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pichirobi · 2 years

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put your hands together for yet another hualian college au 🥳🥳🎉

once the star valedictorian of his high school, xie lian is now a broke, failing college student surviving on packaged ramen fished out of cafeteria garbage cans. his luck turns for the better when he meets the mysterious art student who's filled his canvases with portraits of xie lian.

fic series | au tag | notes under the cut! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

xie lian (he/him, asexual)

xie lian's parents laid him off so he takes odd jobs, tutors, and does homework for anyone he can get to pity him. all of his money is spent on rent, and a cheap gym membership he abuses so he can at least look like he's functional on the outside. he bodybuilds his stress away.

his grades are terrible. xl's actually a greatly diligent student and does all his work, he just keeps misremembering due dates, and his professors are the kind that give zeroes on assignments typed in the wrong font.

he's kept fed by his roommate, shi qingxuan (she/he). xie lian's saved her ass from academic probation enough times for it to be embarrassing. their bond is more of a silent agreement to look out for each other.

hua cheng (he/they, demisexual)

his parents died when he was young but they left him a small fortune. he doesn't show off his money, unless it's to dress opulently outside of class and treating xl to expensive restaurants.

hua cheng takes like six courses a semester, four of which are obscure electives. he says it's because he likes to keep himself well-rounded and busy, but he has a ridiculous amount of free time anyway.

he's a perfect student but his professors are wary of him. he thinks very little of most professors and talks back to them in such a way where they can't tell if they've been insulted or not.

hc chooses the same art concentration every semester. portraits of the same beautiful boy at various ages. sometimes his art professor can get him to paint butterflies feeding on flowers.

hualian's backstory

their story begins on a playground. 10-year-old xie lian scares off mean kids bullying 8-year-old hua cheng over his heterochromia (one of the mean kids is qi rong). xie lian tells him he thinks hua cheng's eyes are pretty. xie lian wears earrings and has long hair that he braids with flowers, and he doesn't care what other kids think of him. he won't let anyone be bullied for their appearance.

we know what comes next—endless pining. hua cheng's infatuation grows as, from a distance, he watches his noble, gracious, special classmate defend kids who are easy targets (with the help of feng xin and mu qing) and earns the title of teacher's pet. hua cheng gains the bravery to stop covering his eye, until hualian are separated in chuzhong (secondary/middle school). the bullying returns and hua cheng swears to never take off the eye bandage again.

hua cheng's "young soldier" moment is at a halloween party in their last year of gaozhong (high school). hc's dressed as a ghost, face painted and almost unrecognizable. xie lian's dressed as a rabbit. qi rong spikes his cup of water. xl's top is sleeveless and it's unintentionally drawing unwanted attention to his shredded arms. some asshole teen girls won't leave him alone and keep flirting with/grabbing him. hua cheng tells them to fuck off and scares them away. although xie lian is indeed incredibly gorgeous and hua cheng is incredibly flustered, after the party, he makes sure to escort a drunk xie lian home.

some guy xl's never seen the face of starts rumors that xie lian paid off the administration to name him valedictorian, and that he sweet-talks his teachers into bullshitting his grades. he's the understudy for the lead role in a school play. the girl who was meant to lead falls horrifically sick and is in the hospital for some time. the guy who hides his face spreads another rumor that xie lian is the one who put her in the hospital so xl could have the attention/spotlight. other students gradually join in on the fun of bashing xl, knocking an admirable figure down to their level, until people start avoiding him, and his popularity is lost. feng xin and mu qing distance themselves from xie lian. hua cheng gets more detentions than usual for picking fights with anyone who dares to insult xie lian in front of him.

hualian in college

their third-first meeting is when xie lian is down on his luck, drenched from the rain as he just barely misses his bus to campus. hua cheng appears, stands next to xie lian with a red umbrella, and wordlessly waits with him for the next bus.

xie lian doesn't see the kind stranger again until he needs to track down the dean of xianle university, jun wu. jun wu is chatting with the head of the studio art department. while xl politely waits for their conversation to end, he looks around at the art students milling about, and catches that tall, handsome, kind stranger staring at him. the stranger smiles, looks down, and leaves. xl wanders the room to check out the art pieces scattered around, and comes to an easel in the corner. xl is faced with a painting of...himself. the signed name is written so poorly he can't read it.

hua cheng comes to him next. he introduces himself as "san lang" and asks xie lian for tutoring—not for any subject, but to improve his handwriting. cue montage of soft-spoken critiques and hands gently touching and hua cheng confessing his admiration via the poem they're practicing writing together. xie lian doesn't recognize hua cheng from their childhood but fixates on that lovely deep voice, trying to place where he's heard it before. hua cheng tries to overpay him but xie lian refuses, saying hc can tip him by grabbing lunch with xl. they meet up for calligraphy practice once a week.

san lang is generous and protective and patient. san lang is flirty and dependable and mischievous. he's also very, very handsome, distractingly so, "how can it be that no one's fought for the affection of a guy like you?" throughout the wild events of xie lian's life, hua cheng is right by his side. from helping ling wen the librarian organize hundreds of books and scrolls, to uncovering the schemes of pei ming's vengeful ex, to stopping the dangerous "pranks" of xl's insane cousin qi rong.

xie lian and shi qingxuan's dorm is falling apart at the seams. hua cheng spends a day and night with them helping to clean and renovate. he sleeps over (AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED ?!). xie lian wakes up to a new canvas painting on his bedroom wall. it's a beautiful portrait of himself, as a child, with flowers braided in long hair. in the bottom right corner is a signed name that xie lian can now read, the handwriting marginally improved.

xie lian finds that he stops expecting misfortune. he gains friends. his grades improve. at one of shi wudu's lake parties, xie lian nearly drowns, and hua cheng gives him totally unnecessary mouth-to-mouth. (they take this as inspiration to find completely bullshit excuses to kiss in the future.)

later on at the same lake party, they find a moment alone, warming/drying up by a fire pit. hua cheng alludes to being in love with someone who saw him at his worst. xie lian is envious of that. he firmly tells hua cheng that what matters is him, not the state of him.

misc

hua cheng has been going blind in his right eye for over a decade, and by college, he can just make out changes in light with it.

hualian definitely have a "draw me like one of your french girls" scene while their relationship is ambiguous. feng xin walks in and has prayed every day since then that he's knocked on the head so hard he gets amnesia.

hua cheng gradually leaves more and more of his belongings in xie lian's room until he practically lives there ("oh gege, how silly of me, leaving my toothbrush with you for the 23rd time this month 😇").

feng xin still calls xie lian "dianxia"; it was xl's nickname throughout primary school because he was such a beloved little prince 😌

feng xin and mu qing insist they're sworn rivals, but sign up to be each other's dormmates every semester. ("i know mu qing's every move. how many pillows he enjoys sleeping with. how he likes his coffee in the morning. you have to keep a vigilant eye on the enemy, dianxia.")

shi wudu offers xie lian an absurd amount of money to spy on report back weekly updates on shi qingxuan's life. xie lian politely refuses.

pei ming and lang qianqiu are gym lunks. sometimes they workout with xie lian, barely disguising their true intention of competing with each other.

hua cheng will occasionally waste time at a bar owned by he xuan. he plays poker and wins nearly every game by sheer luck. he doesn't bet money, but instead has the losers do something embarrassing for his own entertainment. he gains a fearful reputation, and mixes drinks when he's bored of playing or when no one in the room is brave enough to bet with him.

hua cheng makes up increasingly ridiculous stories as to why he covers his eye when he's asked. "it shoots a deadly laser." "a bear scratched it out, but i took its skin after. it made a nice rug." "my eye is right there. what are you talking about? are you okay?"

xie lian rescues a small, hungry cat he names banyue. he asks hua cheng to house her as he lives off-campus. the conversation goes like this:

"gege..."

"san lang 🥺"

"FINE."

qi rong buys a cat just to copy xie lian and names it guzi.

