#i love my kids so much i'm weeping

[flockrest]

thinks about tu.lin and all the healthy influences in his life that have helped shape, nurture, and strengthen his drive and confidence for all of two seconds before just. blubbering

[rodolfoparras]

ah your professor price drabble done killed me i'm so insane about him.

i love professor student dynamics but they almost always have sub/bottom reader if you can even find male reader which is just... yeah. BUT YOUR WRITING OH MY GODS. it's edible i'm literally gnawing on professor price who finally found a student to challenge him and immediately wants to fuck. so valid. i too am attracted to people who are willing to have academic banter with me, price, you're so real.

also imagine fucking him over his desk after hours and joking about it being for extra credit he would be so annoyed dnajndakd

-🪔

Genuinely nothing brings me more joy than taking stereotypical tropes and roles and swapping them around because why not I want body guard/ royalty trope where price is the royalty and falls for the body guard I want professor price who’s head over heels for a student I want secretary loser price falling for ceo reader

Pt 1 of professor!Price x student!reader

Cw: age gap, reader is in his 20s!!!, professor student relationship, power dynamics, price is a bit of a creep, 18+

Okay but hear me out… jealous professor!Price

Price doesn’t like you. He couldn’t- shouldn’t. He’s a professor and you’re his student. If anything, these little fantasies were just that, fantasies, a way of getting through a boring work day.

Was it wrong? Sure. But it’s not like he plans on acting on them so might as well indulge in them.

Fuck he sounds like a perverted old man but he can’t find it in himself to care as he unbuttons his pants, takes his weeping cock in his hand, while thinking of your interactions from the day, can’t help but wear a plug to work, stretching the tight ring of muscles, preparing himself as if you’d fuck him after the lecture, can’t help but live off of these fantasies til he gets home for the day, and fucks himself with one of his dildos while imaging it’s your cock instead.

Fantasies.

That’s what it is.

Nothing more nothing less.

However he finds himself less sure about his feelings when he’s one day standing at the front of the lecture hall, arms crossed and brow raised, staring at the random student sitting a bit too close to you.

“Professor Price I have a question…”

The sound of another student’s voice snaps him out of his trance, heat creeping up his face and and vehemently avoiding your questioning gaze while proceeding to answer the student’s question.

Later on when the lecture ends he notices you and the same student from earlier walking out together. Price proceeds to packs up his stuff, all while continuously thinking about who that student was.

He hasn’t seen this kid hanging out with you before. The fact that the two of you were friends seemed so bizarre since- No. He shouldn’t dwell on it. He had no business questioning who you were and weren’t friends with. Besides he couldn’t be jealous now right? He didn’t like you that way. He didn’t like you at all.

That random student’s name turned out to be Tim and in a short amount of time you’d become very close friends with him to the point where you and him would be whispering about in class. Price would purposely interrupt your discussion with a question thinking you wouldn’t be able to answer him but you’d always be prepared, sounding and looking as confident as ever while answering his question and - fuck he couldn’t help the blood rushing to his dick as you confidently answered him. You were so clever, so confident and he couldn’t help but like that about you.

Like.

There it was, the word again and he swallows it down like his pride as he continues on with his lecture, allowing you and Tim to return to your discussion.

But he mulls over the word again when he sits all alone in the lecture hall eating his lunch because you and Tim were “going to grab something together”.

As much as Price hated to admit it, he did miss your presence at lunch. Sure you’d chatter his ear off and leave traces of your lunch all over the desk but Price enjoyed the company.

He enjoyed the fact that someone took interest in his lecture- in him after so many years.

He enjoyed having discussions with you even though you’d question everything he said.

And he enjoyed your company at lunch no matter what else he may say.

Weeks passed without the two of you interacting much.

It was better off this way, Price thinks to himself.

Fantasies, that all it was anyway, repeats it so much to himself so that the next time he sees you sitting in one of the extra chairs, legs propped on his desk and eating away at some poor excuse of lunch you made, he thinks that’s a fantasy as well.

He doesn’t ask about Tim and you don’t say anything so Price proceeds to work through the stack of assignments that had been piling up on his desk while silently allowing himself to enjoy this moment.

But soon enough reality hits him in the face or maybe it was when you randomly mentioned Tim that the damn burst inside of him and the words came flowing out of him.

“You should ask the lad out”

“Huh?” You say, seemingly confused by his choice of words since you’d been complaining about morning lectures just seconds before this.

“Tommy?” He tries again, pushing away from his desk, arms now folded over his chest.

You look at him in confusion before it clicks “Tim”

He nods his head, feeling slight annoyance at hearing the name but tries to not let it show on his face. “You should ask him out”.

“Why do you say that?”

“You seem to like him” Price shrugs, seemingly much less confident as he busies himself with cleaning off the stray crumbs you left on his desk.

“Yeah?” Price doesn’t even notice the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Come on kid I’m old but I’m that not old. It’s obvious that you like him.” He says before dumping the pile of crumbs into the trash can.

“Never said you were,” you say completely ignore the latter statement as you smile at him.

For a second Price freezes in place, heat creeping up his face before he clears his throat and looks away. “Either way you should ask him out,”

“I don’t like him” you say with a shrug, still smiling at the older man.

Price scoffs at that.

“You do an awful job at lying, flirting too,”

“Why do you say so?” You say with a small smile on your face neither denying or confirming his suspicions which leaves him feeling tensed

“Well to start off, you’re spending your free time with some old man when you could be with Tom-Tim right now,”

“What if I want to do that though?”

He only scoffs in response, “you don’t want that,”

“I do, though,” you say, sounding firm as ever and for one second it sounds like you’re talking about something else, something he’s been trying to deny for the past months and the implication leaves him speechless and frozen in place, trying to process what you’d just said.

“Professor Price?”

[exhaslo]

hey in the mean time I wanted to request something sweet but spicy 😋, so what about (collage?)

Bully!miguel ? X a nobody!fem reader (like someone that the popular kids doesn’t even know about or care into that much offend 😔 and is often bullied by different people and get in the middle of the fight, well tried not to and only get push,nudge, or whatever) and Miguel who is a bullied nerd and saw her one day that catch his eyes it was reader who’s was running into her next period.

Smut pls and fluff PLS 😭🙏 (love any ending 🫶😼) HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY! bye eshalo (I think I spelled it wrong 😔 I’m sorry)

Okay, I think I got a unique idea for this. Gonna spice it up a bit if that's okay~ ;)

Summary: The biggest bully in school had got his eye on the 'ghost' of the college.

Warning: Minors DNI, bullying, smut, fingering, oral (f-receiving)

-----------

There was a popular rumor throughout the college of a ghost that wandered the halls. At first, many people did not believe it since the rumor had only begun a year ago; but, as the weeks passed more and more people saw the ghost. It became a game after two months. Whoever can catch the ghost will win a prize.

It was all fun and games until you found out that you were the ghost. The tears that streamed down your face that night were heavy. You knew that you avoided people and didn't like to get involved, but to be called a ghost. This was worse than the bullying you had throughout middle school and high school.

It only got worse from there. You were afraid to do anything. Every time you stepped out of your private dorm, people could claim they saw the ghost and tried to catch you. You nearly weep every time you even tried to go study. It was all a joke to everyone.

"I hate this," You cried softly as you sat in the staircase of your dorm building.

"Hate what?"

"Being called the ghost." You whimpered. It took you a moment before gasping, "W-Who's there?"

You rubbed your eyes as Miguel walked up the stairs. Your eyes widen in shock. The college's biggest bully stood right below you. His tall and overwhelming features standing out. He gave you a cold stare as he observed you from head to toe.

"You're a pretty cute ghost,"

Miguel smirked as he watched you flinch. Truth be told, Miguel knew exactly who you were. He had his eyes on you since you started this college. Miguel had bullied a lot of people, but watching you get bullied erked him. He wanted to be the shoulder for you to cry on, but how could he approach you? He already had a bad reputation.

"Y-You're-"

"Miguel O'Hara, pleasure to meet you."

Within an instant, Miguel hovered before you. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. You withdrew your hand, walking backwards towards the wall. Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you tried to come up with words. He was too close.

"So the ghost can be touched," Miguel said with a smug grin. You bit your lower lip,

"I-I'm not a ghost!"

"I know you're not," Miguel had your back pressed against the wall, "I've had my eye on you for a while now. I want to get to know you. Will you let me do that?"

You gulped as you looked up into his eyes. The biggest threat in this campus wanted to get close to you? As scared as you were, you couldn't help but agree. This was going to be your way of having protection. Besides, Miguel was good looking. Perhaps with him around, you wouldn't be called a ghost anymore.

--------

It had only been a month since Miguel became your personal bodyguard as you called it. He stuck by your side like glue, keeping you company and helping you avoid those pranksters. You loved having Miguel by yourself. He made you laugh and helped you come out of your shell. Not to mention he was hot. You had dreamed about him far too many times to count, but it wasn't like you were going to make a move anytime soon.

Miguel on the other hand was holding back so much. He wanted to press you against a wall and ravish you with kisses. He wanted to mark you as his. To make you scream his name. Miguel was ready to go all primal on you. Every time he hung out with you, he had to take care of his erection afterwards. You were just so quiet, so shy. He loved hearing your voice.

Today was going to be like any other day. Miguel had already taken care of some annoying pests and was ready to destress with you. He made his way over to your dorm, imagining the smile on your face. Right as he walked up the stairs, he heard sobbing. Those sobs belonged to you!

"(Y/N)! What's wrong?" Miguel asked.

You whimpered, rubbing your eyes as Miguel stood before you. You could see the anger on his face as he slowly approached you, taking the net off your head. He bend down and stroked your cheek before taking off some of the rope that got tangled around your arms and legs.

