#ft: lyra & madee

[ophcliaswrites]

I never said I was a good person. You're my mom. I need to believe you're a good person.

Brianne Howey as Georgia Miller in Ginny & Georgia 2.03 ‘What Are You Playing at, Little Girl?’

[kyleoreillylover]

INSTAGRAM AU! Dominik Mysterio x Black!Fem!Reader

A/N: I got inspired by a fanfic like this, so I thought I'd take matters into my own hands and write one for my man Dominik. This took so long, so I hope you guys enjoy!

LIKED BY DOMINIK MYSTERIO, RHEA RIPLEY AND 2 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: dream world ☀️ pic creds to rhea :)

VIEW COMMENTS

dominikmysterio: my dream girl ;)

↳y/n: and don't you ever forget it ☺️

↳ rhearipley: dom dom don't forget that she was mine first!!

↳dominikmysterio: but now she's mine, not yours. sorry not sorry, mami 🤷

↳ynstan134: the girls are fighting 😭 Dom you better stop you know Rhea would beat your ass for y/n 😭

↳y/n: ladies, ladies, calm down, there's enough for me to go around 😉

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LIKED BY Y/N, FINN BALOR, RHEA RIPLEY AND 3 MILLION OTHERS

dominikmysterio: Kicked ass in the ring, and in WWE 2k23 (sorry not sorry babe).

tagged: y/n

VIEW COMMENTS

y/n: fr (I literally beat your ass in every single match and you told me to take it easy on you but it's whatever)

↳y/nstan123: LMAOO DOM WHY ARE YOU LYING

↳dominikmysterio: mi corazon why are you lying on my name 🤔 gaslighting is not healthy

↳y/n: I guess the pics I took of me winning are me gaslighting you then?

↳dominikmysterio: baby of course it's gaslighting, I don't expect anything less from you 🙄

damienpriest: bro didn't even let his girl win 😂 (you called me and finn on ft and complained about her winning)

↳y/nlover234: I love how everyone is just exposing Dom 😭

↳dominikmysterio: bro your supposed to be on my side!! ¿Qué pasa con el código hermano??!

↳damienpriest: Sorry bro, eras tú o Rhea y y/n me golpeó el trasero. 🤷

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LIKED BY WWE, DAMIEN PREIST, RHEA RIPLEY AND 2 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: You're either with us or beneath us 😈

tagged: dominikmysterio

VIEW COMMENTS

y/nstan234: the way he looks at her 🥹😭

finnbalor: so proud of everything you accomplished ❤️

↳y/n: thank you good sir ❤️ couldn't imagine ruling the wwe without you by my side

↳domlover619: this is so cute 😭 you and finn as a duo are so underrated

dominikmysterio: can I be on top of you?

↳tjdstan: ??!! DOM 😭 have some decorum

↳y/nlover134:bro can barely control himself in the ring with her, ya'll thought he would control himself on instagram 😭

↳y/n: sorry babe, that spot is reserved for rhea only 🤷 No hard feelings though! 😘

↳tjdstan: LMAAOO 😭 that's tough dom 😂

↳rhearipley: as it should be, love. sorry not sorry dom dom 🥰

↳damianpriest: you see me personally dom... i wouldn't take that disrespect. but that's just me 🤷

↳finnbalor: damien priest, mitb holder, tag team champion and number 1 instigator.

↳dominikmysterio: Priest, no me obligues a 619 tu trasero!

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LIKED BY DOMINIK MYSTERIO, LIV MORGAN, FINN BALOR AND 3 MILLION OTHERS

y/n: we are very nice people I swear 🥰

VIEW COMMENTS

finnbalor: the nicest people I know (I'm being held against my will)

rhearipley: the both of you throw a fit whenever there are no chicken tenders on a menu

↳y/n: bc why aren't my chicken tenders there?? it should be the basis of every restaurant 🙄

↳dominikmysterio: exactly! because if a restaurant doesn't have chicken is it really a restaurant?

↳rhearipley: ....ya'll are made for each other.

dominikmysterio: I don't know why people don't like us we're literally so sweet like wtf🤨

↳y/n: exactly! idk why people in the wwe hate our guts! like what did we do to ya'll??!

↳tjdstan: didn't ya'll literally attack ilja and lyra last night 😭

↳y/n: they literally attacked us first?? are you blind? you call yourself a tjd Stan but you aren't acting like one!!

↳wwenxt: we love a gaslighting queen

↳tjdstan: I'm sorry?! 😭 but they wouldn't have hit ya'll if you guys didn't literally deck them first outta nowhere 😭

damienpriest: no lies were told

↳y/n: and that's why you are my 2nd fav 🥰

↳damienpriest: thank you chica, but why am I not first?