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simpcityy · 1 year

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I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x platonic reader #Miguel O’Hara x daughter reader #father figure miguel ohara

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bokutoko · 1 month

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Helloo! I saw your request open so I thought to myself let's ask something bout shoyoo!! I want to see how shoyo looks like in ur cute writing hehe, So may I ask for hinata shoyo with anything domestic related? I would love to live in a world where he's my husband. SORRY FOR THEBLONG ASK I hope you're alright with it, have a great day!

late nights

character: shoyo hinata

word count: 707

warning(s): soft husband!hinata, might be slightly ooc but idc, fluff

content: hinata’s new training schedule makes for long days, and you, as his biggest fan, try to wait up for him. does it work? (it doesn’t.)

a/n: MY SWEET ANON!!! i’m so sorry i’m answering this so late—writer’s block was eating me alive pls forgive me. in return, here’s some sweet shoyo <3

Everyone knew Hinata Shoyo was a hard worker—he put blood, sweat, and tears into his sport, gave 100% effort into everything he did. So when he was chosen to represent the Japan Men’s National Volleyball Team in the Olympics, he knew he had to start giving 120% daily. Even earlier mornings, later nights, longer practice days—he took it all in strides, just honored to be afforded this monumental opportunity as a pro-player.

His muscles ached from practice, his hair still damp from the quick locker-room shower. It began curling slightly at the ends as occasional droplets of water fell onto his shirt. A tired sigh left his lips as he opened the door to his humble little one-bedroom apartment.

He quietly entered and slipped off his shoes, the only noise in the apartment being the ticking of the clock. Though in his peripheral, he noticed a light on in the main room—were you still awake??

Entering the living room, the TV had Netflix’s “Are you still watching?” on the screen, and a bowl of what used to be popcorn—only a couple kernels left—sat on the table. He rounded the corner to find you lying on the couch, sleeping soundly, despite the bright TV casting a glow on your face.

Taking in the sight of you, he suddenly felt his cheeks grow hot. You were sporting one of his MSBY shirts—even now, he always reverted into a goofy, lovesick boy at the smallest actions and in the most innocent moments. A simple little kiss? His cheeks are scarlet. You whispering a soft I love you every night before bed? The tips of his ears burn. Just looking at him with a small smile and hearts in your eyes? With a stutter, he’d turn so red that you wouldn’t help but laugh.

By the state of your uncomfortable position on the couch, it was obvious you tried to stay awake to see his return, and his heart ached at the thought. He wished he could stay with you every day and never leave the comfort of your arms.

But of course, you understood the importance of this new adventure—you’d never want to get in way of his dreams. You knew just how hard your husband worked for this very moment, and here it was, staring him in the face and holding out a welcoming hand.

Hinata knelt down, his face level with yours as he studied your sleeping face. Your mouth was slightly parted, causing you to have the softest snore that he found so adorable. Your face was slightly smushed in one of the throw pillows that you picked out. He couldn’t help but smile as he reached a gentle hand to your face, gently tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Wakey wakey,” he whispered as he intertwined his fingers with yours and lightly squeezed your hand. Your eyes barely cracked open, and you let out a soft whine from the awkward position now leaving a crick in your back.

After blinking a couple times and making out some striking orange hair, you mumbled out a soft, “Sho?”

He smiled, his eyes soft with love. “Hey there, sunshine. C’mere,” he scooped you up and carried you like you were weightless, “let’s get you to bed.” You nuzzled into his neck, smelling the subtle citrus scent of his body wash. In the mere seconds it took to walk from the couch to your shared bed, Hinata figured you slipped back into dreamland again. While tucking you into bed, his voice was low and soothing as he whispered how he missed you, how he loved you.

Slipping between the bedsheets, his eyes caught your sleepy gaze. Turns out, you were awake. “I’m sorry I’m home so late,” he whispered, his fingers carding through your hair, “Go on back to sleep, pretty girl. I love you.”

With the moonlight slipping through the curtains, Hinata saw your cheek meet his wrist as you leaned into his touch. You hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his skin and mumbling, “Just glad you’re here now. I love you.”

And with that last declaration of unconditional love, Hinata fell asleep knowing he could do absolutely anything, so long as he had you by his side.

like my work? check out my masterlist!

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

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motorsport-halloween · 2 months

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MOTORSPORT HALLOWEEN FEST

👻 Celebrate the best (spookiest scariest sluttiest) holiday of the year — open to all motorsport RPF writers, artists, creators, and fans!

👹 ao3 collection

💀 join the discord

⬇️ INFO & FAQ

What kind of creative/artistic works are allowed?

Any and all! Fic, art, zines, moodboards, gifs, edits, playlists, meta — if it’s motorsport RPF and Halloween-themed, it’s welcome!

What counts as motorsport?

If one of your main characters can be tagged under a motorsport fandom (e.g. any of the Formulas, IndyCar, MotoGP, etc.), you’re good!

What counts as Halloween-related?

Halloween-related can mean full-blown horror (serial killer in the paddock!), spooky (haunted car?), or, if that’s not your vibe, about Halloween more generally (Halloween is the one day a year when a driver can dress up like a total slut 😏). We’re happy to have you whether you turn your favorite driver into a friendly ghost or put them in a Saw trap.

Please just be sure to warn/tag your work appropriately, and please archive lock your fic if you're posting to Ao3!

Do I have to post to Ao3?

No! If you’d prefer, you can also post on tumblr. Just be sure to tag us @motorsport-halloween so we don’t miss it!

How do prompts work?

Anyone can leave a prompt on Ao3, but you don’t have to claim a prompt to participate — you can do your own thing and then post to the Ao3 collection or to tumblr when it’s time!

When is my fic/art/other work due?

Sign-ups and prompting will open July 15 so everyone has plenty of time to create! Completed works will be posted October 15-31 — the mods will reach out to participants at the beginning of October to schedule posting, so that we can have two full Halloweeks of fun!

How do I post to the collection?

Instructions are here!

Can I invite my friend / mutual / discord server to participate?

Please feel free to invite anyone in the motorsport RPF fandom (as long as they are 18+!)

What if I realize I can’t finish/need more time?

That’s fine! No worries if you need to drop out or need an extension.

What if I’m still confused?

Send us an ask on tumblr @motorsport-halloween or DM one of the mods, @powerful-owl @racecrafting or @officialmood!

OTHER TIPS

The @motorsport-halloween tumblr will be posting prompts and Halloween vibes for inspiration! We won’t be posting anything wildly disturbing, but we will use the following tags to be on the safe side: tw: blood tw: body horror tw: trypophobia

If there’s something else you’d like us to tag (within reason) please send us an ask or DM one of the mods! We want everyone to be able to participate, no matter your comfort level with the more horror-y aspects of Halloween!

The Ao3 HTML script can be found here

If you’re posting to Ao3, make sure you change the date from the date of your draft to the date of publishing!

#f1 #motogp #indycar #formula e #fic fest #motorsport halloween fest #fest info

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moon-and-seraph · 8 months

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Words into Potions: a month-long writing challenge!

We're excited to announce Moon + Seraph's newest event...

Words into Potions (or, WIP!)

Join us this March 1st - 31st for a month-long writing challenge, where any and all types of writing goals are welcome! Use our event to draft a whole novel, outline a new WIP, finish a short story, or accomplish anything writing-related!

We have lots of exciting freebies to help you along the journey!

Track your milestones on a free, downloadable map

Collect digital writing-themed badges

When you reach your goal, randomly pull 1 of 12 digital tarot-inspired cards

Plus, to celebrate our birthday and the event finale on March 31st, we encourage you to post an introduction of your WIP(s) and a wrap-up of all the progress you made. Tag us and we'll reblog your post!

Optionally, join our Discord server to get more out of the Words into Potions writing challenge!

(Learn more about the server here.)

Earn special Discord roles by doing writing sprints

Participate in a weekly writing marathon, where we collectively try to reach a larger goal

Weekly WIP question trades, where we talk about each other's stories and encourage each other to keep writing

Share links to any progress updates you post on Tumblr in our dedicated event promotion channel, and we'll reblog them here

For a sneak peek at our free rewards and more details, read on below!

If you're going to participate or just want to help spread the word, please give this post a reblog! It's very hard for posts to be seen on Tumblr right now, and we really, really want this to find as many writers as possible.