"I-I just...I just went to check on my mail..." You cried softly. Miguel shushed you, helping you up, "T-They just laughed."

"C'mon, let's go into your room."

Miguel took your key and opened your door. He let you in first before following and shutting the door behind. With a quick lock, he approached you once more and wiped your tears away.

"Don't cry, (Y/n)."

"But Miguel, they still think I'm a ghost." You whimpered. Miguel let out a soft sigh as he leaned forward, kissing you,

"Can I do that to a ghost?"

"N-No?"

"What about this?"

Miguel's hand stroked down your sides as he kept kissing you. You're sad whimpers turned into pleasure ones as Miguel cheered you up. His soft touch was not what you were expecting. It sent shivers up your spine. His tongue licked your lips, demanding entrance. You obeyed, allowing him to bully you for once.

Miguel liked how easily you gave in. His gaze met with yours as he slid your shorts down. His bulge making contact with your panties, grinding against you softly. He didn't want to take things too far, but who knows what will happen. Miguel watched you gasp, holding onto his arms as he moved his hips against yours.

"Can a ghost feel this?" Miguel groaned lowly, his fingers rubbing circles against your clit.

"N-No~"

"Good. I'm going to treat you right, (Y/N). I'll show those guys that they messed with the wrong person. You're my girl."

"H-Hah~ Miguel~"

You whimpered a moan as you moved your hips against his hand. Your back arched against the bed as his fingers started to pump inside your tight gummy walls. His fingers alone were stretching you out. It made your vision blur slightly as you became overwhelmed with pleasure. Each pump and curl of his fingers made the knot in your stomach tighten.

Miguel licked his lips as he took your panties off, throwing them across your room. He watched as your juices spilled over his hand once he made you cum. Your face was red with embarrassment. It was cute. Miguel took his fingers out, giving them a lick,

"Ghosts can't be this cute or red in the face," He teased.

"M-Miguel." You stuttered, trying to hide your face.

Miguel only responded with a hum as he spread your legs. You tried to protest, but gasped loudly as he flicked his tongue against your clit. You arched your back, moaning his name as Miguel held you in place. His tongue swirling around your folds, giving each part of you a taste. No ghost could taste this sweet. No ghost could moan this deliciously.

"M-Mig!"

Your cries were music to his ears. Miguel was going to make this school regret bullying you. You were his. Miguel lapped up your juices as you cam against his tongue. Your throbbing pussy was just asking to be filled, but that had to wait. Miguel had already pushed you to your limit for today.

"Rest up, (Y/n). I promise I'll make you feel even better next time, but I have to teach someone a lesson," Miguel hummed as he licked his lips. You were a panting mess against your bed,

"B-But-"

"I won't let anyone bully you again. You're my girl. Now stay here until I get back. I'm going to finish this later."

You just nodded and blushed madly as you saw his tight erection against his pants. Covering your face, you watched as Miguel left your room with his head held high. You whimpered quietly, still flustered from the orgasm he gave you,

"I'm your ghost~"

------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you liked the twist I did with your prompt!!

[hedwig221b]

For the fic recs, anything with babies please? Or just pregnant stiles?

I'm weeping I love kid!fics and mpreg!Stiles...

👶

Of Puppy Piles and Sugar Dreams by StarShineForMe

In which Isaac and Scott get de-aged, the pack must learn to bond and protect their own, and Derek ("Dewek!") and Stiles ("Sti-ewes!") are mates…even if it takes them forever and two toddlers to realize it.

“Oh, God.” Stiles buries his face in his hands, water dripping down his wrists.

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Derek whips out a towel, wrapping it around Stiles’ forearms, pulling them away from Stiles’ body so he can look them over.

“I’m fine,” Stiles says, a little blankly. Erica and Boyd have set Issac and Scott back onto the floor, tickling them both into fits of giggles. He huffs out a noise that’s not quite a whimper, not quite a laugh. “Just wondering when the hell I ended up in my very own episode of ‘Teen Mom’.”

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

The Alpha and his Spark by sandyde03

Stiles is pregnant. Derek is perpetually horny and possessive. Stiles is confused. Not by Derek sexing him up. He loves that. It’s the fact that ever since he started to show that he was with pup everyone has been avoiding his eyes.

Loving Isaac by QueenOfAngst21

A regular patrol around their land takes a turn for the worse when Derek and Isaac run into a unwanted visitor. Just when Derek thinks they are in the clear, he wakes to find not his beta beside him but a crying blonde haired baby right where he left Isaac. The pack stumbles over themselves as their alpha and emissary navigate this new dynamic and find each other along the way.

Last To Know by Never_Says_Die

Kink meme fill in which every werewolf and shapeshifter in Beacon Hills is aware that Stiles is pregnant before he is. And apparently the first baby!werewolf being born into the pack (their Alpha's, no less) is a big freakin' deal and excuse enough for everyone to lose their damn minds. When Stiles figures out why everyone's been acting so weird around him, he's not amused.

An Alpha's Baby by Dexterous_Sinistrous

It had been more than a year since Stiles had been home to Beacon Hills. Things didn't end well between him and Derek. And now, returning with a baby, Stiles starts to question if he really did the right thing and leave, or if he should have stayed.

Let your unfaithful weaving go by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Every night Stiles goes into the feasting hall to work on the shroud he is making for his husband, knowing that the alphas circle him like sharks until he is inevitably forced to choose one to stand as his alpha and Eli's regent.

It's been four years and he doesn't know how much longer he can do this.

Fire, Fury, and Flame by IAmAVeronica

Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm.

Awesome.

And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts.

Joy.

Shifts by gryvon

Stiles has what he's always secretly wanted - he's in a relationship with Derek and he's one of Derek's betas - but all that gets turned upside down when Gerard kidnaps him and his unexpected baby.

Be Strong by blacktofade

A hunter breaks into Stiles' house and Stiles deals with them.

Safe Place to Land by Green

The Hales have been tracking a group of hunters who've targeted small packs with the help of a magic user. When they finally attack the hunter compound, they aren't expecting to find Stiles, a Spark who's practically a slave, and his young werewolf son. Derek isn't expecting the Spark to be his mate, either.

Wolf Cub by moodwriter

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

Karma Is A Bitch by Brego_Mellon_Nin

Ironically, Stiles was just returning to his dorm after failed negotiations about a possible adoption agreement with a local pack, when he saw the fairy. She was cornered and he was unable to curb his protective instincts.

The fight was short and Stiles was left with only a blooming bruise on his jaw when the bullies scurried away. As a thank you, the fairy wanted to grant him a wish.

Who knew what a bit of fairy fertility magic could do?

Empty by DiscontentedWinter

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles

[marys2ndson]

hunting fucking sucks: a fic rec list

I just love when their lives suck not because they’re vessels for archangels or whatever, but just because their job is the worst. thankless, dangerous, morally ambiguous, leaving them injured and dirty and bone-tired. i <3 whump

Due East by sowell (4,700 words)

Just hunts and angst and them, together. Love the characterization. 

“I think I like you injured. Less bitchy,” Dean says with a smile, and Sam blinks at him. / “What?” / “You think I haven’t noticed you sulking for two days straight?”

Hard to Come By by sevenfists (1,700 words)

Hunting, driving around, sleeping in shitty motels. Making difficult choices, dealing with hard realities. 

"You don't smoke," Sam says, and Dean says, "What's it look like I'm doing?" The cigarette tastes like ass. He smokes it anyway, tapping the ash out the open window. It's August. Sam turns up the air conditioning. Dean turns it back down.

Below Breath by kalliel (3,100 words)

Season 2, case fic. Love the complete lack of exposition. You’re just thrown into it on Dean’s terms, and everything is complicated and difficult and unknown. 

Dude, he says, and shoves you in the back with his shotgun. You resist the urge to turn around and smack him with it. Or kiss him, all teeth. See how much he’s paying attention then. 

Every Rhyme Without Reason by kalliel (44,800 words) 

Season 1, case fic, Sam POV. Fascinating and atmospheric and a tough read bc Sam’s life is very uphill at this point, but he’s so present, wrestling and grappling with it. Love him. <3

Maybe they killed that rawhead, released that reaper, slashed that bax'aan's throat. Maybe they'll kill this thing in Rime. But this is what's gonna get them: They have $127.34, four more nights, half a tank of gas, and some cold leftovers to their name. Out here, there's nowhere to go but down; and even then, they're going to have to limp.

With Gravy by kalliel (3,700 words)

Vague season 2. A hunt gone wrong. Slim chances of survival, complete darkness, pain, and heroism. 

The tunnel stretches on and on, and all Dean hears is their footsteps getting heavier, sloppier. One kid cries. The woman cries. The man's leg doesn't quite clear some jutting rocks, and he weeps.

The Real Thing by ameliacareful (14,200 words)

Jensen wakes up in a motel room in Dean’s place. So outsider POV. That thing about the third trial, about Tom and Shep… Kill me. 

“Are you doing that on purpose?” / “What?” / “Sounding like him?” / “A little. Does it work?” Jensen asked. / Sam did that funny little flicker of a smile/grimace that Jared only did as Sam. “Yeah, it does.” His gaze hardened. “Don’t do it again.” / Sam was suddenly very big. Armed. / “Gotcha,” Jensen said.

Catch Your Death by road_rhythm (22,300 words)

They work a ghost hunt while Sam’s sick. This fucks severely! All their petty fights and their biases and bickering really get the spotlight they deserve, as well as the fact that they just really love and care about each other. Feels exactly like a really good ep of s2. And takes up some of the interesting Sam issues as well.