↳y/n: bc rhea exists??? what kind of question is that.

↳dominikmysterio: what about me, mi vida??

↳rhearipley: you heard the lady, dom.

↳y/n: sorry baby, it's the truth 🤷 better luck next time 💋

↳tjdlover: rhea x y/n wins every time dom, you need to get with the program!!!

THIS COMMENT WAS LIKED BY Y/N AND RHEA RIPLEY.

[seireitonin]

Toby has nightmares, so why does he go to Jane’s room every time this happens?

(Toby angst ft Jane)

It happened again. The memories breaking loose from Slendermans hold and invading Toby’s mind as he slept. The hold on his memories weakened after 12 years of them being kept from his mind. They’ve been coming back randomly for four years now, randomly filling Toby’s head with his past of suffering. Not only his but his mothers and sisters. He remembered everything. The bruising of Lyras skin. The begging of his mother. The fists of his father. Toby having to use his body as his sister and mother’s shield and the scars he still has from it all over his body till this day. He remembers. Everything.

He was begging in his sleep as if he was the scared 17 year old boy again. Making noises of fear and sadness. “Lyra, get behind me, please! I can’t feel it! You can! Let me protect you!” If Toby could wake up in a cold sweat he would. CIPA won’t allow him to do that. He put his head in his hands and breathed heavily. Usually Nina would be there to calm him down, but she wasn’t here tonight. Something about a rave. Toby assured her he’d be fine so she wouldn’t feel bad about being away from him all night. Part of it was pride. He didn’t want to depend on her. Didn’t want Nina to know he did need her. Didn’t want her to know the he wanted her here. He’d rather suffer alone than be so vulnerable. Part of it was his self centered and obnoxious confident nature. He’s strong he doesn’t need anyone to help him. But tonight that just wasn’t true.

He put on a shirt and made his way to Jane’s room. He knows she’s awake. She rarely sleeps. He can see her light on through the cracks of the door. He opens it and enters without knocking and closes it behind him softly, not wanting anyone else to know he’s here.

Jane had been reading, her all black eyes scanning the pages as she was under the covers of her bed. She looked up at the 29 year old man with dark brown hair, pale skin and scars all over his arms with a look of knowing. She could see the fear in his eyes and the neediness. Although Toby would never admit to it or show it, his face still blank as he looked at her. But Jane knew. She had that same look in her eyes as Mary had to comfort her through the nightmare filled sleepless nights as Jane saw Jeff taking her parents away in her head over and over. Jane knew.

“I need it Jane.” Toby said blankly and almost demanding as he stared at her.

“Need it? Toby you know this isn’t healthy. You sound like an addict. You know this makes your hallucinations worse.”

“Since when do I care about health? I need it.” He dismissed her, as he walked toward the bed she was sitting on.

Jane shut the book she was reading. “And why should I do this for you, hm? You’ve been rude since you got in here.”

Toby furrows his brows, balls his fists and squeezes his eyes shut. “Jane…..I need her. Need to see her.”

Jane looks at him, narrowing her eyes as if waiting for the magic word.

“Please.” Toby opens his eyes and un balls his fists his face going blank again.

Jane sighs. Her black hair turning blonde. Her black eyes turning bluish green. Her black lips turning a lively pink. Her pale skin turning to a peachy fair tone. Her voice changing to a higher pitched one that Toby recognized and missed all too well.

“Hello, Toby” said the pseudo Lyra in front of him. She holds out her hands for Toby to take. “I missed you.”

Toby walk over and falls to his knees in front of her, taking her hands. “Lyra. I missed you. I missed you so much.” He couldn’t help it. He will always have a soft spot for his sister. Even though in the back of his mind he knew this wasn’t real.

Lyra softly cups Toby’s face. Her hands are warm and soft like he remembered her. He looks up at her, as she looks down at him softly. Lyra was the one person Toby didn’t mind being beneath. When she looked at him like that, he’ll stay beneath her forever.

“You had a nightmare about dad huh?” the pseudo Lyra said to him softly, still cupping his face.

Toby nods. “Your skin was so bruised. I couldn’t handle seeing you that way.”

“I’m okay Toby. See? I’m okay because of you.”

“I’d do anything to protect you. You…know that right?”

“Of course I do, Toby. All you’ve ever done was protect me.”

Toby put his head in her lap.

“But I couldn’t save you from the accident.”

“No one could. It’s not your fault.”