Take a peek at a small section of our milestone map!

As you journey to your writing goal in March, you can also journey through a forest and collect different ingredients from mythical characters, creatures, and locations! Our map milestones are percentage based, which means they'll work for any goal you choose. Whether it's words, pages, hours, or anything else!

This is a super high-res file, so you'll be able to set it as your desktop wallpaper, zoom-in on all the details, and even print it as a poster!

Find our milestone map here!

Find details for printing here!

Here's 3 of our 38 writing badges, designed just for this event!

When we get closer to March we'll release a full list of our badges for you to reference and download throughout the month, or if you're in our Discord server, we'll have an automated system for you to claim your badges!

We encourage you to share the badges you earn on Tumblr, along with your progress! Please @ us in your posts if you do, so we can reblog and encourage you!

Find our writing badges here!

Reach your goal, and randomly pull 1 of 12 digital, tarot-inspired cards!

These are digital, downloadable cards that you can share on Tumblr, set as a phone lock-screen, and even print! We'll have size options for different desktop/phone wallpapers, as well as some dark mode versions!

Find our Winner's Cards here!

Things to Know:

Words into Potions begins on March 1st 2024 and ends on March 31st 2024.

This event is geared toward original fiction writers, but all are welcome to participate.

Our Discord server is 18+ only, with no exceptions.

Our milestone map is free for personal use, but under no circumstances are you allowed to use it for commercial use (any situation in which you profit, financially or otherwise). You may not modify it in any way that obscures the Moon + Seraph watermark, and you may not claim that you created it.

Our writing badges are also free for personal use, but not commercial use, and you can't claim that you created them.

Our tarot-inspired card rewards are also free for personal use, but not for commercial use, and you can't claim that you created them.

Have questions? Send us an ask!

We're very excited about this writing challenge, so we're more than happy to answer any questions you have!

#MS: WIP #writeblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing events #writing event #writing challenge

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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 months

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A Misdemeanor Of The Heart, Chapter 9, Human!Alastor x Married!Reader

Chapter Trigger Warnings: graphic depictions of domestic abuse, rape and suicidal ideation hinted on, time period appropriate racism.

AN: Listen- see those warnings above? I fuckin mean it. If you're not in the right headspace or you need to walk away for a bit, do so. This shouldn't need stating but I will anyway, Laurence is a terrible man and his views are not that of my own.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Streets, shops, and houses passed by in a silent blur. The radio was off and the rumble of the engine was the closest thing to music you had to focus on. That and the rhythmic thump, thump, thump of Laurence’s fingers against the wheel.

Dread churned in your stomach, raising bile that you had no choice but to swallow down. Laurence wouldn’t like it if you vomited in his car. He would like it even less if you asked him to stop for you to do it on the side of the road. It wouldn’t look good. It wasn’t ladylike.

It would just make things worse for you, anyway.

Reaching forward, you switched on the radio. Anything to drown out the deafening silence. Alastor’s voice filled the car, chipper and full of life. He was mid sentence, speaking on the latest body found just outside of town. How could he sound so alive while speaking of the dead?

Laurence reached over and switched the radio off, turning the knob with so much force it was surprising he hadn’t ripped it from the console. The only sounds he would allow you were the steady thumping of one finger after the other hitting the wheel and the rumble of the car, it seemed.

The paper around the flowers crinkled as you pulled them tighter against your chest. When was the last time someone else had gotten you flowers? Laurence used to, back when you were courting but had it happened since the day you wed?

Now that you thought about it, you didn’t think it had. You would buy yourself flowers occasionally. They made the house look and smell good so you justified the expense to yourself when you made the purchase, but no one else ever seemed to gift them to you.

But Alastor? Not only did he give you flowers, but ones he had picked himself. He braved a thorny rosebush to select blooms for you. It was wrong, the way the action made your heart beat faster. All the flowers were was a token of his thanks for a dinner, nothing more. A societal act of propriety. Part of the typical song and dance of acquaintanceship with your husband.

He felt nothing more for you than that. If he did, it didn’t matter, anyway. You were married. There was no changing that. It was nothing but the fleeting daydream of a silly girl.

You walked carefully up the walk, trying hard not to shuffle. Laurence stalked behind you, a looming shadow of darkness and promise. The rattling of his keys in the door hurt your ears. Perhaps it was the sound of your pounding heart that was causing the pain as you stepped inside.

Terror ran through you as you stood in the bright hallway. It looked too welcoming for what you knew was coming. Dust floated through the air, kicked up by the movement of air and highlighted by the bright sunlight streaming through the windows.

After taking a deep breath, you turned to him in the entryway just in time to see the dark storm in his eyes as he latched the door shut and flipped the lock. The look he gave had you stepping back slowly, eyes on him as if backing away from a predator.

Your voice wavered as you said, “I should put these in some water.”

Before you had even made it two steps, Laurence’s hand was on your shoulder. All you could do was let out a gasp as he ripped the flowers from your hands. There was no time to mourn their loss as the back of the hand he held them in struck across your face while he threw the flowers you had been so touched to receive.

Petals fluttered through the air as the bundle of flowers struck the wall. They bounced back at you, a cruel joke as you fell to the floor.

It was one of those strange things your mind locks away, a memory replayed in the deepest of sleeps. Pretty deep red rose petals fluttering through the bright sunlight of your entry, dancing with the dust on their journey to the floor.

Piercing ringing shot through your head with a spike of pain hot on its heels. Your shoulder hit the ground as your neck screamed in pain. The floor was cold and hard under you. Ladies didn’t lay on the floor so you pushed yourself up as best you could, leaning against the wall for support.

“Did you suck his dick?” Laurence roars as his hand fists in your hair, ripping you back off the wall before you could find your feet.

“No!” you cried out, tears gathering in your eyes from the pain. The taste of blood filled your mouth, though you hadn’t actually noticed the pain of your lip splitting. “Laurence, I didn’t! I swear!”

His fist rammed into your side hard, knocking the air out of your lungs. If not for his hand in your hair, you would have doubled over from the pain of it.

“Wrap your pretty little lips around his knob like a dirty whore?!” Laurence shook you while he shouted in your face.

“I didn’t,” you pleaded as Laurence drug you deeper into the house. “I swear! I didn’t do anything!”

“Did you like the taste of his dirty black cock?”

You were stumbling, clinging to his hand wrapped around your hair. Tripping over your own feet, you tumbled to the floor. His pace didn’t slow as he dragged you along by your hair. You could do nothing but crawl, desperate to keep up as you tried and failed to get feet under you until he threw you against the stairs.

Reaching up with trembling hands, you wiped under your nose. Your fingers came back bloody. The split in your lip throbbed now and to top it off, his blows had your nose flowing freely once again.

“Stand up.” Laurence demanded, towering over you.

When you didn’t move fast enough, his strong hand wrapped around your arm in a bruising grip. Laurence yanked you to your feet, not bothering to steady you when your foot slipped off the stair.

“Useless whore,” balling his fist up, he slammed his knuckles into your side once, then twice. On the third strike, you thought could hear the crunch of ribs more than you could feel it.

Was that the sound of bones breaking?

You coughed, blood splattering from your lips in a fine mist. Laurence’s face scrunched up in disgust as he threw you away from him like you were little more than a piece of rubbish. Pain flailed in your pinky as it bent too far back when you hit the stairs again.

Rolling onto your side, you cradled the hand to your chest as gasping sobs tried to rip from your chest. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. You just wanted it over. If it was over, the pain would stop.

“Get up the stairs.” There was no room for argument in Laurence’s voice.

Turning onto your knees and hand, you pushed yourself to your feet. Staggering, hunched over and swaying, you took a few steps. Reaching out, your fingertips grazing the stairs ahead of you, you prepared to catch yourself should your balance fail.

“Hurry up,” His foot landed on your upper back as you just got a good pace going, upsetting your balance.

Curling your back, you did everything you could to keep your torso from hitting the stairs. In doing so, you sacrificed everything else. Your face came down hard on the edge of the stair, pain throbbing through your temple as you turned your head to protect your already bleeding nose. As you slid back down a step, your shins scraped against stairs and smeared blood droplets from your lip and nose.