It was this, every time. Sam lashed out and Dean came back with impenetrable patience and washcloths and medicine and touch and one day it would be his life. And there was no answering back to that.

my habit of breaking hearts as soon as i have them by acccording2thelore (6,600 words)

WARNING: major character death. 

A hunt gone wrong. Staggering grief and horror mixed with intimacy and connection. <3 

If he can just get to Garth, he can send up some of his people and help carry Sam to the base of the mountain. Dean won’t make it that far.

the blurriness of being alive by hathfrozen (3,500 words)

WARNING: major character death. 

Sam dies of an infection.

“They don’t get to grieve for him,” Dean tells Miracle when he decides he isn’t calling anybody to tell them. “They ain’t allowed. They don’t get it.” Dean’s had the worst things in the known universe leeching off of him, trying to turn him into evil, but this is the most rotten, meanest he’s ever felt. He doesn’t fucking care.

A Lifetime or Two by nigeltde (18,400 words)

They work a case with their mom; Sam gets banged up; they try something new. This fic feels so real and lived in. The familiarity between Sam and Dean, the way Sam feels left out, Sam’s quiet loneliness and enduring hope, Dean’s desperate affection. <3

Sam would say lucky it was just broken bones. Lucky nothing else cut too deep. Lucky his ear was intact. Dean gets lost, strung out, trying to calculate: if Sam had been concussed, would that still be good luck? If he’d lost the finger, should Dean be thankful? Where does it end, the tallying? Sam thrown through glass, dragged across pavement, tossed into a car, stitched up in this cramped doll’s house of a room, having to bluntly endure; this is what he’s supposed to be grateful for?

Settle Down My Shivered Bones by abitingsmile (4,800 words)

WARNING: disordered eating, food insecurity, and child neglect. 

Pre-series. John, unreliable and off hunting somewhere, and Sam and Dean, making it work with too little cash and too little food. Love this exact flavor of codependency, not sweet, but hard-earned and for survival. 

Sam still bickered with him about school and television and laundry, but not about food. Hell, he practically waited for Dean to give him permission to eat, because that way they knew there’d be enough. John or no, this was something incredibly important they could control, they could handle. John simply wasn’t in the loop anymore.

[shrimparted]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY R- what the hell do you mean I’m two days late

[ID: A Mob Psycho 100 comic set post-canon. Mob, depicted with chin-length hair and wearing a skirt, says to Ritsu, "I just haven't been able to think of a gift he'd actually like. And I want it to be special, cause this time he'll expect the party."

She looks down with a frown. "Especially since Teru accidentally added him to the group chat." Ritsu laughs with a "Hah!" and says, "I do have an idea, if you want to hear it." Mob smiles tiredly and says, "Please." Ritsu says, "Okay, but it's a pretty big gift so we should check in with everyone."

Teru, shown with hair past his shoulders, exclaims happily, "Yes!! I think he would love that!" Tome grins and says, "Oh my gosh, yess! Maybe we'll actually see him cry this time, hah!" Shou looks interested and says, "Oh for sure! I actually know a place we can find one!" Serizawa smiles, "I'm pretty sure his new lease allows pets!" Dimple squints and says, "… How do you know that," and Serizawa says, "How about we stop talking for a little while."

Next, marked "a few days later:", we see Reigen opening the door to Spirits and Such. The door creaks open, and he screams with terror when people loudly go, "Happy birthday!" We see scenes of the party: Reigen sweating and grimacing as Tome offers a cake with Ritsu laughing in the background, Serizawa and Reigen smiling fondly at each other with a heart floating between them, and Reigen looking dead-eyed as everyone photographs him and his cake-covered face.

Reigen, now cleaned of cake, flops on the couch and smiles, "Wow! All that's missing now is a present!" He sweatdrops. "… I can feel you all staring. Then he exclaims "Oh!" at the sight of all the kids looking happy and excited. Mob is in the center, smiling with anticipation and holding a box about the size of a large shoebox.

Reigen takes it with a fond smile, saying, "Aw, kids… I was joking but this is really--" He breaks off with a shocked sound as something shifts within the box. He holds the box away from himself and says flatly, "Is this a prank--" but is cut off by a laughing Tome shouting, "Just open it already!!!"

Reigen, frowning, exclaims, "No way! I'm not falling--" As he speaks, a canine nose pokes out from the boxes lid, and his expression turns to shock. "-- for that?"

We see a small puppy excitedly wagging its tail from within the box. The kids all talk. Teru: "Surprise!!~" Shou: "It should be a Shiba but since it's a rescue it's probably not pure bred." Mob, nervous: "… Do you like it?" Tome: "Who cares!! It's adorable!!"

Reigen stares down with silent shock. Making a hiccuping noise, he looks at everyone with an overwhelmed expression that moves to tears as he picks up the dog, making wordless wavering noises as he does.

The puppy licks Reigen's cheeks, and Reigen scrunches up his face as he tries not to cry. The kids exclaim: Ritsu, grinning: "Oh my god." Teru: "Awww." Tome, surprised: "Holy shit, he's speechless!" Mob, happy: "So you like it?"

Reigen sniffs loudly and says, "You guys…" Everyone looks at him eagerly. Once again crying, Reigen says, "Get out of my office." The kids looks surprised, and Serizawa sweats and wryly raises his hands, saying "Reigen--" Reigen cuts him off by shouting so hard he motion blurs. "I said-- get out." His shout is also blurred, and it's bold and in large font.

The final page shows Reigen lying down and blubbering while holding the puppy, who keeps wagging its tail. Narration says, "After everyone left, Reigen proceeded to weep in the privacy of the Spirits and Such office." Ritsu is shown facing away fromt he camera, arms crossed behind his back as he mutters, "Man." Narration says, "Ritsu was blamed for the whole ordeal even though for once he was trying to do something genuinely kind for Reigen, even if it was just for Mobs sake." End ID]

ID by @princess-of-purple-prose thank you so much!

[harrysarchive]

I love tattooarrist harry and baker!y/n so much!! Can we please have more of them🥺🥺

No big deal; h.s.

Pairing:

Tattooartist!harry x baker!y/n

Summary:

"I don't see the problem we were just staying in." He tries to defend himself his eyebrows furrowing, a common tell sign that he was getting worked up, "Me and Niall had a good fuckin day at work so we decided to celebrate. We can do date night another day no big deal."

POV:

Y/n's

Warnings: Slight angst

I watch as the candle slowly melts with a sigh leaving my mouth, the cold dinner left untouched and the wine was left getting warm. I look up at the clock and my frown deepens.

I'll be back at 8, just me and you tonight love.

His charismatic voice with a wink rings through my mind. The clock taunts me with the hands striking 10, finally deciding he wasnt showing, I shoved my chair back the legs of the chair weeping from the tension against the wooden floor, and started picking up the dinner left to waste. Wrapping Harry's plate in plastic wrap i shove it in the fridge when a black ball of fur swivels its way between my legs, matilda meows sorrowful and i give her a light smile.

"He probably had to work late 'tilda." I hum giving her a pat before walking towards our bedroom.

As i sit on our bed I pull my phone out and scroll through my contacts, clicking his name i put my phone to my ear and wait as the sound of the ringing vibrates through my ear.

I obviously couldn't answer I'm probably busy at work or with y/n. If it's important give her a call.

I let out a frustrated huff at the voicemail, "Where the hell are you? We had plans tonight remember? Just give me a call back please."

My body jolts as i hear the sound of keys jingle and the front door snapping open. I grab ahold of my glasses on the side table shoving them on and looking at the clock, 2:00 A.M. glares back at me. Are you actually kidding me? I put on my house shoes and walk towards the living area of the apartment, i watch as Harry pour himself a glass of water.

"And where the hell have you been?" I ask sharply as i glare at him, my hands on my hips Harry stops pouring the water and turns towards me with a frown.

"Out with Niall." He states bluntly taking a swig of water, a harsh laugh escapes my mouth and i nod.

"Did you forget something?" I ask with a sarcastic smile on my face.

He looks as if he's trying to remember something then shakes his head, "not that i recall."

Thats the fire that ignites my anger, "You made plans for us tonight! You wanted to have a nice quiet night in. I fucking made dinner, I had picked out a bath bomb for us to use. I even left work three hours early for this!"

"I don't see the problem we were just staying in." He tries to defend himself his eyebrows furrowing, a common tell sign that he was getting worked up, "Me and Niall had a good fuckin day at work so we decided to celebrate. We can do date night another day no big deal."

No big deal.

"No big deal?!" I snap taking a step in his direction, "We barely get to spend any time together because you're always working late, you fucking promised me tonight and you broke that promise. You come home six hours later from a pub and expect me not to be upset? I mean fuck Harry!" I huff massaging my temples.

"Well maybe you should have called me!" He bites and i sigh shaking my head.

"You know what, this isnt even worth it." I hum grabbing my keys from the key rack.

"Where the hell are you going?" He asks moving over towards me.

"Martha's."

"Dont do this," he sighs, "look i'm sorry okay just dont leave please."

I take a look at him, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair disheveled and a frown on his pretty pink lips before taking a deep breath, "i need some time to think and breathe before i make a mistake and do something irrational, if we keep going at this it'll turn out that way. Please respect my wishes."

His frown deepens and brows furrow further, "be back tomorrow?"

"I have work all day, i'll be back at 8." I spit his words back at him before throwing the door open and making my escape.

"...all im saying is he's a prick, plain and simple make him suffer." Martha states as she wipes down the colourful table.

Marthas been giving me a lecture since i walked into her little cottage yesterday at 2 in the morning and she hasnt stopped. I walked in the bakery with a frown at 6 A.M. and it hasnt came off the entire day, regulars constantly coming in giving me a sympathetic smile and wishing my day well.

"But Martha..."