The disguised Jane, runs her fingers through his hair.

She had replicated everything about Lyra perfectly. Down to her fingernails. Toby loved every second of it. He missed his sister so badly. This was as close as he was going to get to her ever again.

“Lyra. I love you. I love you. I love you so much” Toby just lets it all out. Everything he wishes he said more to the real one.

“…….I love you too, Toby.”

That’s the last thing Jane says as Lyra before turning back to her normal self.

Toby immediately takes his head out of her lap and stands up. His face having a look of shock and anger.

“No! Jane, damnit, bring her back!”

“Toby. That’s enough for one night.”

“Bring….her back….God! Someone bring her back….” Toby sounded like he was about to cry, but quickly stops and catches himself. He’s above that. Above the grief and pain. He’s stronger than that.

Jane hugs him.

Toby tries to resist at first, but melts into it, hugging her back.

“I know what it’s like to loose the ones you love Toby. I’m sorry.”

How Toby loves women. They’re so soft and sweet. They’ve been comforting him all his life. Nothings changed.

“Thank you….Jane.”

Toby pulls away and leaves her room. Not wanting to be any more vulnerable than he has to be. Getting back into his bed and waiting to Nina to come home and join him in it. Maybe he’ll tell her he loves her more often. Maybe not. He’ll see how he feels in a few hours.

(Once again this isn’t proof read, sorry! I think Jane canonically being able to shape shift is so cool. Also happy Monday :3)

[kanekoii]

HEYYYY :3333 TEEHEE so I was wondering if you could write about yandere Ren Zotto x Prince gn reader who has a personality similar to Furina from Genshin Impact but like. A bit more bratty ya know? Also, if you don't know Furina's personality then that's okay no worries :3 This could be headcanons, a short fic, etc I don't mind!!! It's up to you really :3 (ps: love ur work) OKKAYY BYEEE

lyra’s notes -> i literally had a yandere ren fic in my drafts omg anon your brain ily and ofc i know furina she has not left my team since i got her <3

pairing -> yandere! ren zotto x royal! furina! gn! reader

genre -> scenario, headcanons

song -> all i want is you (ft. hoshie star) - rebzyyx

warnings -> yandere, some violence, reader has a very bratty personality, i just woke up and i know nothing about royalty but an attempt was made

ever since he met you, he knew you were the only one that mattered. as a prince, it was implied that he should find another royal or noble to marry by the time he came of age. how convenient that he found you, a royal with a bratty personality that he absolutely loved. some may find it annoying or frustrating, but ren loved it.

knowing that you loved him in return wasn’t enough, as his obsession started to show through the cracks of his personality. he’s a prince, he can do what he wants. no one will bat an eye if he’s calling for the public executions of people who got too close to you on a whim. open questioning of the prince’s obsession with you may get them killed as well, so no one dared comment on it or treat it as abnormal.

as for you, your personality never annoyed or frustrated him. he thought it was adorable, really. never once did it faze him how bratty you were. you’re royalty anyway, so you’re entitled to whatever it is you want. as long as you NEVER leave his side, maybe then the executions would stop.

not that you mind, because your boyfriend is not only politically powerful, but a beautiful man as well. almost like, maybe some people wouldn’t see his obsession. holding your hand forever, making you feel special, that was all he truly wanted. even if his means to do so were…violent to say the least. anything for you, absolutely ANYTHING. never leave my side, he would say as if you had a choice at all.

[ofthornsandfury]

Open Starter - Cassandra (ft. others) || Open to All

It wasn't so much a scream as a wail; the kind of low, keening wail one typically associated with funerals. That cut through the bright, afternoon sun sending shivers down the backs of those who heard it.

It was soon followed by footsteps. Urgent, panicked footsteps -- pounding on the pavement as they made their way to the front door of the townhouse. Flinging open said door, Lyra searched for the closest adult. "Help! It's Cassie..."

[magicianapprenticelyra]

Apprenticember—DAY I

Event created by @ghoulfriendfangs​

Prompt: Introduce your apprentice!

I’m finally starting on the post(s) for my dear, dear MC.

Name: Lyra Nguyen

Personality: Friendly bookish bookworm, albeit an anxious 5 ft 6 in/167.64 cm Nonbinary Femme that is doing her best and both wants to know her forgotten past and how to figure out her uncertain future.

Appearance:

[art by @jilljoycearts]

***

(more under the cut)

[art by @theartofflorence]

***

[art by @larknnightingale and @arcxus-of-altihex, respectively]

[And there are a lot, and I mean a LOT more arts of her under my ‘depictions by others’ tag on this very blog! The images above are just of the standard Apprentice!Lyra look(s), with the exception of the second image].