Groaning, you forced yourself back up. You had to hurry. If you didn’t, he would be more angry. You had to hurry. Faster. Faster. Move faster or it’ll be worse.

You were going as fast as you could and had nearly made it to the top of the stairs before his hand grabbed your hair again. Tripping, you again supported your weight by your scalp in the absence of having your legs under you.

Your feet scraped against the floor as Laurance pulled you along. The door rattled in its frame as he slammed it open. His grip relented as he shoved you into your bedroom. Tears ran down your cheeks, mixing with blood to drip off your chin.

“Please,” you whimpered, voice muffled and nasally because of the clotting blood in your sinuses. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

A strong slap across your face silenced you, sending you back. Instead of the hard floor, you landed on half on the edge of the bed and that was worse. Laurence’s hands were on your legs, shoving you where he wanted you.

Hands pulled at your dress, bunching the skirt of your dress up your thighs. You wanted to push him away. You wanted to kick. You wanted to scream. Instead, you focused on not choking on the blood clots as you took gasping breaths.

He ripped your underwear off you, not caring about the way the fabric burned against your skin. Pulling, yanking, shoving, his hands forced you to turn, chest against the bed and legs dangling over the edge, bent in half. The sound of his belt clinking was nearly lost to the ringing in your ears, yet still sent icy dread through your body.

His hands spread you as he kicked your legs apart. As he spat on you, you buried your head into the blankets. Then you felt it, the burning tip of him as he forced himself inside, not sparing a thought to how it felt like he ripped you in the process.

Would he make you bleed there tonight, too?

“You’re mine,” Laurence seethed as his hips met your flesh. “You belong to me.”

You wanted to bite the bedding to stifle your cries, but when you tried, you quickly found yourself unable to breathe. Tears blurred your vision as he moved above you, ripping you, violating you.

In your heart, you knew you were in this position because of Alastor and yet, when you closed your eyes, it was his face you saw. His smile comforted you as pain you well knew spread through you.

When your eyes opened, you were face down on the ugly green blankets, smears of red blood looking brown and dirty against the backdrop. With your eyes opened, your husband was taking his pleasure from your body while calling you names you dared not even think about.

But when you closed your eyes, you were back in the radio station listening to Alastor talk as he walked at your pace through the halls. His voice filled your ears.

Alastor wouldn’t treat a woman like this. Alastor wouldn’t rape a woman. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you did.

Laurence threw a nightgown at your unmoving form. You watched it flutter onto the bed, a ghost of silk and lace that would feel good against your skin, but you only twitched a fingertip.

You could feel the wetness running down your legs. Blood. Seed. You didn’t know which. Probably both. You needed to get up and clean it up, wipe your face and get changed.

How much time had you lost? You could tell from where the shadows sat and the warm light that the sun was setting. It was after dinner time. You were not hungry. If anything, you felt like vomiting, but that wasn’t what ladies did after seeing to their wifely duty.

An apple landed on the bed. You hadn’t seen Laurence leave, let alone return or throw it at you until it bounced in front of your face. With every blink of your eyes, you tried to fight back the fog and get your bearings.

“I’m going out,” was the only thing Laurence said before walking out the room once again.

You didn’t move as his heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs. He walked across the living room and you listened to the door open. It shut with a slam, then the car roared to life out front. The sound of the engine faded and your fingers twitched again.

You needed to get up. You needed to clean up. You were a mess.

And eventually you did because there was no other choice. Ladies didn’t fail to clean up the mess their husbands made.

You spent ten minutes trying to line the tincture bottle up with the stain on the counter as the fog set in. You’d taken three drops, more than you’d typically dare, but tonight, you needed it. Mechanically, you popped aspirin and wiped up the blood from your body, though it hardly felt like you that did it. Fingers trembled and knees knocked together.

You filled the glass kept on the counter with water and limped into the bedroom, not caring that you were naked. Cold air covered your damp skin in gooseflesh. Tears fell from your eyes, but you hardly noticed them. There were things you needed to take care of.

Your skin was red in places from how you scrubbed, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of running a bath. It would take too long. Tomorrow, you decided, you would wash away the feeling of his hands tomorrow. Tonight, the tincture would take the feeling away. It would take all the feelings away, all the pain away, at least for a little while.

After slipping the nightgown over your head, you shuffled to Laurence’s side of the bed with a small bag of crackers and a cup of water in hand. Laurence wasn’t neat about how he kept his drawer, but it was easy enough to find the pocket knife he kept inside.

Sitting on the bed, you slowly whittled the peel from the apple. You were not hungry, but you knew in time you would be. It was better to eat now when the fog was thickest than try to eat later, when your jaw would surely be screaming in pain.

It hurt to open your mouth, but you managed just wide enough to slip pieces of cracker between cracked lips. You poured a little water in and waited, letting the cracker become mush before working to swallow it. You followed it with small chunks of apple, swallowed whole.

Until the apple was gone, you repeated this process, sipping water between tiny bites to help wash them down.

Once finished, you stashed the wax paper the crackers had been wrapped in back inside your drawer to reuse later. You let the apple core fall from the window, trusting some wildlife would take it and the peel off. It was a slow hobble to the bathroom to wash the knife, dry it and toss it back into the drawer.

You didn’t have the energy to wrestle the blankets back. Instead, you collapsed onto them, hating the way the bed smelled like him, but knowing your body needed every bit of softness in its broken state.

Tomorrow you would clean the blood on the stairs. Tomorrow you would clean the bloody blanket.

Your dreams were filled with the same fog the tincture brought you while you were awake. Brown eyes floated in your mind. A warm chuckle surrounded you, wrapping around you like a blanket. The radio played as you cooked alongside a tall man with fluffy brown hair.

A blink. A shift. Fog blew in and then you were dancing. When was the last time you had danced? It felt like forever ago. It had to have been a lifetime ago. Your wedding day, perhaps?

“Nonsense,” his warm voice washed over you, answering your thoughts. “We dance every night. Have since we met.”

“You’re not my husband?”

“I’m not?” Kind brown eyes, so warm, widened with shock before he laughed. “But is he?”

Your mind swam in and out of sleep as night gave way to morning light. Birds sang their greeting to the day as you groaned. Death had not come for you in the night’s darkness, but part of you wished it had. That part of you whispered a little louder each morning after a bad light with Laurence.

You blinked one eye open, forcing it to focus. The other eye was little more than a slit. Blood flaked off your skin. In the night, the bleeding had resumed, but you were not sure from where yet.

Everything hurt. From your ankles that had twisted as you tumbled and fell to the scalp atop your head where your hair had supported the weight of your whole body.

You were no stranger to beatings, but this was by far one of the worst. Laurence had never been that angry with you before. Part of you was surprised he hadn’t killed you. Part of you wished he had.

Such thoughts were sinful. You needed to be thankful for the gift of life. It was a gift from God above. You struggled to care as your body screamed.

The house was silent. There was no sign of the man you called husband as you looked around. Moaning, gasping shallow breaths through broken lips, you forced yourself to your feet.

Morning sun and the absence of Laurence’s car in front of the house greeted you. People walked along the sidewalk as if it was any other day. For them, you guessed, it was. They did not know the horrors that hid within the pretty blue house halfway down the street.

That was just as well. You couldn’t pretend right now. Shuffling, stumbling, limping. There was no real word to describe your gait as you did all of those things at the same time while you made your way to the bathroom.

You spared the tub a glance but decided against it. There was no chance you’d be able to get out of the tub even if you managed to get in. It would be a while yet before you could wash away what was done to you.

You took a few more pills before picking up the tincture bottle. It sang to you, calling in a voice that promised sweet relief from the pain and the thoughts both. Instead of taking the top off, you painstakingly returned it to its place.

Pain was a useful tool. Pain would keep you from overdoing it. Pain would help you heal.

The mirror revealed a woman that looked nothing like you. Yet, you wondered if under your skin and fake smiles, this is what you had spent the last few years of your marriage looking like. Perhaps this was your face, hidden from the world and yourself. This was the face of the woman Laurence had made you.