"No but, no nothing. Dont give me that bullshit, sure he loves you and you love him but its the principle of the matter." She hums sitting in an old rustic arm chair next to the bean bags. "Think of it this way, if it was the other way around; him staying home making the dinner and you didnt show till ass crack in the mornin', he would do the same shit. Walk his pretty ass out of the house and drive off to Niall's."

I huff as i plop myself on the bright pink beanbag bringing my palms to my eyes trying to rub out the migraine that was destined to form. I know she's right he would be upset if it was the other way around, and the fact that he was being so blunt and  careless was very disrespectful.

"So what now?" I ask picking at my nails.

"You wait till he apologises."

I let out a deep sigh, "Martha I was also wrong for just walking out."

"No you werent, you told him yourself. You would have done some stupid shit that you didnt mean if you stayed there." She replies sharply, "and while he's at the apologising tell him to come clean the damn tables and dishes."

I let out a snort and shake my head, glancing at the clock 8 o'clock is staring back at me, Martha looks at the clock and hums.

"You can go, Nat is here so she can help clean up."

"No, i'll stay." I smile at her before snatching her rag out of her hands and smirking at her, "get up you old hag it's deep cleaning day."

She gapes at me then glares, "fuck that shit, you can do that yourself for calling me an old hag!"

I look at the clock on my dashboard, 10:30 it reads. Letting out a huff i grab my purse and some desserts I decide to bring home, everything will be fine i hoped. Walking up to the door i let one last deep sigh out before making my way through. The sound of things being knocked over make me jump slightly, looking up towards the dining area i see Harry with blood shot eyes and a blotchy face.

"You're home." He croaks out smiling at me with watery eyes.

"Yeah, stayed late to help Martha deep clean." I mumble sitting my purse on the coat rack and my keys on the key holder.

"I- um I made dinner for us." He chirps pointing to the meal on the table, "chicken parm your favourite."

I give him a weak smile before nodding and walking towards the dining table, looking at the meal my heart pulls. "Thank you thats thoughtful of you."

"No it's not, it's the bare minimum, you shouldn't thank me for this." He sighs shaking his head, "i have neglected you for weeks y/n. Making you promises and never pulling through, telling you we'd spend time together but it never happens. When you left last night, i um i got to thinking and do you know how many dates i've fallen through on?" He ask and i shake my head, not really one to keep count on things like that, "six, fucking six, that is six to many. I wanna make it up to you, i decided to cut back on my hours-"

"Harry you didnt-"

"I know i didnt have to, i wanted to." He smiles grabbing ahold of my hands, "i want to spend a lot more time with you, i want to be there for you the way you've been there for me."

Tears stream down my face as i smile at him letting out a chuckle, "i'm sorry for leaving."

"Dont be sorry, i would've left to if i was you."

A/N: oh my god :') hello guys i miss yall so fucking much its insane first off thank you so much for the request anon<3 i've been dealing with personal shit and just been in a reading (and writing) slump </3 and i've also been waiting for someone to request something so thank youuuuu!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed as much as i enjoyed writing this<3

-All the love,

em

Xo🐝

[nerdygaymormon]

I was listening to a podcast of Sheri Dew and Elder Holland and he talks about his musket talk at BYU. Have you listened to it? If so, what did you think about that part and how he talks about how much he's cried?

I was not aware of this, thank you for bringing it to my attention. For everyone who is interested, here's a link.

He speaks quite a bit about how this has been a tough year for him as he has lost his wife and his health challenges, he speaks a tribute to his wife, he follows this by talking about his faith in the Book of Mormon. He follows up by saying that people wrestle with questions which cause them to lose faith and he mentions race, church history, and LGBTQ issues. He says to cling to what faith you have and these other things will get sorted out.

At 34:32, Sheri Dew asks about his remarks at BYU 3 years ago, which most of us know as his musket fire talk. He speaks for 3.2 minutes, going to 37:52

Elder Holland said what he was trying to get across to BYU leaders is to be loyal to the LDS Church's teachings, not to say things which challenge those teachings or are aimed at church leaders. He knows that some were hurt by his remarks, and that their pain hurts him and he's wept for 3 years. He's wept as he meets with BYU students who experience "gender issues." He loves them. He declared that the BYU campus is safe for everyone. He has spent hours and hours and hours meeting with "kids who struggle with gay issues."

I'm glad he was willing to speak about this, and he spends a lot of time talking about how much he's wept and how he is hurt because other people felt hurt. It's obvious he feels deeply about this.

However, his remarks left me feeling a certain way, and I don't think it's the way he hoped.

If LGBTQ students are so safe at BYU, why is he needing to meet with so many who are struggling?

How did his address to faculty and staff to defend "the doctrine of the family and defending marriage as the union of a man and a woman" help make campus more safe for queer students?

If he recognizes that his remarks hurt many, why is his speech now included in a class required of BYU freshmen?

Did he ever apologize to Matt Easton, the gay valedictorian, whom he publicly called out in his speech?

If BYU is safe for queer students, why can't they have an on-campus student group?

Why are the university's LGBTQ resources located in the Women's Services office and not in the Office of Belonging where other anti-discrimination & inclusion efforts are located?

I'm aware that our top LDS leaders have a policy of not apologizing. I feel that Elder Holland tries to come close to doing so in these comments. Even if he's not apologizing for defending teachings which exclude and marginalize queer people, I wish he would've said something like he wishes he phrased things in a way that was less hurtful.

I know gay individuals who have met with Elder Holland and share that he was caring, and wept with them. He is aware of the hurt and pain they experience in this church.

It sounded like this podcast episode was recorded near the beginning of August, shortly before the latest Handbook changes regarding transgender members was released. I suppose he feels hurt because of the trans members who feel hurt by the latest restrictions, and it causes him to weep. We need more than his tears.

[heartfullofleeches]

Do you think Remmy would be a good father with his devotion to caring for small adorable creatures?

Remmy would definitely be up there in the rankings for father of the year out of my OCS...... After his Darling is able to get him to breathe for a minute.

Stresses himself to the point of being short for breath when Darling first brings up the idea of kids. They want to raise a child with him of all people? He's so accident prone there's no way the kid would turn out okay.....But, it's not like he'd alone in raising them - Darling is with him... and if they're with him there's a chance things won't turn out so bad. Plus, think about all the adorable outfits he could make for them and their family as a whole. Starting a family with Darling sounds nice....

Remmy would struggle a bit as any new parent would, but no matter what he would always want them to feel loved and valued. As mentioned a second ago, Remmy would make majority of their clothing starting out with a blanket like his mom had made for him and his grandmother for her. He's on the fence about stitching their given name into it encase they decided to change it later on in lige as they're figuring out who they are as a person, but let's Darling have the final say.

His separation anxiety would lead to him never wanting to leave their side. Has to be dragged out to door by his Darling whenever they have a night out for themselves and they leave the kid with relatives/close friends. Has to know a babysitter's blood type before they even see a picture of his precious child. Always let's them know how much they're loved whenever he's forced to part with them and that he won't be gone for long. Never, ever says goodbye since it's too permanent of a word for him.

-

"Dad will be home in a couple hours. See you later, okay?"

"Bye-Bye!"

"...."

Remy's Spouse (Darling) has to console a weeping Remiel in the car on their way to their anniversary dinner. "Don't cry, Rem. I'm sure it's just something their teacher taught them."

"They already grew out of their little birthday outfit I made for them two weeks ago.... They're growing up too fast.... Can we have another one?"

[somehow-a-human]

Whose POV is it Anyway?

A Companion to Owls.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Job 30:29-31 I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me and my bones are burned with heat. My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.

Continuing my analysis of the narrator/POV perspective of Good Omens season two with a look at the episode 2 minisode set in 2500 BC, Uz. God, I love this minisode.

For reference & context, I recommend reading these posts:

Whose POV is it Anyway? - Introduction

Lens Filters

POV "Your 'Something's Wrong' Voice"

POV a Trip to Hell and a 25 Lazarii Miracle

We open our journey into the land of Uz with Crowley giving Job's goats a speech that sounds awfully similar to his own troubled relationship with The Almighty. Crowley is alone here. The episode cold-opens and we've had no lead up to suggest otherwise, so this is Crowley's POV. His hair is short and more vibrant, I'd say this is likely the Black Diffusion FX filter.

Yes for the sake of this post I am doubling down on the fact that there are TWO SEPARATE WIGS. See more here.

Aziraphale arrives, he looks cute and silly, the permit is long, the goats are "destroyed" and they part ways.

The next scene we get is Aziraphale in heaven checking with Muriel and the Archangels that the permit Crowley has is in fact legitimate. This time, we are seeing Aziraphale's POV. Heaven is a stark white office building but the golden hue is almost overwhelming in this flashback. The Bronze Glimmer Glass filter is clearly being used here.

Aziraphale decides he's going to confront Crowley about saving the children, little does he know Crowley wouldn't harm them to begin with but regardless...

When we re-enter the minisode, we do so via a subtle zoom in on Crowley's face in modern day. We then enter the scene through Aziraphale's illustrated Bible and see Crowley asking Job where his kids are. We've again lost the golden glow of the BGG filter, moved back to the BDFX filter and into Crowley's POV. Crowley's hair is still short, Aziraphale isn't present here, he's alone, so these are his memories.

When we see Crowley walking up to the house to find the kids we have switched back to Aziraphale's POV. The scene is extremely warmly lit, it's soft and yellow, and Crowley is now in a different wig. His hair is much longer, softer and more attractive looking. In one of the X-Ray behind the Scenes videos I even caught a screenshot of the film slate from this scene and you can clearly that they've written in BGG as the filter used, so we have confirmation.