[This isn’t even touching upon the twelve—yes TWELVE— different timelines concerning post Upright/Reversed endings, and then her Librarian!Timelines—where she isn’t the MC in The Arcana, and the other timelines that were made for the fun of it!]

Likes: Loved ones/her Significant Other, books, black tea (with or without milk), apple pastries, calm/quiet days, etc.

Dislikes: Lies/lying, being micromanaged, her anxiety, cooked fish (she’s terrified of choking on the bones, but in regards to the alive ones, she just loves to stare at them for ages!), the smell of most alcoholic beverages/drunkards, holier-than-thou types of people, Valdemar, etc.

If you made it this far, I appreciate you reading through all this!

[cypriathus]

Here is the first deity that I'll be sharing who's based off of real life mythology!

Hekanotius Trivazolenus is a faithful protector and a lover of solitude that expects people to act independently. There are rare, yet random instances where she comes off as insufferable, showing unbearable arrogance and conceit. She shows slightly noticeable sadistic tendencies, acting merciless and domineering towards those who mistreat virgins and children and have hubris. She’s relatively amoral, making little distinction between helping good and cruel mages. She’s highly respected amongst Æylphitus, but tends to be misunderstood by humans and most Ufrajozlens. She possesses a mysterious aura, impressive intelligence, general benevolence, and extreme cunningness. Hekanotius strongly values her independence and her natural problem-solving skills, making sense of things from a rational perspective. She personally believes that people are purely motivated by self-interest and learning how to endure hardship without showing emotion is the key to calmness. She enjoys indulging herself on an intellectual level with people who pique her curiosity, and she’s prudently watchful for anything that might go wrong. In response to unfortunate situations and people who are suffering, she feels genuine concern and an understandable motivation to help them.

She’s a 13 ft (396.24 cm) three-headed woman that has a pear-shaped ectomorphic body type with four small breasts, upper arms that carry some of her weight, and prominent thighs. She possesses deathly pale skin, partially pointed ears, rose of ultramarine eyes with blue and gold tapetum lucidum, and soft blossom lips. Her glossy black hair reaches a bit over the middle of her lower back and it has slight curls halfway through. Hekanotius has golden freckles on her two right and left faces, neck, hands, lower legs, and feet, and black claws and talons. Her front head wears a pristine ivory mask that has two black eyes, a forehead vivid violet eye with a milano red vertical pupil, emotionless blood red lips, and a gilt-brass halo disc that has a crescent on top. There are two straight, forward-facing horns that protrude from each side of the forehead and two curved horns that face upwards and are above where the ears should be placed. Her mask has saffron markings that consist of inwards-facing, slightly curving spikes underneath her black eyes. In the middle of her mask is a cross that resembles a sword with the arm being in the shape of a fleur-de-lis and a semi-circular hilt. She wears bright red sandals with a cork sole, consisting of a strap between the big toe and second toe and another around the ankle. She wears a luxurious, rippling bossanova peplos with the width gathered at the side that are used as sleeves and a starry himation of duke blue with golden constellations. These constellations include Centaurus, Delphinus, Ophiuchus, Virgo, Libra, Canis Major, Lyra, Draco, and Cygnus. There is a golden girdle encircling Hekanotius’ waist with a red Dalmatian jasper triple moon buckle. She’s surrounded by a glowing mantis green aura, and she carries two reed torches tipped with blue flames, an obsidian key, and a serpentine dagger.

She can manipulate nocturnal animals, magic, spiritual boundaries, time, Pnemazokhus, cemeteries, birth, sexual reproduction, crossroads, gates to cities, domestic doorways, tunnels, the moon, darkness, shadows, dusk, the night sky, falling stars, and destructive energy. She’s able to shapeshift into dogs, polecats, lions, snakes, frogs, horses, quails, and any nocturnal animal, and telepathically communicate with sentient beings. As a result of her dimensional travelling, she’s metaphysically allowed to traverse to Nifjazroghetus on an annual basis. She can create double gates made from shadows and spiritual essence with the strophalos of shimmering moon dust in the centre, allowing her to access her dedicated grooves and temples. Due to the connection to Hekanotius’ biological parents, she has inherited their lordship over the skies, earth, and sea. In order to perceive the future, she’s able to conduct nighttime divinations through oneiromancy, astrology, and necromancy. She can turn herself and other individuals invisible from potential threats, renew her virginity, and use the mist to create illusions. She’s capable of creating servants who are flaming-haired women with two mismatched legs, one of copper and the other is that of a donkey. These servants or “Empousai” can take on different forms to frighten people and lure men to their beds in order to feast on their flesh and blood. She’s eternally youthful and immune to coldness, overheating, tiredness, diseases, viruses, parasites, disorders, and illnesses.

