#it felt like mid fanfiction

[boner4murder]

my main thing is that it felt like my hand was being held through watching it? but not in a good way? that doesn’t make any sense but i’m in math class so please excuse me

[onebizarrekai]

totally regular, non-bad boys in secret life (sessions 1-3)

[terrestrialtoads]

satosugu has ruined me so much that I accidentally wrote a fanfic about them😭😭

[charlotte-zophie]

Therapy conversation

Dear Fandom, dear Mr. Gaiman,

I hope this isn´t weird but i have something to confess.

Since I watched the second season of Good Omens, I've gone through so many phases that I barely recognize myself anymore.

My first reaction after episode 6 was shock, then I was disturbed because I didn't know that it was possible for a series to have such a strong influence on my psyche, I questioned myself and doubted my sanity. Then I was overcome by an incredible sadness and was really heartbroken. I felt like a pubescent teenager, in my mid-30s. I couldn't sleep properly for several days, had nightmares and my thoughts were with these two ineffable loving idiots the whole time.

And the worst thing about it was that for the first few days I was really ashamed to admit to myself and my husband that I was completely and hopelessly immersed in this world. I did nothing but watch videos, listen to sad songs, and read heartbreaking fanfictions for days. And of course I read the book again and watched the series over and over again. All in the hope that it will ease my heartache a little.

But as is often the case in these situations, after a few days in which no real change occurs, you have the thought that you will be lost in this feeling forever. But since I have 3 children that I need to look after, of course locking myself away for weeks with heartbreak wasn't an option, so I had to find an outlet for myself to channel my pain.

So I started painting a picture. By Aziraphale and Crowley. And stroke by stroke I let my feelings flow out of me and into the picture.

It took over a week until I had a motif in which I could see my thoughts and feelings expressed and then it took another week until I finished the picture. On an old canvas with paints that haven't been used for a long time, with many, many layers of old paint underneath.

But when the picture was finally finished, it really took a load off my mind. It was like I had broken a dam and was finally able to let it all out and convert it into creative energy.

But I think the most important thing was that I uploaded the picture to Tumblr and received such a response that I was incredibly touched and immediately motivated to paint more pictures.

Since that day, hardly a moment goes by when I am not holding a pen in my hand or not thinking about a new picture. I'm in one of the most creative phases in a very long time and I'm really enjoying it.

I am so grateful for the wonderful people here! Here I see that I'm not alone with my strange feelings that I still don't really know how to classify. Here I read thoughts that are so similar to mine, here I see works of art that melt my heart, here I feel understood!

And I am so grateful for the pain that showed me the way back to my creative energy!

Thank you Fandom!

Thank you Neil Gaiman!

I would have been lost without you!

Because I don't know my way around here very well, I didn't think about pinning the picture in question as a link when I created this post, but since many people have asked about it, I've pinned it here. Thank you all, love love love

[sorrowsofsilence]

Discipline • Sebastian

Pairing: Professor!Noah Sebastian x fem!student!reader

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, Smut (PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, spanking, fem!receiving, male!receiving, hair pulling, slight degrading / rudeness) professor x student, swearing

Prompt: Professor Davis is a stuck-up know-it-all who hates when you talk back, especially in front of the class. Perhaps, some discipline is necessary to keep you in line.

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician @philomenie @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera

He was a stubborn know-it-all, and a stuck-up smart-ass. Therefore, you loved pushing his buttons, especially in front of the class. 

He hated being wrong, and he was a perfectionist who nit-picked everything you did.

Yet, from the first day you met your physics professor, you were captivated by his sheer ego and wit. 

You wanted to hate him because of how frustrating he was, but something about the way his eye always caught yours mid-lecture, and the sheer glint of pride that would shadow his cocky demeanour when you proved him wrong: well it left your heart pounding every time you stepped foot into his class. 

He acted like he hated it, and if the sass came from any other student, he probably did.

But from you? God, he lived for it. 

Professor Davis loved your technicality and scholarly attitude, and he admired your confidence and flirtatious jesting; but it took everything in him to push away the urge to treat you like homework by throwing you onto his desk and doing you all night long. 

He knew it was wrong to think this way, especially during the countless nights he relished in the mental image of you in that short skirt and collared jumper, the hand that stroked himself in the shower a pitiful attempt at imagining it was yours. 

It was wrong to imagine fucking you and delving his head between your legs, lapping up your arousal until you shook from the pleasure he gifted you, his student.

The code of conduct required teachers to remain professional and competent; and not have their minds clouded with lust; even if it was between two consenting adults. 

It was no doubt that Professor Davis was the hottest teacher on your university campus. Students oggled over him constantly, especially with the way his not-so-hidden tattoos poked just above his black turtleneck, or how his hands that wrote out equations on the chalkboard were covered in intricate drawings. It was a mystery what else was lying underneath his all-black uniform, but it always left your mind wandering to scandalous thoughts.

The academic power and breach of trust that would ensue if anything happened between the two of you would surely make him lose his job. 