Filling the sink basin with water, you grabbed a towel and set to work carefully mopping up blood. The water turned pink with each dip of the bloody rag. You avoided looking at your hand, your stiff little finger didn’t seem to work right and any attempt to use it shot pain up your arm.

That needed to be dealt with, but you didn’t know how to even go about it. That was a later problem. First, you needed to pull yourself together.

Looking away from the woman in the mirror and her broken, battered face, you began the shuffle down the hall. Your hand braced you against the wall. Every breath you took sent pain through your ribs. You wanted to not breathe at all anymore, but that wasn’t an option.

Gripping the railing, you carefully lowered yourself down the first step. Your hips and thighs screamed at you. It felt like rust had settled in your joints. The next step was just as painful. Your foot missed the third step, sending you crashing down.

The only thing that had saved you was your hand on the railing, slowing your fall before it slipped free, only to catch you again as it wrapped around a bannister. Pain exploded through your chest, radiating everywhere.

Vision faded to black as you struggled to pull a breath.

How long did you lay on the stairs?

When you opened your eyes, you saw the wooden steps. The railing rose out of your line of sight. On the steps were little red circles. Reaching out, you ran your fingertips over blood.

Not fresh. No, this was evidence of the prior night. Tears swam in your vision as you cried. Each painful sob felt like it could end your life and you hoped it would.

Sinning again. The Lord wouldn’t give you a burden you could not carry, you told yourself. Be stronger. Be enough and rise above.

Closing your eyes, you saw warm brown eyes. Maybe you’d cry yourself to sleep on the stairs and return to a dreamland where Laurence wasn’t the man your family had married you off to. Maybe sleep would claim you and take you to a world where you danced with Alastor instead.

Tag list in the comments Next? Masterlist

#Alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hazbin x you #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x oc #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor #human!alastor #human!alastor x reader

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ellecdc · 6 months

Note

Hellooo, so I see you opened your requests 🥸 I am a new member of the The Marauders fandom and you have been my go to and all time favorite writer. First want to thank you for all the effort you must put in for us goblins. I am also very new to even really interacting on tumblr outside of the anonymous option. So hellooo! Any way onto the request if you ever feel like it, I get horrible migraines and to deal I tend to look really goofy with a compression cap and ice face mask on and during my recent episode I couldn’t help but think about how any of your lovey boys would react to their partner looking crazy with all that gear on 🙃. This is weirdly specific so ignore if it doesn’t sing for you. But thanks again for the art you share!❣️🌿

hi sweets! first of all: WELCOME TO THE MARAUDERS FANDOM!?!? please help yourself to any seat and don't hesitate to ask any questions you may have (there's a lot of complicated shipnames, canon vs. fanon theories to learn). second of all: OMG are you kidding me!? well thank you, that's quite an honour, but feel free to check out these authors I mentioned previously. thirdly: I love you little goblins 😭😭😭😭

also, since you didn't specify which marauders boy - I opted to give you all of the ones (that I write for) as headcanons 🫶

How various Marauders era boys would react to your migraine get-up

James Potter:

he'd open the door to the bedroom to find you laying there, prone in your pain

immediately "oh angel!!!!" causing you to wince in pain and shush him

he'd acquiesce but he'd whimper quietly as if your pain was causing him pain

he'd start flitting around the room: pulling the blackout curtains shut tightly, placing a glass of water and some pain meds beside you

you'd finally have to banish him from the room, though, on account of his various noises (poor dude couldn't manage silence if his life depended on it)

when you started to feel better, however, you'd take the sleep mask off but not the cap and head out to the living space to find James had closed every curtain in the whole flat, he had turned on a humidifier just on the off chance it helps relax you, and started a pot of tea for you

"I've got the hot pack here if you'd like me to warm it up for you?" he'd offer quietly, still looking particularly pained at your sorry state

"Can I just have a hug?" you'd ask pathetically and he'd coo (quietly) and embrace you gently as if you were about to break

"I'm sorry your partner looks so silly when you come home to them." you laughed, thinking about the ice/compression cap you were still wearing

"you've never looked more beautiful"

Sirius Black:

I believe he'd get very nervous to see someone in pain whether it be physically or mentally - but particularly a pain that was mental or internal (like a migraine vs a cut etc) because he wouldn't know how to fix it and he'd feel useless

He would whisper a cautious "hey baby" as he entered and move so slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible "what happened?"

he knows nothing happened, just that you're hurting: but again, he doesn't know how to fix this and he hates it

"What do you need?" he'd ask as he'd lie down cautiously beside you, itching to reach out but not knowing if it would be okay.

"Nothing." you'd mutter, and immediately feel bad for being short with him. "nothing, I'm sorry. just some time." you'd correct, reaching your hand tentatively across the space to touch his hand, which he'd quickly albeit gently take in his own

"okay." he'd say simply

you waited for the bed to move to signal his departure, but he never left.

he just laid there with your hand in his, watching you quietly

you wouldn't notice this in your state, but he was taking dramatic breaths for your benefit: deep breaths in, holding, and deep breaths out, silently encouraging you to align your breathing with his, which you did subconsciously

you'd wake up later in much the same way - him still on his side watching you (or perhaps he fell asleep too) and your hand still in his

he'd apologize to you as if your pain was somehow his fault, but it was because he felt helpless when you needed him

you'd thank him for his help and he'd relax immediately

Remus Lupin:

Remus is no friggen stranger to chronic pain and flare ups

he wouldn't even say anything, he'd just adjust his footing so he made as little noise as possible

he'd gently press a kiss to your shoulder, to make sure you knew he was here (though he knew with your head the way it was, you would have likely heard his keys all the way down the hall of the apartment building

he'd make himself busy in the flat - soup ready for when you woke up, tea ready to be brewed should you want some, lights off, curtains closed

he'd come by in a bit and quietly tell you to sit up, helping you replace your no longer cold ice mask and cap with new ones

you'd pathetically ask him if he would stay and he'd breathe out in relief because really - that's what he's wanted from the beginning

Regulus Black:

"what's this? what happened?" he'd ask urgently, thinking you'd been hurt or something

"sh! I have a migraine" you'd moan back.

he'd make a pitying tsk sound and make for you

totally babying behaviour "what do you need? do you want food? do you want more blankets? less blankets? a new watch? I'm going to order you a new watch"

you'd banish him from the room for the coddling and when you return to the living area later - he will be surrounded by bags because he had gone shopping and returned with the most ridiculous things: clothes, food, jewellery, blankets, pillows

"I didn't know what you might need." He'd say, slightly shy

"I needed a nap, Regulus." you'd laugh.

"well...you deserve all of this anyway."

and then he'd spend the rest of the evening doing low-impact stuff for your head. reading you a book quietly, gentle conversation, maybe run you a bath

bonus! Barty Crouch Jr:

"who did this?" he'd bark as he saw you in the fetal position with your gear on

"christ, Barty. please be quiet"

"what happened?" he'd demand, quieter but no less intense.

"I just have a migraine."

a switch would flip. he'd ready the room for you (curtains, quiet, water, pills, he'd set up a fan pointed at you.)

then he'd sit outside of the door to your flat and violently threaten anyone walking in the hallway if they make so much as a whisper of noise in this flats direction.

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wands-natsthing · 12 days

Text

Snuggle Bug

This story was on my old acct @wandanatsthings I made a new one (aka this one) which will be the acct I use from now on.

Hey, anon I hope this is what you wanted and that you and everyone else enjoy it as well. and remember clinginess is adorable and I love all my snuggle bugs!! Feedback is more than welcomed. New writer

(P.s Im dyslexic i'm trying my best)

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: I really don't think there are any maybe missing someone and clingy reader? It’s just really fluffy!!

Summary: Wanda gets home from a tiring mission to a very snuggly reader who missed her.

Wanda’s Pov

I had just gotten home from a tiring mission that involved a lot of heavy lifting. Everything went fine but I had to pick up a lot of heavy things with my fingers and I know It may seem like nothing but not only does that take a lot out of me physically but mentally as well. All I wanted was to cuddle up with you. I had some making up to do after how early I left you this morning for said mission.