FAMILY:

Unnamed destruction god or “Perses” (father)

Unnamed star and dream goddess or “Asteria” (mother)

Hepnazomus (lover)

Älkechirnobus Vlewjaktzobius Z’Gloktjebhuxisa (husband)

Iajorszhun Blemafronus (son)

Unnamed granddaughter

Woskejurda (descendent)

Æbrithomus Teracholdius (descendent)

Penamozkithus (descendent)

Hrasvelgzon (descendent)

Kethanomius (descendent)

Zaghetrokius Hrimagoltzen Rimebzolah (descendent)

Gulvakombe (descendent)

ALIASES/NICKNAMES:

Hecate

The Gracious-Minded

The Rejoicing In Deer

The Blood-Drinker

The Heart-Eater

The Radiant-Haired

Devourer of the Prematurely Dead

She Who Meets

Spinner of Webs

The Star-Walker

She of Immortal Fame

Torch-bearer

She Without Borders

The Dominating Force

The Ferocious-Aspected

Horse-speaker

Tomb-disturber

Grave-robber

Bender of Proud Necks

Saffron-cloaked

Leader of Howling Dogs

Child’s Nurse

The Hater of Vice

The Shrill-Screamer

The She-Monster

The Night-Wanderer

The Mountain-Roamer

Smiter of the Light

The Many-Named

She Who Goes Down Before All

She Who Bursts Forth From The Earth

Door-breaker

She Who Roars Like A Beast

She Who Is Encircled By Serpents

She of Fiery Counsel

Labourer of the Moon

Spreader of Madness

Mistress of Corpses

The Wolf-Formed

Nourisher of Life

Ruin-bringer

Ruddy-footed

FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION:

She’s polyamorous and heteroflexible

She’s often accompanied by a friendly-looking female black dog who was originally a queen, and a deceitful and lascivious polecat that used to be a sorceress. She’s also followed by two male African lions, three horned vipers, four female white-tailed deers, five horses, Pnemazokhus, and torch-bearing nymphs.

In her artistic depictions, she’s often shown as having four heads and holding a pair of torches.

Her closest friends are Hadeszloni, Perszuthomina, Demathonszur, Kirczeloba, Medajzon, Tirchelomanus, and Phuntemosza.

As an Æylphitus, the different parts of her name have special meanings: Hekanotius means “worker from afar” and Trivazolenus means “three ways”.

Her sacred animals are the dog, lion, polecat, snake, frog, horse, and quail.

Her sacred plants are the henna, wolfsbane, and willow tree.

Her sacred stones are Dalmatian jasper, spessartite garnet, blue alexandrite, smoky topaz, anorthosite, larvikite, and indicolite.

Ghosts, grimoires, objects of magic, paired flaming torches, triple moon, a key, a dagger, and the crossroads are her sacred symbols.

[abandoned-by-destiny]

Meet the OCs: Lyra Amidala Naberrie

piccrew made by: @malachitinous

Biographical Information

Homeworld: Naboo

Born: 40 BBY

Occupation: Jedi Knight

Physical Description

Species: human

Gender: cis female

Height: 1.7 meters (5 ft 7 in)

Hair color: dark brown

Eye color: brown

Skin color: light

Chronological Information

40 BBY: Born

38 BBY: Taken to the Jedi Temple

29 BBY: Becomes Plo Koon’s padawan

25 BBY: Passed the Jedi Healer Trials

22 BBY: Passed the Knighthood Trials

22 BBY: Becomes a General in the Grand Army of the Republic

General Information

Affiliations

Jedi Order

Jedi Healer

Jedi Knight

Grand Army of the Republic

Jedi General with the 104th Battalion

Master

Plo Koon

[lyranova]

Ehy Lyra! These are for the ask game, you don't need to answer if you're not comfortable...

1) What is the first anime/manga that you have watched/read?

2) How much time have you been writing?

3) What is that made you begin writing?

Thank you and have a nice day!

Hiya Leleny 😁! Of course, and these questions don’t make me uncomfortable at all so I’m more than happy to answer them 🥰!