We continue through the Job minisode in Aziraphale's POV. The reveal of the goats, saving the kids, the ox rib temptation, the first conversation about loneliness, it's all from Aziraphale's POV. until after he "comes to" in the bookshop in present day.

When we revisit the minisode, and for the remainder of it we are seeing it from Crowley's POV which was an interesting thing to realize. We see Crowley and Aziraphale witness Job speaking with God, saving Jobs children, deceiving the Archangels, and having their emotionally revealing conversation overlooking the beautiful sea all from Crowley's POV. His hair remains short and more vibrant red throughout all of it, we don't see the return of his long long gingery waves. The lighting when the angels are present for the children's "resurrection" is very warm but I'm going to chalk that up to the Heavenly Hosts presence.

It makes sense that this reaction is Crowley's POV. Silly silly angel, did a good deed and thinks he's a demon?! But then he realizes how upset Aziraphale is, how scared and he comforts him. He tells him he isn't going to do anything that would hurt him, that would get him in trouble. Then, something about the fact that what follows is also from Crowley's memories, his perspective...

"That sounds..."

"Lonely? Yeah."

"But you said it wasn't."

"I'm a demon. I lied."

NEXT POV The Dirty Donkey & I think I Found a *Clue*!

[bookshopsbizarreblog]

Can we talk about how good the Moon Mining song in Midst S3E14 - Shindig is? Like, I've heard lots of songs across the various podcasts I've listened to, some of them quite good. But I have yet to encounter one that was situated in the story as masterfully as the Moon Mining song, or that conveys a fraction of the emotionality. Even without getting into story spoilers, the (at least seemingly) improvised nature of each verse, the layering of shouts and cheers and merry heckling to create a whole crowd leaning into it, the way each character expresses themself and their situation (and is expressed to us as the audience), and even just the way the song is introduced paint such a vibrant and lively setting. The entire 5-ish minutes just radiates a community coming together and having fun.

S2E4 - Weather used to be my favorite episode, as someone who has a deep love of cosmic horror and general eldritch shenans, but I've gone back to Shindig at least seven or eight times just to listen and relisten to that single song. I can't imagine not getting swept up in the revelry, and its position within the episode (and season overall) just sells it so much harder. More concrete spoilers beneath the cut.

If you haven't listened to Midst, please do. Gracious goodness, it's so good.

The entire episode is a rollercoaster of highs and lows for these characters and the community of Stationary Hill that we've gotten to love at this point. Sherman and Tzila finally arrive home, to celebration and joy. The community is barely recognizable but we've seen them band together and rebuild. And at a pinnacle of tension, after the gut punches of Hieronymus' confession to Saskia and the Vault demolition plan and Weepe's victory over Kozma, we finally get a brief break. But even that break is tainted with uncertainty and pain. Right before the song begins, we get Emmet's toast to the fallen, Sherman's uncertainty and fear of staying in Stationary Hill, all the festivities and merriment tinged bittersweet. And then the catharsis hits. It's not announced as a song. It's not a side bar where the ambiance cuts away so a tune can be inserted above the story. All we know is that Goe is getting on stage, and the narrators are saying we're missing something, but what? "That's right." "It wouldn't be a party on Midst without-" "Goe: It's time, you dang raskals!"

It's like the podcast version of show, don't tell. They could have laid out that a song was coming up. They could have even just launched into it. But by merely having uncertain build up and sudden increasing excitement and anticipation from the crowd, we get dragged along with it too. Straight from all the emotions of the previous conversations into this building energy with no clear outlet. It isn't until the cheers and diegetic voices demand "that friggin' moon tune," now that we are also fully on board, that the end point is revealed. And then it slaps.

The different methods of singing for each person, of which Saskia and Ettie (x2) and Ned (whose voice makes me understand the random background lady) stand out the most. Bets and Walter's and Tzila all representing different versions of how a kid would approach being asked to sing in front of their entire community. Sylvester and the chanting and everyone joining in on the chorus and the way each person's verse is a snippet of their life and perspective and situation and story without it being overbearing. It just. The whole thing. It screams of the close-knit Stationary Hill community, which then also pays off in another big way during the last episode.

I highly recommend listening to the song again, with headphones and the volume cranked up to get the full experience if you haven't already. I'm losing my mind over this song. If tumblr woulda let me, I would have just uploaded the full 5:19 clip I isolated, but unfortunately it wound up being too big to post. So here's the link to the time where the song specifically starts.

Thank you so much Third Person ( @midstpodcast ) for creating such a full and magical world.

[copperbadge]

Sam, I'm getting in my feels by watching people auditioning on the TV show THE VOICE by singing one of the judge's songs. And one of the videos one of the judges actually starts crying he's so verklempt about how lovely the adaptation is.

And now all I can think about is Buck on the British and/or Shidvah version of some sort of Pop Star audition show, absolutely weeping his eyeliner down his face at some kid rocking the hell out of one of his songs. Or Caleb's. Maybe that scrungy hopepunk version of "Hitsville".

Aw, that's kinda fun, watching people see others cover their songs -- like how Trent Reznor was mildly upset at the idea of Johnny Cash covering "Hurt" but then he heard the song (or saw the video, I don't recall) and had this thought like "Oh -- that's his song now" and was okay with it.

I don't watch reality television much -- I had a colleague who liked The Voice and I tried to watch it so we'd have something to chat about, but I just couldn't get into it. There's a lot of interesting game theory you can learn from some of the shows, but I can't engage for whatever reason, so I don't think I'd be great at writing about Buck participating in that. That said, I have been playing around with doing another Eurovision story eventually, if not a full novel at least a short, because Caleb does keep writing songs for it, it's like his second job now. I haven't quite sorted out how it will work yet but I think it'll be set up so that the National Final winner is given the option of either taking their own song to the semifinals or working with Caleb to have a song custom-tailored for them. Performing a song by Caleb Canto pretty much guarantees the artist will go viral on some level, whether or not they win Eurovision, so it's an attractive offer.

I could see Buck and Caleb getting to jury the Eurovision 2023 national final, especially since Gregory and Eddie are just barely new dads of infants, which makes concert attendance a low priority. I could see a performer covering a Buck Haverd single in part as a way to sass Buck -- you don't cover a song by the artist judging you unless you know you can knock it out of the park. And I could see Buck getting an attitude about it...right up to the moment the artist starts singing. Buck puts up a very convincing facade as a tough guy so I don't know if he'd go full on Colbert Weeping but he might get a smear of eyeliner or two :D

Currently, having discovered that wee Serafina loved his last drop, Buck is working on an album of punk-inspired lullabies. He's gonna call it Baby Rocker.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 34

Kid, Killer, Wire, Heat x Reader (Sexual)

Pure smut; No plot; 18+ only (could be read as a standalone I suppose?)

Warnings: Sex, group sex, blood play, knife play, rough sex, no holes barred, dp

(Was inspired to write this by Bestrafe Mich (Punish Me) by Mike's Dead)

Audience Participation

Kid's hands weren't long for wandering around your body before the flesh hand was shoved under your waistband, and the metal one was tearing your shirt over your head. If you minded being watched, there were no protests for Heat, Wire, or Killer to leave. You had seemed sheepish when you were telling him about this dream of yours, though there was no hint of that shyness now, while he sank two fingers into you. 

The only reason you had reservations about being shared was that you were friends with Heat and you thought Wire hated you. You didn't want your friendship to be tainted, since you had so little of them to begin with. As for Wire, you didn't know if he would be into it. You didn't have much of a chance to give a shit about that as Kid tore moans from your mouth with his fingers. You did, however, notice that Killer excused Minerva and sent her out of the room. Always so thoughtful. 

Your own hands were occupied fighting Kid's belts. Why did he have to lock his dick away like this? You were struggling to focus on them as Kid pushed you closer to the edge. You felt other hands push yours away, both flesh hands, which caused you some confusion. You looked over Kid's shoulder to see Killer, who had reached his hands around Kid from behind. 

"Let me help, darlin." Killer spoke in a low tone that sent electricity straight to your groin. "You seem distracted." He undid Kid's pants in record time, himself an expert at getting to Kid's dick.

Kid tsked. "What a slutty lass you are. Already reaching for my cock." He spit into his hand and gave himself a few pumps. 

You were unaware that Kid had been walking you back towards the wall until your back was flush against it. You couldn't take your eyes off Kid, his heavy member in his hand. Only vaguely do you recall shedding your pants along the way. He tugged your panties to the side and pressed his weeping tip to your entrance, pushing the head in before suddenly removing it again. You whined, desperate to have something filling that space.

"How bad do ya want it?" 

"Badly. Give it to me."

"What will ya do for it?" 

You swallowed thickly. "Whatever you want, Captain." You knew he loved when you called him by the proper title, an instance where you let him have dominance over you.

Kid hummed. "And what if I want to be rough?"

"I'm not fragile." You looked at his bandolier. "Will you... use this?" Your hand tugged at the hilt of his blade. 

Kid's brow quirked up. "Ya sure about that?" 

You nodded. A chill of excitement running up your spine.

Kid pushed his tip in again and then pulled it out, with a devious look in his eyes. "I change my mind." Kid turned you around so your chest was against the wall. "I think I want this hole instead." His hands ran down your sides and paused at your hips, pulling them against him to rub his cock between your cheeks. 

From this angle, you had a hard time seeing what Kid was doing, though you heard him slide his knife out of the sheath. Killer had been on the side you could see and moved to be behind you, Heat taking his place. You couldn't tell where Wire was. There was pressure, followed by stinging pain on your lower back. You sucked in a hiss.

Killer spoke from behind you. "You can say stop if you need a break, ok?" You felt his broad hand cup the back of your neck. 

