt this clumsy with words before.

When he opens them again, you’re still there. You haven’t moved. You haven’t looked away.

And somehow, that alone gives him the courage he’s lacking.

“I just… want to feel it.”

The truth escapes him so easily, so quietly, that it almost embarrasses him.

Your expression shifts.

It’s not amusement.

It’s not rejection.

It’s something softer. More intimate.

And without questioning it—without hesitation or unnecessary words—you let your hand slide over his.

Not hurriedly.

Not hesitantly.

Just with the quiet certainty of someone who understands exactly what he’s asking for.

And when your fingers intertwine with his, Donnie feels every equation, every algorithm, every carefully structured rule in his mind… simply dissolve.

As if they had never really mattered in the first place.

“Well?” you ask, your voice carrying a faint attempt at lightness.

Donnie knows you’re trying to sound casual, that you’re masking your uncertainty behind a relaxed tone. But he notices.

He notices the delicate dusting of pink on your cheeks, the almost imperceptible tremor in your lower lip, the way your thumb brushes against the back of his hand—like you’re adjusting to the contact just as much as he is.

And something inside him… softens.

His lips curve, at first unconsciously—a smile, small and barely formed. Then, from deep in his chest, a quiet laugh escapes, unbidden and genuine, as weightless as the air after a storm.

It’s not mockery. It’s not disbelief.

It’s something purer. Something real.

—Nothing, —he murmurs, his thumb moving awkwardly against your skin— Just… this is nice.

The confession catches him off guard.

Because he hadn’t planned it.

Because he hadn’t filtered it through his logic before speaking.

Because it simply happened.

And then, you look at each other.

Maybe for too long.

Maybe just long enough for the world around you to blur into a distant murmur, as if nothing else exists except the space you occupy together.

He finds himself mesmerized by you.

Fascinated.

But not in the way he is fascinated by a new equation, by an unexpected pattern in the data, by the perfect symmetry of a well-designed structure.

This is different.

This is raw.

This is visceral.

This is feeling.

His other hand, trembling in a way he doesn’t understand, lifts with a slowness that borders on reverence.

And when his fingers brush against your cheek, the touch is so light it feels like an experiment in itself.

He feels.

He feels the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the way it molds so effortlessly to his touch, the way your body leans ever so slightly toward him—responding to an equation he hasn’t yet written but, for the first time, doesn’t feel the need to solve.

He feels the erratic pounding of his own heart, too fast, too unsteady, as if it has forgotten its natural rhythm.

He feels the heat gathering in his chest, expanding outward like a shockwave, defying all logical explanation.

And then, he hears you sigh.

Small.

Soft.

Almost imperceptible.

But he feels it.

He feels the warmth of your breath against his skin, the subtle vibration of your exhale in the nonexistent space between you.

Feels,

feels,

feels.

As if every one of his senses—once so meticulously calibrated to process information—has now been repurposed for a single objective:

You.

Your warmth seeping into his skin.

Your quiet, rhythmic breathing.

The barely-there weight of your gaze resting on him.

The familiar scent of you, imprinting itself onto some hidden corner of his mind he never thought necessary.

Just you.

Only you.

Nothing else exists.

Nothing else matters.

And then—without thinking, without calculating, without rationalizing it into exhaustion like he always does—

he kisses you.

It’s brief. Just a brush of lips.

A moment suspended between doubt and need, between impulse and fear.

A single heartbeat contained in a single point of contact.

And then—

He hears you gasp.

His entire body locks up. Every muscle goes rigid with a tension so sharp it’s almost painful.

His brain—so efficient, so precise, so relentless in its ability to analyze every variable in a situation—enters a total shutdown.

He stares at you, eyes wide, pupils blown.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

He misread everything.

What the hell was he thinking?

You don’t see him that way.

Why would you?

Why would you ever?

Shame crashes over him like an unstoppable wave. His stomach twists, his skin burns, his heart clenches into an invisible fist that threatens to crush it from the inside out.

He pulls back, his hands loosening, his voice catching in his throat.

—Oh, God, I didn’t mean to— —he stammers, his voice cracking under the weight of his own panic. His thoughts are a mess of unsolved equations, of probabilities collapsing into a singularity of pure dread— I just… I thought it was a good moment, I—

—Yes.

Your voice cuts through his spiral.

His brain short-circuits.

—It was.

…

What?

His breath halts.