1.) The first anime I watched was Black Butler! I remember my sister showing me clips of it back in 2009-2010 and I finally got to watch the series in 2016 since there were multiple anime’s i wanted to watch instead of just one 😆! The first manga I read was Fairy Tail 100 Years Quest 😁, FT is my comfort anime so when I saw that a sequel was coming out I had to read it. I think it’s also being turned into an anime but I’m not to sure 🤔!

2.) I’ve been writing off and on for…12 years now 👀! I took a break when I was 13-15 then started back up before taking another break from 17-22, so right now I’ve only been writing for 2 years but when I total up all the years (including breaks) it’s been 12 years 😁!

3.) Hm…I honestly think reading is what made me want to begin writing 🤔. Seeing all these amazing characters and reading about these amazing worlds made me want to be apart of it and made me want to bring happiness and joy to others just like these authors did for me! So i think that’s what made me want to write and is what still makes me want to write 🥰!

You’re welcome and I hope you have a good day as well 🥰!

[kobold-wizard]

We’ll see if this P2E game ever actually comes together but while talking about it i have come up with the character I would play.

While i have joined many different TTRPG groups the average group fizzles out after 2-3 months. From all these campaigns i have only ever played a kobold once for but two sessions. Shameful really

Long notes ahead about Bri the alchemist kobold

So for this i would absolutely play a kobold. At first i wanted to play a champion, the divine tank with a magic sword. A tall kobold (3.5 ft WOW) named Cannoli picked for ‘elite’ kobold training because she was above average in height, essentially picked for the basketball team just because. This ‘bold would then receive the best training and nutrition for what would be the squad leaders in the dragon Empyres army of kobolds, Empyre’s strategy is mostly throw enough kobolds at a problem to solve it. So this ‘bold is trained up to be the ideal warrior unquestioning of command and champions honor and duty. Not unintelligent but certainly not an academic education.

Thing is i like the idea of this proud, heavily armored kobold but im in a long running TTRPG where i play a himbo surfer and i want to do something more different from that.

Thus enter Cannoli’s sister. This bold is also considered tall (3.3 ft) but has a cosmetic effect like leucism meaning not true albino but has pigment loss from full piebald to only some patches. Because of this perceived defect this ‘bold is rejected and sent away for general labor. We talked and i liked the idea of kobolds being mainly used to fetch things for dragons like protect shipments of spices or wine.

So i thought it would be fun to have this ‘bold be a working at a vineyard crushing grapes. She would purposely stain her scales red to cover up the white patches on purpose. This would be a growth point later as she comes to terms with this kobold eugenics program the emypre is running. Under this dragon it has an unusually high hatchling survival rate but thats to just have more live kobolds to serve as cannon fodder or lost in transportation.

At the winery this bold would mentor under the brewmaster and get a better education outside of the propaganda kobolds are fed. This leads into the alchemist class, an intelligence based class. Looking at names i think ive settled on Degrees Brix (DB ir Brix or Bri for short) This is a measure of soluable solids like sugar in wine, its measured to check how much sugar is left for fermentation in conjunction with a hydrometer which measures % alcohol.

From this education Bri gets a better picture of the politics and what its really like outside the draconian influence. Becomes clever, more investigative. Learns to be dishonest and think about things.

Why become an adventure? Why in campaign would Bri choose violence? I want Bri to be a murderer before being an adventurer. Just so its not an insane shift from “i made alcohol before this” to session one straight up killing a random guard/goblin/bandit.

Very TBD but im thinking its like fragging ur superior officer. Like the army come to town and draft/abduct kobolds to fill gaps in rank. Then either its while escaping throw a Molotov at the leader or its after a fight with heavy losses. Names of the dead aren’t recorded as kobold lives aren’t valued as such. Also its a weird army culture thing of don’t remember the dead.

Listen I don’t wanna rp being shocked at killing generic bandit, would rather do a surprisingly quiet and determined murder. Like how in His Dark Materials Lyra Silvertongue consulted the aelithiometer if she could trust Will and it responded with that he was a murderer. She then thought “good. I can trust him” , like Ioric Bjoronison the armored bear king. Still wild to me she saw that as a good sign. Hmmm weirdly enough Malcom in the sequel series the book of dust Mal is also a killer that saved baby lyra.

Tempting to do unreliable narrator murderer like my blorbo Mycroft Canner but i think thats too much for a TTRPG player character.

Right so Cannoli would be my one NPC to give to the GM and personal quest would be to reconnect with estranged sibling (stationed somewhere or find them if its like a they were lost in battle unconfirmed dead)

Degree Brix, Bri the alchemist kobold

Strengths

-intelligent, chemistry background, stealth for investigative B&E.