You nodded. Finding it difficult to look Heat in the eyes, yours drifted down to his feet. They came towards you until the scent of burnt wood filled your nostrils. That's not how you thought he would smell but you weren't mad about it. You felt his fingers lift your chin, causing your gaze to pass over the bulge in his pants. He paused for a moment, either to look at you or give you a chance to pull away, or both, then brought his lips to yours. He tasted like fire, too. You don't know whose hand it was, but it found your clit and immediately went to work rubbing circles into it. The sting on your lower back turned into a blissful burning sensation, growing as Kid slowly continued to drag his blade over your skin. Warm liquid that you almost couldn't feel since it was your own body temperature starting dripping down your back and into the valley Kid was rutting against.

You moaned against Heat, allowing your tongues to slide past each other. You were able to move the hand on that side from being against the wall to press against his erection through his pants. Caught up in your own haze of pleasure, your hand stuttered, and Heat took it upon himself to grab your wrist and move it for you. Something about that mad you shudder. The pressure building in your abdomen made your legs twitch. The hand that played with you dipped its fingers inside, pressing its palm against your clit. You whined again as you felt the absence of Kid pushing against you. 

Kid looked down at his artwork, licking your blood from his knife. His dick throbbed at the act of marking you. In sanguine letters, "KID" was carved into your skin. He pressed his fingers against the lines, tracing his name again, coating his fingers with your blood. With every touch, you cried out with a mix of pleasure or pain. It was hard to say which, especially since Heat was greedily keeping your mouth occupied with his own. 

"Heat, I can't fuckin hear her." 

"Switch with me then," Heat teased.

"Not a fuckin chance." Kid took the fingers with your blood and introduced one to your back entrance. "Her ass is mine. Isn't that right?" Kid smacked your ass with his metal hand and slid another finger in simultaneously.

It was too much. You couldn't answer him. Or maybe this was your answer. The coil had been building and you knew you would cum soon, but the smack and the feeling of fingers shoved up both holes made it happen without warning. "FUCK!" You shrieked, almost losing your balance as your knees buckled and your eyes rolled back. Your body clenched down on Heat and Kid's fingers from both sides. You realized they were Heat's fingers because he shoved them in your mouth while you were coming down from your high. 

"If you're good for them, maybe I'll let you have a taste," Killer mused, touching the soaked fabric of your panties. Your hips instinctively tried to grind against his touch, but he pulled his hand back. "Uh uh. I said if you were good." 

All touches were removed from you while you caught your breath. You leaned with your back against the wall.

"Please, Killer." 

His hands briefly skirted across your belly before hooking his fingers on either side of your panties, shredding them with one pull. His finger slid under the bra you still had on. "Take this off too unless you want me to ruin it."

You tossed it away. "I want you to ruin me." You were only mildly aware that you were completely bare in front of all of them, two for the first time. 

Killer motioned for you to get off the wall and come to him, which you did gladly. He pulled you to his chest so you were slightly bent forward. You looked so cute with those eyes pleading up at him. He would love nothing more than to fuck your sassy mouth, but this was still his game and he still wanted to torment you. "You have to relax or it will hurt." He watched as your eyes widened when Kid spread your cheeks apart. 

"I want it to hurt." This wasn't your first time. You were aware of the risks, but you were also aware of your own body. It was going to hurt regardless since Kid was bigger than anything you had before. Unlike before, you could heal yourself if anything went wrong. 

Kid still worked you open a little more with a third finger and then a fourth. The blood dripping down from your future scar made it plenty wet still. He couldn't wait to feel that tight ass wrapped around him. Though he tried not to think about it so much or else he would cum. 

Killer still held you, praising you for taking Kid in. It stung, as you knew it would. In the beginning it always felt a little sore and weird, but after he started moving, it would be better. Just the idea of being 'violated' in this way had you dripping wet. The twinges of pain sending shivers up your spine. Killer released you when Kid was all the way in. You expected someone to come fill your mouth. Instead, you felt Kid's arms reach under your thighs to hook under your knees, picking you up while still on his cock, and spreading you wide open in the front. That was the first time you were acutely aware of Wire. He was rubbing himself through his clothes, enjoying the show. 

Kid groaned into your ear. "Fuck. Ya really clenched down when ya saw Wire. Ya thinking about him hate-fucking ya?" Kid slowly moved you up and down his cock, using you like his personal sex doll. Kid snickered. "In fact, I want ya to tell them about yer dream."

You slowly shook your head. "I d-don't want to." It was hard to get the words out when Kid was fucking your ass. "Embarrassing."

"Ya got a dick in your ass and your pussy spread wide for everyone to enjoy, and that's embarrassing?" 

Killer appeared in front of you. "Being good includes doing whatever the Captain says." He put his thumb against your clit, moving it very slowly.

"Please fill me up. I'm begging you." You writhed in Kid's grip, desperate to feel full. The slow pace that he and Killer set was agonizing. 

"Heat will be glad to oblige, but first ya have to satisfy my request." 

"I-"

"Louder. Wire can't hear ya from all the way over here."

"I-I had a dream that Kid was f-fucking me and that you were all g-gonna take turns."

"And what was that bit about Heat and Wire? They need details if ya want it to happen." 

"They tossed me back and forth, l-like a rag-doll."

"That's still not everything. Go on, tell Wire what you were interested in."

"K-kid please."

"Tell him," Killer pressured, pausing his ministration. 

"I want to get hate-fucked by Wire." You felt your face heat up.

"Good girl," Killer gave another firm press against your bud before turning it over to Heat.

Heat quickly blocked your line of sight, but not before you saw Wire with a sneer on his face. That look went straight to your cunt. 

Kid held still for a moment while Heat bullied his way in. "So tight." The pressure around his cock was made more intense by the feeling of Kid's cock filling up the space next-door. 

Heat's hands found their way to your breasts, kneading them and twisting your nipples as he bit at the smooth, warm tops of them. His mouth moved up the side of your neck, adding to the marks Kid had left earlier. Kid was moving you only slightly up and down the tips of both of their cocks, so Heat could kiss you. The height difference made it hard in this position to kiss and fuck at the same time. Heat released you, moving his rough hands to your sides, aiding Kid in moving you, though he didn't need it. They met over your shoulder to make-out with each other. The feeling of being ignored and used as a toy was dizzying. It's not exactly something you would have thought you liked. They used you to jerk themselves off while they moaned into each other's mouths. You gripped harder as the thought wound the knot in your stomach tighter. The overwhelming feeling of being filled and stretched by two, exceptionally large cocks was sending you to the moon. You were pretty sure there was a steady stream of moans from you mixing in with their own, tongue panting. You didn't know for sure, so focused on how good you were feeling. It could be your imagination, but Heat's dick had a warm sensation to it.

"Look at you. Taking two huge dicks at the same time." 

Killers words were going to make you crash back to earth. 

"After this, no one will be able to fuck you as good. Your cunt will never be full like this again."

"Shit. Killer." You didn't have words to warn him. 

"Tell me. Are you close?"

"Yeah," you moaned.

"Do you want to cum?" 

"I want to cum. Please." 

"I want you to hold it until they cum. Can you do that?" 

You shook your head.

"Yes you can." 

You felt both Heat and Kid's grips dig into your skin, slamming you down on themselves. You strained to keep your orgasm at bay. They were definitely close, their breaths ragged, their cocks twitching. Your arms were around Heat's neck for support. "Cum in me! Please cum in me! I want to be dripping from both holes," you repeated various iterations of this mantra until, nearly at the same time they grunted, filling you with hot semen. As they did, they held you tighter to their bases, pushing them into your sweet spot. Finally you were allowed to release. Your cry of pleasure was so earth-shatteringly loud, the dead guys in the room could hear it. There was a rush of fluid down your legs as your own juice and the force of your cunt clamping down caused cum to leak out. 

Before you had a chance to recover. You felt Kid remove himself, but Heat held you up. And suddenly you were on Wire's lap, facing him. He had been sitting on the table. "If you wanna be tossed back and forth you better get to work on Wire before I go soft," Heat said. You barely processed what he said before Wire impaled you on his cock, shoving it so deep, you felt it in your stomach. It was a good thing you were thoroughly prepared, because Wire was proportionate in every way. He bullied your cervix and just as you were about to cum, he lifted you off himself and gave you back to Heat who opted to take Kid's position, lifting you with your legs spread open, his hand barely reaching your clit. He already came, this was purely for you. Right as you were on the precipice of your climax, Heat passed you back to Wire. They did this several more time before Heat had to tap out. 

The last time Heat gave you to Wire, Wire got off the table and set you on it instead, on your knees, facing away from him. "Spread your legs until your stomach is flat against the table." 

It was slightly uncomfortable with your legs splayed completely out, bent at the knee. Your ass hung off the edge of the table and your arms were above your head. Wire's palm pressed firmly into your back, crushing you against the table. You felt him lean over you, the blades of his necklace touching your skin, so if you bucked, they would cut you. You wondered if that was their purpose. He didn't talk, simply shoved his cock back inside and railed you from behind. After edging so many times, you came fast and hard, gripping him so tightly, you earned a grunt from the otherwise silent man. 

Killer thought you had been good enough. And he was feeling a little left out if he was honest with himself. Watching you cum over and over again, dripping with sweat, blood, and tears. He wanted to take some responsibility for your impending fuck coma. You were beyond the point of fucked-out. Your pretty pink pussy was puffy around Wire's cock from the repeated battering. And your ass was still gaping for now. But your poor mouth had no use. He positioned himself on the table in front of you, legs splayed almost as wide as yours, as wide as his jeans would allow, to get his cock as close to you as he could. You were practically drooling as you looked up at him, making his dick twitch within its confines. He freed his cock from his jeans and it sprung forth, bobbing in front of your face.