When I walked through the door of our apartment. I saw you lying on the sofa in the living room wearing my favorite burgundy hoodie with white and gray stripes on the sleeves. You also happened to have on my favorite gray sweatpants to match. You loved wearing my clothes, you said it made you feel closer to me which I thought was so utterly precious.

As I approached you I saw our pet cat (Someone should name the cat) jump off your lap to come and greet me. “Hi sweet girl, did you watch over your mama hmm,” I said bending down to pet the fluffy cat that by the looks of it had been given just one too many treats. I heard TV playing so I looked up to see that you were watching my favorite sitcom “The dick van dyke show.” Before we started dating you had no interest in sitcoms and said that they were too “cheesy” but with a lot of convincing, I got you to watch one episode with me and from then on you've been hooked. I might even go as far as to say you liked them more than me. When I walked closer towards you I saw you had dried tears running down your face.

My heart broke at the sight. You had always taken it hard when I had to leave you alone for anything. Whether that be a mission or just to go to the bathroom you hated when I left you by yourself; If you could be with me then you were and to be honest I had no problem with that. Deciding that I was no longer going to make you go through the torture of my skin not being on yours. I reach down and place a hand on your cheek with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Detka…detka love wake up im home.”

That was enough to wake you up. You were never a deep sleeper unless I was sleeping with you, you could sleep almost anything then. It was something about me being close to you that made you feel safe you once said that time I asked. You opened your eyes, squinting a little to adjust to the light.

As soon as you noticed that it was me, you immediately jumped up from your place on the sofa and wrapped your arms around my neck and legs around my waist. “You're home, I missed you!” You exclaimed a smile taking over your face, erasing any evidence of the tears that once took that smile's place. “Yes I am home and I missed you, more sweet girl,” I said while placing my arms under your thighs making sure you wouldn’t fall as I made my way over to sit in the chair that was in the corner by the TV. “How was the mission? Are you hurt or anything?” You asked while checking me over. “No no I'm fine don’t worry love, the mission went well. I'm tired but okay I promise.” I say holding out my pinky finger knowing that pinky promising would be the only way to ease your anxiety.

“What about you hm? How are you, what'd you do while I was gone?” I asked you to bring your head to my chest. “I didn’t do much. Just watched TV, took a nap, and waited for you.” You said looking up at me with your y/e/c eyes through your lashes. “Mm that sounds peaceful, how about we continue that minus the waiting for me of course after lunch? Have you eaten yet?” “No, I haven’t, I was trying to wait for you.” You reply. “Okay let's go have some lunch and then we’ll continue your amazing peaceful day. How does that sound?” I asked, looking down at you in my lap. You nodded up at me. “Sounds good.”

With that, I stand up off the chair with you still in my arms kola style not even thinking about having you let go knowing that would just upset you. It was a task making us lunch with you in my arms but not impossible. We make our way to the dining room table with you holding one plate and me holding the other.

I set you down in your usual seat that is straight across from mine. I picked up my fork ready to dig into the Caesar salads I prepared for lunch when I noticed you were pouting and not even attempting to start eating. “What’s wrong with love?” I asked you with patience in my voice. You look up with the face you do anytime you want something. “Can I sit in your lap and eat please?” I look at you with nothing but love on my face. “Of course, you can love to get over here,” I say while pushing my chair back to make room for you. You clamber in my lap already with your frown turned right side up making it into a smile digging into your lunch. When we finish lunch I get you off my lap so I can put our dishes in the sink to be washed later. I then grab your hand so that we can head upstairs to finish the rest of our day with cuddles.

When we get to our room I head off into the closet so that I can change into something more comfortable. While taking off my shirt, I feel you come up behind me and wrap your arms around my waist. “What are you doing lovely?” I ask, sounding muffled because of the shirt covering my face. “Um, I have an idea.” I hear you sound nervous. “Oh yeah and what’s that?” I ask while taking my shirt off completely. “Do you think we could cuddle naked? I just really wanna feel your skin on mine.” I look down at you and say. “I would love to cuddle naked with you.” We both walk over to the bed while taking off our clothes on the way. When we reach the bed we get under the covers. I bring you into my chest and within minutes you're asleep. I gently kiss your forehead “You will forever be my snuggle bug.” I say then drift off to sleep myself without a thought or worry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feedback is welcomed and very much appreciated!!

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ukit4m4 · 9 months

Text

★┆ “Bi-Han is definitely the type of guys that doesn't go only for 1 round.“

FEM READER / HUSBAND!BIHAN / NOT A REQUEST

- Warning(s) : full NSFW short fic, multiple rounds, a bit of struggling, br33ding for a couple times, SLOWBURN NSFW, fingering. THIS ISN'T R///PE. HIS WIFE IS JUST ULTRA SENSITIVE PLZ DON'T CANCEL ME GRAHHH🙏🏻🙏🏻

- Writer's note : I'm having so much husband!bihan brainrot bare with me also it's my first time writing a long fic so erm yea ignore typos. reblogs are very appreciated!!! Core means the thing between your legs. your welcome.

Bi-Han enters their shared room, noticing that his wife isn't in there, and the bathroom's water running. She's probably taking her usual random night shower. Bi-Han sighs, and goes to takes his gears off. He'd place them on the table, and his wife walks out of the bathroom, a bit startled of his presence.

"Oh, Bi-Han. You're home early," She says. Bi-Han didn't meet her gaze, already knowing she's only covered in her shower towel. "Hn," Bi-Han huffs, and took off his uniform, revealing his under dark blue shirt. His wife shrugs, already used to his dismissal. She then goes to her closet to pick a pajama.

Bi-Han looks into his mirror, which shows a reflection of himself and his wife, behind him, at her closet, searching for an outfit. His jaw clenched, seeing how the towel wraps around her small waist. Her hair is slightly damp, probably because she took some time drying it in the bathroom. Bi-Han could feel the painful stiffness against his pants' fabric.

Bi-Han then turns around, walking up to his wife. "Y/N." He called out. His wife turns around. "Huh?" Bi-Han then reach out, turning her around and straight up kissing her. His wife's eyes widened, not used to this.. kind of gesture. Bi-Han deepened the kiss, one of his hand on her waist, another on her hip.

Bi-Han then breaks the kiss, trailing his lips to her neck, a sensitive spot, that is. His wife whimpers lowly, hand rested on his back. "Wha-" She was about to ask a question when Bi-Han cuts it off. "No questions. I just want you for the night, wife." Bi-Han says sternly.

With a swift motion, Bi-Han would take off the towel off his wife's body, revealing her whole body for his eyes only. "Relax," Bi-Han says, noticing her squirms. She's probably nervous. "I am." She replied. Bi-Han kissed her again, pressing his body against her so that she could feel his hardness.

His hand from her waist leaves the spot, then trails down to her core. He then started to rub her clit surprisingly gently. She gasps, squirming even more. "B- Bi-Han-" She mumble, while one of his finger made it's way inside her slowly. "Sshhh,.." Bi-Han coo, his eyes focused on her core.

His finger that's inside his wife is cold, making her squirms even more against the wall. He then starts stroking her walls, making her whimper softly. His hand on her hip moves, pushing her head gently to his chest so that her whimper is slightly muffled. Her back arches, and he added another finger. His pace fastens, making her melt into him.

"Let it go. Cum for me," He commanded. After a few hard and fast thrust, the damp broke, and she reached her climax, shuddering slightly. Bi-Han's fingers slowed, but didn't stop. After he prolongs her climax as long as possible, he finally stops and slowly pulls out. He pulled his wife away, and kissed her deeply. "Good girl." He murmurs against her lip.

Suddenly, Bi-Han picked her up, and brought her to the bed. He placed her head against the pillow, and he looms above her. "You're mine, and I'll take you anytime and anywhere I want too," Bi-Han whispers against her ears as he continues kissing her jaw and his hands roams around her body. Bi-Han then unzips his pants, pulling it off. He then pulls his shirt off.