The air thickens, pressing in from all sides, as if the entire universe has stopped—right here, right now, in these words, in this reality he never accounted for.

And then—

You close the distance.

You are the one to bring your lips back to his.

And his mind—his brilliant, overanalyzing mind—

for the first time in his life—goes completely silent.

And he simply—feels.

[absurd-ash]

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT

so most of you probably noticed that I’m not really on this account that much anymore, and that’s because I’m fully switching onto my art account Arrtsy-Ash! That doesn’t mean I’ll stop posting these fics, no! Not at all! I’ll be announcing the fic updates on there too! But I want to make writing a hobbie and focus on art more since I’m wanting to make that a career. Now, there won’t be much fanfic content there and I’ll no longer be doing requests, sorry, but I still want to write these fanfics cuz I love what we all have going on here! So hopefully I’ll see you guys on my other account! (:

[adispit]

The Aftermath

Alpha rival king x alpha m!reader

A mini part 2 of The Crown!

Warnings: dubcon, handjob, possessive Leo

note: yeah this isn’t really a smut centered piece more centered on the story also I didn’t beta read this so if there’s errors yeah 😭

Something was wrong. Your nape ached with a searing intensity, and your fangs felt inexplicably dull. The air around you reeked of something unmistakable—alpha. Jolting awake, your entire body ached with a deep, lingering pain. Wait a minute, this wasn’t your bed. Where were you?! These luxurious sheets were also something you couldn’t afford…even as a royal.

Your entire body reeked of alpha pheromones—clearly not your own. They carried a hint of musky leather and a scent reminiscent of stormy nights. What was even more concerning was the fact that your body responded in this scent—you liked it..! As an alpha! Panic and confusion surged through your mind as blurry afterimages of the previous night flashed through your thoughts in a matter of seconds. You felt your face flush red with humiliation and shame. Right. You had gotten…bitched. Bitched by Leo.

Sunlight streamed through the windows of your bedroom like any other ordinary day. Except it wasn’t. The clear and fresh humiliation seared and burned into your mind, your only remaining pride as an alpha remaining— completely shattered and destroyed. How could you have submitted! To the very man who invaded and conquered your country?! The man who ruthlessly slaughtered your countrymen…the very man who also mercilessly fucked you…on the throne. Embarrassment once again took ahold of you as your sore nape throbbed at the thought of the events of the previous night.

"You done wallowing in pity?" A cold, harsh voice sliced through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. A slim and lean man stood at the foot of the bed you lay in, holding a clipboard. He emitted no scent and seemed to be a beta. “Who are you?!” you demanded, glaring at him with guarded suspicion.

“Calm down. I’m a private doctor who’s friends with Leo, he called for me to come examine you.” He rolled his eyes in irritation. “He doesn’t even pay me to deal with the bullshit I have to deal with…Anyways, you clearly went through a number. This guy initiated such a forceful bitching on the spot when you were clearly emotionally and mentally stimulated. Now the consequences of that is, due to the traumatic experience which was caused by the sudden change of your secondary gender, your body is in a pseudo-state of an omega. You aren’t really one right now, you still retain your alpha features….” Hearing the doctor ramble on, you blankly stared off into space.

An omega. You were now an omega. Why— “Hey! Are you listening?” He snapped his fingers. “Listen to what I say!” His frustration was evident in his growl. You blinked your eyes apologetically, trying to focus on his words. “As I was saying, you do still have your features as an alpha, those fangs can still mark someone and your cock still has a knot. Well, a rather pitiful one as of now though, I did have to examine you.” He shook his head in what seemed like gratuitous pity.

“However, your body is in a state of transition into an omega right now. You will leak slick and have random pseudo-heats until you have stabilised as an omega. Without the presence of Leo, the alpha who marked you, your body would not survive those heats and it would be fatal. This is also because of the heat you went through after he bit you.” He droned on monotonously. Like a knife through butter, your heart felt as though it was ripped open at the news.

This man was fucking sick. Everyone was fucking sick! Grinding your teeth in fury, you glared at the doctor in a fit of rage. “Okay, don’t shoot the messenger…just trying to do my job. Just have plenty of rest and with your alpha by your side. I’ll prescribe an ointment for that bite. And speak of the devil! I’ll go now.” He helplessly pinched the crease between his eyebrows before striding off. “How’s my wife doing?” A rich, magnetic voice echoed in the chamber as you were met with piercing blue eyes that seemed to engulf you in their entirety.