Wire released the hand from your back so you could lift your front half enough to reach Killer. "Choke on his cock you filthy fucking marine bitch." 

You eagerly opened your mouth. Finally Killer was going to reward you. You gagged as Killer unexpectedly pulled your head down on him. Your ponytail was wrapped around his hand.

"Fuck the little slut tightens up when you do that. Do it again." 

Killer did it again, bringing tears to your eyes. You were being bounced back and forth by the thrusts of their hips. "You're so cute when you're crying on my cock, breadcrumb." 

"You like getting used, don't you? I bet you'd like to be chained down here, free use for all the Kid Pirates, huh? I can feel you getting close. You want me to come visit every day and fuck you until you cry?"

"That's it, darlin. Relax your throat. You feel so good."

"Marine whore. Cum on this pirate cock."

The opposition between degradation and praise was strangely working. Wire slapped his hand down on the freshly carved "KID". The vibrations from your yelp going straight to Killer. He felt his balls empty. He meant to last longer, but he had held out for so long he was straining from the start. The salty taste hit the back of your throat. You swallowed most of it, though some leaked from the corner of your mouth. Partially because you weren't ready and partially because that sensation forced you over the edge. 

"Fuck. I'm- I'm-" The words were lost as Wire felt you start to pulse around him. He pulled out and slammed back in, not into your cunt, into your ass. He shoved his fingers in your pussy at the same time. It was the most intense orgasm yet. Your feet cramped from your toes curling so hard. Your whole body shook and twitched. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and you would have screamed even louder had your voice not been hoarse already from being so vocal. The vice grip you had on Wire pushed him over the edge too, he chose to pull out, showering the letters on your back with cum. 

You couldn't move. Arms and legs too weak to push yourself up. Eyes completely glazed over. Still twitching with aftershocks. You didn't even want to heal yourself at then moment. The dull throb and the burn felt good. 

"Don't worry, darlin. I've got ya." 

Next Chapter

[threepandas]

Bad End, Eve: Part 2

Prev: <-

He had clothes for me. And It would not have been so unsettling, had they been less... precise. Less flattering. Fit less perfectly. But they DID. A sundress, in a flattering cut. A lovely color for my skin tone. The sort of thing a man who wore only variations of the same outfits? Day in and day out? Definitely researched.

At least I had fucking underwear now.

Even if I still couldn't move under my own power, farther then an inch or so.

He didn't even have the decency to dress me like a doll. Fondly but with some detachment. A bit of distance I could cling too. No, I was the paralyzed toddler, to be cradled and cooed over as he manhandled me. Praises as though I DONE anything. Kisses pressed to bio-gel wet hair and skin.

Weren't I SUCH a good girl? Letting him do as he pleases. Unable to stop him. Weak as the newborn I was. Fuck. The echoes of pain still howled along my near weeping nerve endings. Begging for rest. For the finest pain medication cocktails money can buy. Anything.

Instead I got this.

Clingy hands and the near bitter cold of a lab.

A lab coat was pulled onto me next. It didn't match my little dress up outfit. But? At least it was WARM. Thank god. Already, the goo was making my clothes stick to me. Sucking away my heat. Leaving my... my EVERYTHING feeling gross and sticky. I wanted a shower. Not to be dressed up.

But I had a feeling I wouldn't be getting what I wanted.

"There we are~ All nice and covered up. We'll get you cleaned up soon, sweetheart. Daddy promises." The madman who held me hummed. His face tucked against my gel filthy hair as his hand rubbed up and down my limp arm, as though trying to draw warmth to it. A mockery of caring. This was possession. "Now let's get out of here, hmm?"

Scooped up like a princess, I felt more like a toy too be carted around.

I was carried, for the first time, from the lab that had been all I'd known.

I wish he'd left me there. Forgotten I even existed. Instead, I got to see firsthand, EXACTLY what he had done. And... and I knew... KNEW that none of those dead around me were innocent. They all had hand in atrocities, either directly or by compliance. Inaction. But.... but did they deserve this? Indiscriminate execution?

He didn't even glance down, as he strolled through the carnage he had made.

Too the elevators, where he casually kicked the corpse blocking the door, out of the way, before steeping inside. We rode in near silence. Just me, him, and the corpses of three security gaurds and a scientist. He was humming. Soft but pleased, as though the day had turned out surprisingly well.

He had to rest me on a hood, when we reached the carpark. So he could dig out his keys. I was swept up again. Though not carried far. Fancy. Good to know being a morally bankrupt, weirdly clingy, DEEPLY fucking cracked, mad scientist pays well... I guess...

Placed down on another hood while he...

Are you kidding me?

With a near skip in his step, I watch as my "father" strolls to the trunk of his car. Pops it open. Pulls out a FUCKING KIT. An honest to God duffle bag. Several unopened plastic carseat covers. How... how LONG has he been PLANNING this?!

Numbly, I watch as he preps his front seat for me. Both protecting the upholstery while somehow making an honest to God nest of comfort for his little passenger princess. There are layers. The motions look practiced. I... I feel like I'm in a fever dream.

He does realize I'm technically a science experiment, right?

We are... for lack of a better plot device, absconding in the night? He's not PICKING ME UP FROM THE HOSPITAL. He's kidnapping me! Stealing me!! What the ACTUAL FUCK?!

I don't ask. Know BETTER then to ask. I remember that much. You don't argue with crazy. You smile, nod, and quietly get the FUCK out of there at the first possible chance. Placate don't escalate. If the madman wants to play "happy family"? Suuuuuure, "Daddy". Of COURSE.

That's EXACTLY what'll do...

You know, right up until I can fucking RUN again.

Then peace out, bitchcakes. You can take your nuttypuffs and SHOVE IT. I am sore, cold, and YOU are the one who kept pumping me full of drugs! They HURT. A LOT. I know for a FACT the world's probably gonna end. In that weirdly symbolic anime way, where there's giant hands and faces or whatever, so? Screw you!

Noooooot that I SAY that.

Because, again, we do not provoke the crazy man with a gun.

And a PLAN apparently. Dooooon't LIKE that he has "A Plan". In fact, would Prefer Not. But I'm not getting what I want today. I'm getting lifted and put, like a precious if sickly child, into the little car nest he's made for me and tucked in. Watching as he rounds the car to slide protectors over his own seat as well.

Well... at least he's self AWARE of all the blood.

He starts the car. Turns on the heater, a few taps of the console screen has music beginning to play and my seat leaning back. He leans over to grab my seat belt, as though this were all perfectly normal, pressing a soft kiss to my temple as he gets me situated.

There are straight jackets less containing.

I am trapped. Bundled by blankets, wrapped and pressed in on all sides, pillows and fancy little comforts I never wanted or asked for. All to then be strapped down by a seat belt I can't even REACH.

Great.

Just... Great.

He leaves the car running. Keys hanging, tormenting me really, in the ignition. If only I could FUCKING MOVE. I watch as he gets out. Walks back towards the elevator. He seems to think we apparently have all the time in the world. And really, according to time on the console? We kinda fucking DO.

It's barely mid-day.

Not... not even lunch.

Somehow that makes it worse. It shouldn't. I know it shouldn't. Death and massacre can happen at any time. But... the fact that he so cheerfully killed each and every one of his co-workers? Massacred everyone in the fucking building but me? In broad daylight? Makes it... worse.

It feels like the sort of horror that should only happen during dark, moonless, nights. Someplace dark. Where you expect the wickedness of man against man, the inhumanity of so called civilized people. Not... daylight. Beneath the cheerful rays under which children play and people fall in love, life bustles around. It should be for LIVING.

It's a bias.

A naive thought.

Foolish of me to hold...

And yet? I still had it. Still found myself shocked. Guess I can be glad? That my innocence has not been COMPLETELY lost to this place. That there is still good in me. I seem to still assume the best of people, foolish as that is. How very dangerous.

My "father" is back. Wheeling boxes and boxes of hard drives. Lock boxes of things unknown. First the trunk, then the back seat. The car is stuffed. Every secret this place ever held it seemed. He's talking them. His grin has teeth. Is giddy and MEAN.

Looting the corpses of his enemies agrees with him, it seems.

The last trip is for his briefcase. A small pile of file folders. He's nearly dancing. Does a little twirl as he passes the front of the car, a slide to reach the door. Humming a showtime I don't recognize.

"Ah~ I've waited for this moment for YEARS~! Ha Ha!" Teeth flash and catch the low light of the carpark's emergency lighting, his eyes practically glow with a manic schadenfreude. "Oh my sweet Eve, you have NO idea how much I've been looking forward to the day I get to steal you away~ BURN this cesspit to the ground. And best of all? Finally get my hands on all this research! Put it to actual USE for once! No more filthy Adams. No more trying to fix the worthless and damned! Just us. Just Eden."

Well THATS not fucking ominou-...

Wait.

WHAT.

Eden. As in EDEN Eden? End game Eden? Super mega doom project Eden? Seemly perfect garden of bliss build upon horrors, that you think have to face Plot Relevant, "get one of several endings", Moral Quandary EDEN??? THAT ONE!? Oh, MOTHER FUCKER. Please tell me Crazy Daddy Pants isn't one of the Architects of the apocalypse.

I do NOT want to be ground zero for that. NOR in the Protagonist's way!

He buckles up. Pulls out of his spot. Casual as anything. The world is blinding, after a life spent inside. A depressing cyberpunk hellcity crowds the world around us. Somehow both choking the world of all color, even as it splashes itself with gaudy and neon like some sort of radioactive oil spill.

Clambering over each other like a bucket of crabs, dragging everyone else down as they claw at what's left of the sky.

A full city of Babel.

Yet? Even as I remember, lay witness, to this oh so familiar set dressing? Limp in my creator's car, as he drives. Smoothly navigating chaotic traffic worse then anything I could ever remember? My mind was faster then it had been. Processed information FASTER then I could ever have imagined.