Oh shit, he's big. Her wife let out a half-whimper half gasp, squirming in place. "What?" Bi-Han raised an eyebrow, positioning himself between her legs. "W- Will it even fit..?" His wife asked nervously. Bi-Han groans lowly, kissing the crook of her neck. "Of course it will. I'll make it fit," He smirks against her skin. He leaned forward, kissing her once again as he eased himself inside her slowly.

She gasp into the kiss, and his tip gave her cervix a little kiss. Her legs jolts. Bi-Han breaks the kiss. "You're alright." It's not a question, but a statement. He then starts moving. Her legs are pulled over by his hands, making it easier for him to thrust into her. "A- Ahn.. sl- slow down, Bi- Bi-Han-.." She pleaded between moans. He heard it, but instead, his pace quickens.

To add more flavors, his head leans down, catching one of her nipple into his mouth. His tounge would swirl around it, making her gasp and shudders even more. He left the nipple with a pop, quickening his pace once again. "You're mine, aren't you? I'll make you really really mine tonight," He'd murmur, she reached her climax once again, and her walls clinches around him.

He smirked when he felt and heard her gasp, his climax following behind too. Finally, he'd bury himself deep inside her, grinding against her as he let himself go deep into her. She could feel the warmness(?) inside her. She pants, thinking that Bi-Han is already satisfied. She already hit climax twice, so her core is really sensitive.

Bi-Han's breath also turns slightly ragged, and he also seems flustered. But, he made no move of pulling out. "You're mine now. There's a piece of me inside you, forever." Bi-Han says. He then kissed her, suddenly starts to move again. His wife gasps into the kiss, her legs jolting slightly. She squirms, back arching and all. "Relax." He commands.

"Ng- Ngh..~ Bi- Bi-Han- I can't-.." She mumble against his lips. Bi-Han pulled away, but didn't stop. "Yes, you can." He says, quickening his pace. His finger then goes to one of her nipple again, pinching and playing with it surprisingly gently. His wife moaned sweetly, music to his ears. She felt so good, too good. Oh, god. She never thought her possesive, cold and arrogant husband could make her feel like this.

"I- I'm— cumming..!" She moaned. "Go on." Bi-Han replied. His fingers left her nipple, then goes to her clit, rubbing it again. As if adding oil to the fire, she reached her climax once again. Her insides clinches around him, and his pace quickens that ever. He then leans forward, kissing her as he came inside her again, flooding her walls. It dripped around him and into the sheets.

He broke the kiss, smirking smugly. "There you go." He says. His wife pants, face flushed than ever. "Are you alright?" He asked. She nodded. "Mhm.." He pulled out, softening already. He then rolled over to her side, and pulled her close. "Rest, then." He commanded. Her breath calms down so did she, and she nuzzles into his chest.

THE END

#bi han fic #bi han #bi han x reader #sub zero #writing #bi han mk #fluff #smut #mk1 fanfic #bihan x fem reader #bihan x yn #heehee #spicy stuff #writing problems #ukitama writes

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lvlyghost · 1 year

Text

All The Nights to Come

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You get hurt during a mission.

Word Count: 900+

Tw: strong language, blood, angst, comfort towards the end. grumpy ghost as usual. bad grammar, and probably a lot of typos. not proofread 🫶🏻✨💞

A/N: just a little one-shot to help me with writer's block. next I'll be working on another part of salvation and a third part of the things i never said since a lot of you asked 🥹💛 remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍

Masterlist✨

You didn't know how to stay out of danger. Or at least that's what all of your teammates said. Especially Ghost.

Ghost. You had a complicated... relationship with the Lieutenant.

Polar opposites.

That's what he had called you both one day.

He's the darkness that comes at night, you're the light he'd gladly let consume him.

"Stop distracting me." He grumbles staring straight ahead. You chuckle at his growing annoyance.

"We're in the middle of nowhere, Ghost. The worst thing that could happen is tripping with a rock." You roll you eyes. "How about we play something, we still have one hour left until we reach the evac point."

"No."

"Comen on! There's no one around." He sighs, but doesn't say anything. You decide to not push his limits. You've started to know him more and more, as much as he would allow, of course. "Is something bothering you?" you finally ask, head tilting down to watch your step. Again the only response you get is silence. "If this is about what happened last night..."

"It's not that." He gruffly interrupts you. Irritated that you're even bringing it up.

"You were the one who said this couldn't happen anymore. So you might as well make up your mind Ghost." You walk faster, leaving him behind, or as much as you can considering his strides are easily longer than yours.

"I am your superior, what the fuck am I supposed to do, kid?" You clench your jaw, hating how his words are setting deep in your heart. The way he emphasized the word superior. "I could get us both suspended, or even worse get us kicked out of the military! Am I really the only one who's thinking?" He seethes.

"Oh well!" You feign amusement. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you cared enough when were fucking each other in my room..." Ghost's body freezes for a brief second before he keeps walking. "If you're bloody scared of letting me in you should've just said it. No need to fucking hurt me like I'm nothing."

"The fuck did you just say? Have you not heard a word I just told you?!" His accent becoming more prominent every time he speaks. "I'm trying to protect you, I don't bloody care what happens to me."

Ghost doesn't notice it, too enraged, looking down at you as he walks closer. But you do.

You see the reflection, a small glimpse of the scope. The sun shining down on the sniper's rifle. Everything moves in slow motion, you scream... or at least you try to, pushing Ghost with all the strength you have. He stumbles a few steps to the side, the pure shock in your face as you realize what's about to happen. A bird chirping in the distance, and what sounds like a cascade near, a river flowing before it hits you. Right on your left shoulder, a shot that was aimed at his heart.

Ghost's heart.

And you take it instead. It pierces through flesh and bones, hurting like million of bullets. Your sight goes black as you start falling, body helplessly hitting the muddy terrain. Shots are fired, a loud shriek and a deep voice echoing but it's so far away. It's getting harder to regain consciousness.

"Why the bloody hell did you do that!?" Fear glowed in his eyes. Ghost's big gloved hand pressing down the wound on your shoulder, the fabric quickly becomes stained with crimson red blood.

Your blood.

"S-Sir?" You choke up. Fighting to keep your eyes open.

Focus on him.

"I'm going to fucking have you on desk rotation for this." He grits his teeth. "Don't you do that ever again. Not for me. Never for someone like me." He leans closer, managing your body in his hands so he can take a better look. He breathes when he sees the exit wound.

"It's my duty..." you murmur, with half-lidded eyes. "To shield and protect my superiors..." you breathe out.

"Don't give me that shite." He scolds you. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect my team." Not just his team. The truth was that he wanted to protect you, he had to. "Now keep those pretty eyes on me, yeah? That's an order sergeant." He commands.

You laugh, with what low energy you have left.

"Sir? You and I both know I'm not good at following orders." He reaches his medical pouch, disinfecting and wrapping as many bandages as he can on your wound.

"Now's a good time you start listenin', kid." He picks you up with more gentleness that's he's ever experienced himself. Who would've thought that a man like him could care for someone else. He has the softest touch, you think. "Think you can hold on until we get there?" He asks, looking down to your face, body too small and light in his arms. If he could kiss you right now...

"Sure thing, Ghost." You murmur, wincing when he starts walking. "This is not what I had in mind when they said we were going to Spain. We could play that game now, right?

A soft chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, making your lips tilt up in a weak yet heartwarming smile.

"Fuckin' hell, love" he doesn't lose sight of your eyes. "I guess we can. As long as you keep talking to me. Don't you dare go somewhere I can't follow."

"Don't think you'll get rid of me that easily, Sir."

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yerimsdreams · 3 months

Text

All Bark, No Bite

author's note: the way I planned for this to be something cute and then it turned into... this. lol.

zaros kymen atha'lin x earis!reader (they/them pronouns are used).

warnings: swearing. mention of death. tombstone. crying.

''Why won't you just tell me what happened, mother? It's about my own brother!'' The Earis exclaimed in frustration, following their mother like a lost duckling.