Flaws

-jaded, self esteem issues with appearance, feels very conflicted about home and culture

[shopsyplannet]

Champions Ecom FANI-LIT Made in India Green Screen Background Photo Video Studio Backdrop for YouTube Live Gaming Online Teaching Animated Videos, 8 x 12 ft

Champions Ecom FANI-LIT Made in India Green Screen Background Photo Video Studio Backdrop for YouTube Live Gaming Online Teaching Animated Videos, 8 x 12 ft

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[ophcliaswrites]

Do you even feel remorse? There was no one protecting me, Ginny. No one.

Brianne Howey as Georgia Miller in Ginny & Georgia 2.03 ‘What Are You Playing at, Little Girl?’

[sapphoslibrary]

This wasn’t on the prompt list but it’s my favorite word, so have a prompt for Willow and Lyra: defenestration—the act of throwing a person or thing out a window

anything for you, wish. i tried.

Dark green curtains brush against my side as I lean over the edge of the window. A vase of dead flowers sits next to me, the ones Lyra brought on our first date. Cosmos from her mom’s huge garden. They were beautiful for months, but slowly became more and more neglected, forgotten about and left to rot.

One by one, I pluck the petals off the plant, throwing them over the edge of the window. Watching them fall four stories to the ground. Seeing them become smaller and smaller until they’re practically nothing from this distance.

Tiny flower petals float through the air, drifting in the wind for a few seconds before falling to the ground one at a time. Some are completely dead, crumbling between my fingers before I even have time to throw them. Some are still somewhat alive. Either way, the plant is far from salvageable.

When more than half the plant is gone, I hear Lyra get home— struggling with the lock, as she always does. After a couple seconds, the key retracts with a scraping sound, and the door opens.

“Willow?” Lyra says, slowly stepping closer, her smile clear in her voice. “You good?”

I look up at her, smiling back. “Yeah. Good,” I gesture to the flowers. “Mama Montana’s cosmos are, ah... a bit dead.”

Lyra crouches beside me, letting the stack of books in her arms thump to the floor. She touches one of the petals, and it immediately falls apart. “Oh, yeah, they are. Tragic. When’s the funeral?”

I laugh, plucking off another petal, letting it fall. “No funeral, I don’t think. Been working on destroying the evidence for about an hour now,” I explain casually.

Lyra cocks an eyebrow and picks off a petal for herself. She rests it in the palm of her hand, then blows it out the window. “Seems like a fantastic use of time,” she mumbles.

“Hm. I say it is,” I shrug, chucking two over the edge at once.

Lyra takes one of the now-bare stems, and throws it with all her strength, so far it nearly hits the next building. She smiles slightly to herself, and I smile back. “You seem like you’ve got some training in defenestration,” I say, amused.

Lyra shrugs. “Who doesn’t? It’s a very useful skill to have. You never know when you’re going to have to... I don’t know, throw a bad guy out the window?”

“Sure, babe,” I say, shaking my head fondly. “Well, if you’d like to join me, I could use an accomplice.”

“Fine,” Lyra says, taking up another stem between her fingers. “I could stand to up my defenestration game.”

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

[encrucijada]

DISASTERS TO SLEEP THROUGH by ester cuervos

✶ genre: low fantasy, cosmic horror maybe?? ✶ category: adult ✶ pov: first person referral (marilú as “i”, cruz as “you”) ✶ inspired entirely by this, cartoon saloon’s song of the sea but make it dark and gritty??, also taking inspiration from over the garden wall for the tone, unhinged women all around, set in 1986 just because, let us ignore the technicalities of running a lighthouse, i think this is magical realism but i’m unsure ✶ cw: thalassophobia, body horror, emotional manipulation, mental illness ✶ themes: loneliness, family, fear of the unknown, co-existing with the unknown ✶ tone: eerie, isolated, apprehensive, cutting, blue hour

a b o u t : marilú is a lighthouse keeper, has been for almost a decade now. she could count the people she talks to with one hand, one of those being her older sister galatea. the only consistent company she’s had are her dreams and the creatures of the ocean, shadows under the water, sirens on the rocks. when dealing with her divorce, galatea leaves her daughter cruz with marilú until the matter is resolved. to spare cruz from getting hurt or scared, marilú tries to keep her asleep until galatea comes back.

c h a r a c t e r s :

✶ marilú. a nonbinary aro/ace because i like to live vicariously through my ocs. spends more time with creatures than humans so she has lost all her communication and social skills. “do as i say not as i do.” weird girls simply grow to be weird adults. good intentions but bad execution.