I... I experienced time differently, I think.

It was... flexible? Slowing and speeding, depending on if I... not "concentrated"? But "payed attention"? I guess? Wanted to know. It felt almost like flexing something, yet there was no... flexing? Feeling? It was strange.

Yet...

Yet, with it...

I SAW.

A food cart. Owner sneaking a bedraggled man a few extra peice when he glanced away. Young parents, swinging their child between them. He is the center of their world. A first date. They are both widows, old grief still clings, but cautiously... they are ready to try again. There is SO MUCH. Lives and lives and LIVES.

The city is ugly, cruel, but the people are not.

They are not props in someone else's play.

The traffic dies off, as we get closer and closer to opulence. As brutalism shifts to a blend of art nouveau and art deco. Bits of greenery, kept like trophies to be displayed. I am somehow... unsurprised, when my creator pulls us into the garage of one of the more expensive but barren looking houses.

It is the sort of place that makes show room's seem warm.

Because, at least, show rooms TRY to mimic hospitality and warmth. A lived in quality. They, at least, SUGGEST that the dwelling they represent could one day be a home. This? This place hold no such illusions. This house would prefer itself to be a lab. Be left alone. The walls somehow radiating a disgust of you.

It is unbearably cold.

Scooped up again. The blankets have dried against my skin in places. So he merely takes them with, rather then (apparently) risk my poor hyper durable yet still sensitive skin. He's made me a living tank. Through agony after agony, day by day, yet NOW? Now I am treated like spun glass.

Carried into the house... and God, in the GARAGE was bad? This is somehow worse. I feel like tracking in a single speck of dirt would somehow get me treated to a summary execution. Literally. That nothing resides here but nutrient paste and room temperature, triple filtered water. A place where the color beige is treading dangerously close to being "too much".

Isn't this a form of torture? I'm pretty sure this was a form of torture, locking people in rooms designed like this.

Up the stairs, down a near barren hallway. The paintings probably came the house. They scream "generic and inoffensive". Where are we..? WHY are we going to the master bedroom? I do not WANT to be alone in a bedroom with you, my dude. Shit. FUCK!

I wriggle. I can twitch my feet a bit more now, but not by much.

"Shhhh, my perfection, I know. Being so filthy must be unbearable. But don't worry, Daddy's here. We're almost there." He croons at me, almost in the exact tone one uses to sooth a fussy toddler. I pray to God this isn't a sex thing. It's already weird, I don't know HOW weird I can tolerate before I snap. "Daddy's gonna get you all cleaned up, okay? Then you can take a nap while he pack everything to go. We're going on a little road trip to our new home. Growing girls need clean air and flowers, after all."

Oooooh fuck.

Fuck, he DOES plan to take me to Eden.

Ooooh ho hooo, I am gonna DIE die. Like... super mega death. Class A with sparkles Death. Eden is a seemingly utopian dream garden. A cottage core painting brought to life. Problem is? It's built on the back of endless suffering. Cruelty and blood, atrocity and hell itself made real.

You could like in heaven... so long as you ignored what it cost others.

Destroying Eden is what triggers the Apocalypse. Because it's BUILT INTO THE PLANET. Like a massive tumor. A parasite. Killing an already dying world even FASTER. But? Again. If you wanted to get YOURS and damn the rest? Beautiful beyond measure.

His bathroom is exactly the sort of rich person nonsense I expected from a house this size. Too much space. I get set down on a bench. Because THAT'S normal to just.. fucking have. How the hell does it not MOLD? No, wait, concentrate. I do NOT want this man bathing me! Yes, he's seen me naked. A lot. But that wasn't touching! No touchy!

He comes back with a pitcher.

And I discover that I am saved. Bio-gel is incredibly water soluble. He pours water over where the blankets stick to me to free me. Has removed his shoes and watch. Everything, really, that can't afford to get wet. I find out why? When he carries me straight into a walk in shower.

Fully dressed.

....at least he's respecting my boundaries?

Never VOICED them, though. So I have no idea what this is. Washing off the blood maybe? We don't stay long. Or, rather, I don't stay long. Just long enough to remove most of the gel. Then I am swept off to a fancy jacuzzi tub. Oooooh, bubbles. Warm water. Warm and comfy, massaging wat jet lined seat. Blergle....

I think my brain is melting out.

Waaaarm soup. Bubbles. Cook my muscles until I am noodle. Leave me, I wanna die here.

I am utterly blissed out. Boneless. No longer even TRYING to keep track of my surroundings. The indulgent chuckle from above me? Should probably worry about that. But on the OTHER hand... what if I just continued to doze off, here, in what is clearly heaven's water filled embrace? Hands gather my hair. Gently begin to work what smells like fancy shampoo into it.

Spa day?

My sleepy brain says it's probably spa day or something. This is nice~

By the time everything is done, my limbs are heavy and boneless. Relaxed. At least, I'm PRETTY sure that's why I can't move so good. Mmmm, sleepy. Warm now. I list to the side, only to be caught gently. The guy helping me, helps me change. Comfy new clothes. Hair ready for sleep. Even carries me to a big ol bed. Tucks me in. How nice...

I'm forgetting something...

Feels important. But I'm TIRED. I'll deal with it in the morning.

"Ah~ my perfect girl, I can't wait to give you EVERYTHING." Whispers a voice, like a confession, before a kiss is pressed to my temple. "You were made to be loved. Adored. The perfect child meant for a perfect world. I can not wait to finally bring you HOME. God's mistake was making Adam."

"All I need, is Eve."

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 In A Week by MimiSpearmint

💙 In A Week

by MimiSpearmint

T, 2k, Wangxian | Podfic Available by Firewitch (Keller012)

Summary: “There was this man who was always feeding me.” The kitten’s ghost looks up at him, empty eyes still imploring, “Death, can I see him one last time?” A kindly Grim Reaper watches as Lan Zhan adopts cats throughout the years Kay's comments: Filed under stories that made me weep like a little kid. Like, this made me so emotional. This hit all the right points to just destroy me, also this definitely should have been tagged "Major Character Death." If you're not ready to read a very sad stories in which cats die and human Lan Wangji ages and loses his cats over the years, skip this one. If you're in the mood to get absolutely emotionally enjoyed, please enjoy this feast. I literally have no words, I'm writing this rec with actual tears in my eyes. There's also a podfic available, if you struggle to read through the tears. Excerpt: A young family exits the cat enclosure, a small, white kitten already in a carrier. It looks docile and elegant, even for a shelter cat, not making a sound. When Lan Zhan enters the room, there is an older man already there, back to the door and wearing the weird semi-scrub uniform the shelter workers sport. “I’m sorry, old girl,” says the worker, a resigned sort of sadness in his tone as he fiddles with a cage lock, “I’m afraid your stay is over.” “I’ll take her!” blurts Lan Zhan. The worker starts and drops his keys in shock. “Please,” he adds. “Y-yes,” the other man stutters, fumbling to pick his keys back up. “She’s not a kitten though,” he warns. As the cage is unlocked, this much and more becomes apparent. The cat cowers in the back corner, fixing the worker with one – just one – large, fearful eye. A deep pink scratch extends over its nose and bisects the sewn-shut remnants of its second eye. Its fur is black, like his last kitten. When the worker steps back to let Lan Zhan have a closer look, the cat creeps forward, pressed close to the perimeter of the cage, to sniff at this new stranger that has come to gawk. It stares at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan stares back. They come to an agreement. The cat – Bichen, he has decided – purrs as he picks her up and puts her in her carrier. She purrs on the drive home, when he sticks his fingers through the carrier’s grid door, his uncle’s voice bitching in his head about keeping both hands on the wheel. She purrs when he explains to her gently that this is her home, that she must stay indoors for safety, that he keeps her here because he loves her and does not want her hurt. “You are good,” he says when she purrs next to him in bed. “You are a kitten, no matter what they say. You are good.”

podfic available, pov lan wangji, pov wei wuxian, modern setting, modern with magic, grief/mourning, animal death, cats, major character death, soft lan wangji, pre-relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, sad with a happy ending, hopeful ending, grim reaper wei wuxian

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[tizeline]

hii! i’d love to know what are your favourite tmnt aus<33

Replica by kathaynesart was one of the first AUs I got really invested in, I'm pretty sure. It's just all around a really well made story, great balance of both comedic and more heartfelt darker moments. Also something about the way Kat makes comics just immerses you and get you really invested!

Empyrean Weeping by cupcakeslushie is another one of the first AUs I got into, and it'd inspired me a lot. The more recent comics focusing on Leo and him getting rescued from the Foot especially have been absolutely phenomenal, I'm so fricking invested in this story man you have no idea! (Also this AU is what got me to check out the IDW TMNT comics in the first place, and that's like one of my favorite TMNT iterations now so that's cool)

Ghost In The Shell by amevello-blue is hilarious cuz it's just 03!Donnie, coming from a more grounded and serious version of TMNT reacting to all the bonkers shit happening in RotTMNT. Also Ghost's relationship with the Rise turtles is adorable and wholesome and afbiafhaijdfahkj this AU makes me FEEL things man

Little Kid With A Big Death Wish by remedyturtles, speaking of feeling things, fucking OUCH! OUCHIE OW! Also very interesting take on the F!Leo-gets-sent-back-to-the-present-trope that this fandom (and me) loves so much, I'm absolutely living for it

Sidelined by dandylovesturtles and OH LOOK! MORE OUCHIE! I love the idea of Leo getting yeeted into the the dark armour, and Sidelined AU is the most developed story about this concept that I've personally been able to find. Anyway I love it, awesomesauce!!