Queen Roena shook her head, continuing to make her way out of the library. She'd originally gone to check up on her child's progression with their studies for the upcoming trial of debate, but it had quickly turned into another interrogation on her son's death and the late Atha'lin matriarch's involvement in it.

''Mother! I deserve to know!'' Their plea went in vain once again as the Eminence almost reached the doors.

''Mum, please.''

The Queen halted at the two words. They sounded like a child, one that would ask their parents to check under their bed to see whether there was a creature lurking there or not. She hadn't heard them sound so desperate in years, maybe ever.

The older woman turned around, guilt dripping all over her face. The ruling monarch was not one to wear her heart on her sleeve. However, every emotion she was feeling in that moment was visible for the world to see.

''I can't, my darling,'' she sighed, ''it's in the past. It shall remain there.'' With one last sad smile, she opened the doors and departed from the library, leaving her hopeless child behind.

The Earis simply stood there, feeling the weight of their mother’s words pressing down on them. The library didn't feel like the warm and welcoming place it had always been for them, instead a cold breeze had settled over the vast book-lined hall.

They let the tears fall, not blinking them back like they were used to doing. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness planted itself inside of them. Why couldn't anyone just tell them the truth? Why does everyone have to be so secretive and vague about the subject?

Despite the grand state of the library, it felt as if they would be swallowed up by it if they stayed a second longer. It was as if the books were mocking them. Thousands of figures of history laughing in their face, the poems of the finest writers were pointing at them and falling over from amusement.

Their shoulders slumped, the Earis turned away from the door and wiped the tears from their face. They needed to get out, to breathe fresh air and clear their mind.

They made their way through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, moving swiftly towards the gardens. The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the library. They let out a deep breath of relief once they were outside, the scent of all the various flowers providing a pleasant distraction.

The garden was quiet, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. All the nobles had gone back to their own respective homes, while the staff of the Royal Family were done with their duties for the day and had retreated to their quarters.

The heir walked along the winding paths until they reached their brother's memorial. They sat down next to the stone plaque that carried their sibling's name.

''What really happened to you? Why won't Mother tell me? Why won't anyone tell me the truth of it?'' The questions that had been haunting them tumbled out in a whisper. Their voice broke on the last few words, and they buried their face in their hands, letting the tears flow freely again.

"Out and about so late, my Earis?'' A familiar voice sounded from the shadows, breaking the comfortable silence that had been present. ''People might start to think you're engaging in promiscuous activities with a secret companion.'' Despite not looking at him, they could hear the smirk playing on his lips.

''Begone, Zaros.'' There wasn't much energy behind their words, just pure exhaustion. They weren't in any mood to deal with his snarky comments.

Zaros, sensing the weariness in their tone, stepped out from the shadows and approached them. His signature grin faded as soon as he saw the tears glistening on their cheeks. He stood there, uncertain on how to proceed.

''What happened?'' He asked quietly, hesitantly taking a few steps closer to them.

The Earis turned towards him, roughly wiping their tears away. ''Just go! I do not want to hear from you at this moment.''

He paused, concern etching his features. "Did someone harm you?" His posture straightened as the question left his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing.

They let out a bitter laugh, shaking their head. "No, no one has harmed me. Just leave me be."

But Zaros didn't move. Instead, he crouched down in front of them, trying to catch their gaze. ''Please, you appear burdened beyond measure. For someone or something to break your mask like this… please, speak to me.''

''Why? So you can use my hardships against me later?'' Their head snapped towards him, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and pain.

He lightly flinched at the accusation, but remained composed. ''I have no intention of doing that. You're crying in the garden, all by yourself, everyone can see that something has transpired.''

They turned away, their gaze focused on their brother's stone, frustration boiling over. "You're only here to enjoy my suffering. Begone, please, at once!''

''I am not here for my own entertainment. We may no longer be as close as we once were, but I am not indifferent to your pain. Now, please, tell me what happened?'' Zaros insisted, his tone earnest.

The Earis momentarily lifted their head to meet Zaros' eyes. They tried to find something that would tell them he had another impertinent comment waiting, but they did not find it. Instead, they found his soft eyes, and genuine distress on his face.

They sniffed, and took a deep breath. ''I, uh, have been asking my mother about what you said about your grandmother, uh, snatching my brother,'' their voice became small at the mention of their sibling, ''she won't tell me anything, she refuses. I just asked her about it again, moments ago in the library, but she brushed me off.''

Zaros frowned at their admission. ''It was not my intention to cause a rift between you and your mother.''

They shook their head. ''I know that, it's not your fault. I just… I feel as if I do not know my family at all. Ever since the contention, strange things have been happening, and I don't know what or who to believe anymore.''

His expression softened at their words. ''I understand. I still believe it is not up to me to tell you what happened regarding your late brother, but… I do feel for you.''

The Earis sarcastically chuckled. ''You feel for me? That's a first.''

Zaros sighed, undeterred by their sarcasm. ''Stop that. Just because of what happened in the past does not mean I do not care for you or wish to see you discontented. I could have walked away the moment I saw you here, but I stayed. Do with that what you will.''

They wanted to believe him, to trust that his concern was genuine, yet years of bitterness stood between them like an impenetrable wall. ''You expect me to believe that you suddenly care about my well-being?''

''Yes, I do,'' he retorted, ''I am not lying when I say that seeing you like this pains me.'' He admitted, his full attention on them.

The Earis stares for a few moments before groaning, their hands covering their face again. ''Why do you always do that?''

''Do what?'' Zaros questioned, confused.

''One sentence you'll completely tear me and my character apart, and in the next you- you say things like that.''

Zaros shifted uncomfortably. ''I don't tear you apart, I simply say the hard-''

''Hard truths, yeah. You've said it plenty.'' They interjected, rolling their eyes.

''So you do know it?'' The teasing gentleman made a small return. ''Anyway- I do not mean to hurt you with my words, I just want to give you a different perspective.''

''You simply wish to remind me of all my flaws, Zaros. Don't play dumb, it does not suit you.''

Zaros's smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. ''I speak harshly because I believe in your strength. I challenge you because I know you can rise to it. You are the heir to the throne. There is the possibility that you will become ruler, so I might just as well put both your feet back on the ground. It is for the good of the realm.''

They were still guarded, so they let out a scoff. ''For the realm,'' she repeated, ''for the realm or for the good of your own family? The, oh, so noble Atha'lin line who care about the smallfolk and their troubles while they drown themselves in the royal wealth, and feast on the food and wine which they pay for with the little money they have.''

His face tightened, their words slowly sinking in. ''Do not speak of my fa-''

''Not speak of your family? All you do is speak on me and my family. I understand your anger, and it is justified. But you are a hypocrite, Zaros. You bark and bark, but as soon as I turn it around on you, you put on your cloak of high morality and point the finger at me for everything that is wrong with Serulla,'' the gates had opened, and there was no closing them now.

''You think all it takes for the common folk to have you in their favor is to lower some fucking taxes? You believe that by sneering at the noble families, the ones that will work in your Council if you become king, you will actually achieve change? Well, you are greatly mistaken. You know nothing about what it takes to rule a Dominion, especially not one like ours. Your mother is using you for her own bidding, to lift her own status- you are only too blind to see it.''

Zaros recoiled as if struck, his expression hard to read. It seemed to have taken him a few extra seconds to fully comprehend their words. Once it had hit him, he quickly stood back up, though he didn't move away from them.

The Earis watched him in their peripheral vision, puzzled on why he stayed standing there, fully expecting him to have made his way into the castle by now.

''You and I have more in common than we allow ourselves to think at times.'' He remarked, gazing into the Serullan night sky.

Their own vision stayed on their brother's engraved name, hoping an answer would appear to help them out of this situation.

Zaros continued at their silence. ''We both want the best for our families, and we'll both go to the absolute end for them- no matter the cost.''

''This is a high cost you are paying, Sarl Zaros.'' They uttered back, looking up at his figure.

''It is, My Earis.''

#zsakuva #zaros atha’lin #zsakuva zaros #zaros x reader #sakuverse

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sailor-aviator · 5 months

Text

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

#psa #public service announcement #this has been a psa #liz speaks #liz rambles #long post

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