✶ galatea. voted less likely to get caught committing a crime. energy of a sophisticated lady wearing a wide-rim hat tied with lace under her chin, having lunch on a balcony in the mediterranean. suffering from older daughter syndrome. gaslight gatekeep girlboss.

✶ cruz. hard of hearing (wears hearing aids). inspired by lyra silvertongue from his dark materials. bratty and feral the way only little girls manage to be. more like her aunt than she apparently realises. hasn’t had a near death experience yet so feels invincible.

aesthetic: stark white lighthouse on a rocky island, a dark blue ocean and a grey sky, houses so close to the water they get touched by the waves, flickering light bulbs, raindrops on windows refracting light, water so cold it numbs your hands when you wash them, charcoal drawings that make no sense, old music boxes, old plush toys with not nearly enough stuffing, something scurrying within the walls, grainy shows on a box television set, the chill of blue hour, the feeling of minuscule insignificance, a beach of rocks and grey-brown sand, phone static cutting through words, cheap plastic signs of corner stores and restaurants lit from within, driving along a long bridge over the water, a massive figure from the ocean depth, the crushing feeling of loneliness, so many thoughts you can’t breathe

playlist: before we drift away / nothing but thieves ; doing the right thing / daughter ; deep water / american authors ; the lighthouse / halsey ; hiding in the blue / thefatrat ft. riell ; my mother told me / nati dredd ; deep end / ruelle ; arsonist’s lullabye / hozier ; made of stone / daughter ; we must be killers / mikky ekko ; bedtime / annie eve ; sleep / the last bison ; shallows / daughter ; city lights / the hollow man ; black water / of monsters and men ; sirens / fleurie ; you / keaton henson ; neon brother / nothing but thieves ; winter / daughter ; home / daughter ; the weight / amber run ; the ghost on the shore / lord huron ; the unwanted animal / the amazing devil ;

[zs-firefly]

My au BF's as of now. I've drawn HiguFNF, PibbyCorruption and Unnamed AU BF which I refer to as Injured!BF for now. Though i haven't actually officially drawn Forgotten Trauma BF because I forgot i even had that. I barely even have plot for it though.

I can give some info though. Like. FT!BF's name is Severie, with most used nicknames, BF or Bee. The youngest BF out of all four. As you can tell, he loves bees. He's externally(or generally) nice but he is actually pretty wary of everyone who he doesn't trust. He'll most probably help you if you ask for help, but don't expect him to keep being friendly if he finds out you're using him. Or if you decided to generally be a dick to him. Highly likely to kill you if you piss him off. Au title suggests that his brain locks away unwanted memories. 'Forgotten'.

Injured!BF's name is Lyre, though i haven't really confirmed it, still thinking. Most used nicknames are BF or Blueberry. He is somewhat similar in the sense that he cannot remember what happened to him. Majority of his body has been damaged, except for the face since its just his left eye. The cloth covering his eye important to him. The ribbons on his wrists not so much but it does reduces his anxiety. If any of his injuries are exposed, it'll start burning. He'll be in major pain, and the injuries itself will start smoking red. Which is why he wears clothes that completely covers him. Bandages sure but it doesn't stop him from worrying. It doesn't hurt much in the dark though. It must be like, 12am, windows are closed kind of dark. Side note, he loves playing the Lyra because its comforting. I swear his name choice isn't because of the Lyra.

HigurashiFNF is kinda self-explanatory if you've seen the anime itself. BF is Rika in this case. Of course there's plenty of differences too. Like Hanyuu not being there at all so our boy's going through this alone. I also made it so that when BF is close to giving up, Pico ends up helping him out. Man's got dragged into the fragment realm with BF because they died right next to each other. Killed at the same time. Anyway, his name is Nozomei but he goes by BF. Most used nicknames is BF and Mei, but Mei is only used by Pico & Nene. Though GF calls him Nova sometimes. Extra info for fun is that he's not afraid to die nor kill.

Lastly is PibbyCorruption!BF which ya'll would know from my loads of other pictures in this main blog or my blog specifically for this au lmao. He doesn't have a name yet because I cant decide. Sterling is what came to mind but its unconfirmed for now. Most used nicknames is BF & Blue. Thoguh they're kinda like, names for split personalities. Go read my fanfics for info huhu. He's able to engage in combat, still does rap battles, if only to stall/distract his enemies or even attempt to save them somehow. Exhausted like hell but still kicking because he has no choice. Likely due to lack of sleep(night patrols and he doesn't switch because he's too anxious to sleep), and worries too much. Longer hair than the rest because his pals says ke e p i t.

Generally no shipping because-