“Fuck off.” You spat at him with as much venom your hoarse voice could muster. A pitiful attempt that seemed to only make the teasing grin on his face grow bigger. If he hadn’t bitched and fucked you, you would have assumed this man would have been sent by the heavens to save you. “So feisty… love that about you, (Name),” he grinned, his eyes locked on you, seemingly ready to devour you at any moment.

“You’ve heard the man, as your husband and your alpha, I shall assist you through your heats and provide you with all the loving care you could ever need.” With a malice-filled smile, he manhandled you into a hug that seemed to steal your very breath away from you. “Ugh! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You struggled weakly, flailing your arms as he gripped onto you tighter at your resistance. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen, causing you to collapse weakly into his arms.

Lightly caressing your cheek, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek as he muttered for you to rest, clearly displeased. The rasp of his voice filled your ears as you couldn’t help but press your legs together unconsciously. Your heart pounded in your ears as blood rushed to your cheeks and also your… “Are you hard right now?” A hint of amusement in his voice cut through the heavy silence. “N-no! I’m…” Leaving no room for argument, he lifted up your flimsy gown to the sight of your pathetically erect cock, leaking beads of precum.

Huffing playfully, he palmed at your throbbing dick, earning a soft whine from you. Your eyes were half-lidded and glazed over with lust. Your mouth hung agape, forming words that didn’t exist with a voice you didn’t have in your efforts to comprehend the pleasure you were begrudgingly feeling. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want rough and calloused fingers so delicately brushing over your sensitive tip, making your insides twist and turn at the familiar delicious burn of pleasure.

Your head started to droop, but a sharp squeeze to your cock brought you back in an instant. “Are you enjoying yourself, (Name)?” Leo smiled, full of mirth but also of ill intentions. Slowly, he began to pump your member again, his cruel smile twisting upwards as he heard you let out a strangled moan. Glancing at yourself, you had no choice but admit you were a mess really. Your skin covered with a fine sheen of sweat as you panted laboriously and your hips involuntarily rocking into the warm hold of Leo’s fist.

Grunting disdainfully at the lack of response from you, Leo sighed into the crook of your neck, hot breath brushing against the very bite mark that seemed to burn. “You say you don’t want this though,” his hand crawled achingly slowly up to the desperately sensitive tip. “Maybe I should just leave you be. Just. Let. You. Be.” With each word he punctuated it with a gentle rub of the precum-soaked tip, you nearly found yourself sent over the edge from that alone. You were too close to stop now.

“Please…” A weak plea left your throat. You couldn’t help himself. You knew it was a mistake, but one your useless body was so desperate to make. This ache had to go away. “Please Leo…”Leo grinned victoriously. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” You smelt the air suddenly surge with pheromones. Ah. That soothing smell. Whilst seemingly suffocating in his pheromones, Leo increased the speed of his pumping, making you come undone with a silent scream as the exhaustion overtook you. Slumping down, you felt your taut body sink into his arms before once again passing out. “Fuck.” Leo looked down at the wet stain in his pants and the tent that wouldn’t go away.

A few years ago, under the cover of night, he had ventured out to the same forest clearing where he had once found solace. It was a place he had comforted you in before, though back then, you were both younger. As he arrived, ready to unleash his annoyance on the intruder, he was taken aback to find you huddled, trembling with unshed tears. Your defiant gaze intrigued him, and despite his initial intention to chase you away, he was struck by your vulnerability.

“Hey, you can’t be in… here…” he began, but trailed off when he saw your pitiful form. Struggling with unfamiliar emotions, he attempted to offer comfort, a rare gesture for someone of his royal stature. “You… okay?” he asked awkwardly, furrowing his brows.

“I’m o-okay!” you quickly responded, rubbing your eyes and standing up with a sheepish grin. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you with my crying…” Your innocent reaction only made him more determined to be gentle, despite his internal conflict. His pheromones, released unconsciously, elicited a low snarl from you, signaling your hostility. The mingling scents of earthy soil and rain from you in the air only highlighted the moment.

“Sorry…” he said, rubbing his head in apology. You merely nodded and hurried away into the distance. Though he had expected never to see you again, fate had other plans. Now that you were back in his life, he was resolved never to let you go again.

note: so yeah that’s it uh Leo had an interest in you and ran w it and he met u to ur very misfortune. Reader isn’t having a really great time overall 😭 but I hope this explains things! Tried my hand at something more story related

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️