But you wanted to push the boundaries, your mind begging to watch his inked fingers sink into your pussy. 

You were sitting in your usual spot in class, your pen copying the equation Dr. Davis had placed on the board. He turned, eyes meeting yours for what felt like the hundredth time this period before he scanned the room, twirling the chalk between his fingers. 

“You have one minute,” He said, his free hand running through his chestnut locks, and the sound of pencils scraping paper filled the room. You averted your attention from him, something hard to do because you loved the way he would tilt his head back to shake his hair back into place, before jotting down your work.

You quickly answered the equation, placing your pen back onto the desk before resting your elbow on the surface, your chin sitting on your palm. Once the brunette noticed you were done he waited a few more seconds before announcing to the class to stop. 

Watching him turn back to the chalkboard, he expanded on the equation, answering it with the given numbers. He faced the class, pointing at it, “If your answer looks different, you did it wrong.” 

His tone was cocky and rude, and you squinted your eyes in frustration at him.

He is such a dick. And so fucking attractive. 

Glancing between your paper and the board you shook your head slightly. You knew you had the correct answer, but what he had written did not match what was on your page. 

A few students began to murmur around you, comparing their answers to one another. The few who had gotten it correct looked at their paper confused, and Professor Davis watched his students with a disappointed look. 

“Did anybody solve it correctly, or do we need to review the literal basics before your exam next week?” 

You raised your hand and Professor Davis rolled his eyes, an attempt to be demeaning, but you knew behind his gaze a tinge of playfulness lingered. 

“Dr. Davis, you’re asking us to calculate variance, right?” You pushed, raising a brow. 

He hummed in response, nodding curtly as he leaned back onto his desk. Crossing his arms and legs, he chewed on the inside of his cheek, watching you with dark eyes as he awaited your response. 

“Then you answered it wrong.” 

He shared a smug smile, tilting his head slightly before looking at the board, “How?”

“The degree of scatter is parameterized by the quantity. So you placed the 3 in the wrong spot. Therefore, you got the wrong answer.”

The brunette scoffed, standing straight as he walked over to your desk. Leaning forward he placed the chalk on top of your notebook, his hair falling over his forehead, “Why don’t you come to teach the class then Miss. Y/L/N?”

I gave him a sarcastic smile as I slid out of my seat, “Maybe we’ll all learn something then, huh?”

A low laugh erupted from the class and Professor Davis bit back a smile, his jaw clenching in annoyance as his eyes followed your trail to the front of the class. 

You flattened your skirt as you bent down to pick up the eraser, wiping away your professor's mistake and filling in the equation with the correct numbers. 

It was such a small mistake, that it surprised you he even made it. You glanced at him briefly, avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your desk.

He held his hand open and you placed the chalk in his large palm, your fingers grazing his skin in temptation. 

His onyx eyes refused to leave yours as he spoke to the class, “You’re all free to leave. Make sure you read chapter 8 for Thursday as we talk about angular momentum and static friction.”

As people began packing up and exiting the room your attention turned to Dr. Davis when he called your name. 

“Y/N, I’d like to speak with you.” 

Your heart hammered as he nodded toward his desk, and you packed your items into your bookbag, hooking it over your shoulder as you approached him. 

Professor Davis walked toward the entrance door, nodding at the remaining students and giving them curt smiles. Once the last person left he closed the door and locked it. 

He then turned to face you, folding his arms, “I’m sick and tired of your attitude Miss. Y/L/N, especially when it’s in front of the class.”

You shrugged, tilting your head back in annoyance, “Look I want to pass this class, and when you’re constantly wrong, I’m going to speak up.” 

“Constantly?” Dr. Davis laughed bitterly, “I think I deserve a bit more respect from you.”

“Respect goes both ways Professor,” You licked your lips as he stared at you intensely, his eyes dancing with unspoken words. The tension between the two of you caused your breathing to quicken, and he slowly approached the desk.

“You got quite the mouth on you, y’know?” His voice was hoarse as if he was holding back his next words, “Someone should teach you what to do with it.”

You swallowed in response, his words causing you to chew on your lip in anticipation as your heart raced.

“You’re inappropriate,” He spoke lowly, stepping closer toward you with each word, and you backed up from him, “Disrespectful, Disruptive-” you gently hit the brick wall behind his desk, his eyes narrowing at you as his forehead was inches from yours, “you’re distracting.”

Dr. Davis’s proximity made your stomach begin to churn with butterflies as your eyes danced between his own and his lips, before staring at the smile that grew on his expression.

“Discipline is necessary,” He said as you looked up at him, his eyes filled with infatuation. 

You dared stifle a laugh, “You want me to write a thousand-word essay apology?” 

Professor Davis was careful to not touch you, but his body was almost pressed against yours, daring to push you into the wall. You wanted him to make the first move, but you knew he wouldn’t. Not without a little motivation.

“No,” He swallowed, his lips parting as he stared at yours, almost desperate. 

“Then what?” You pried, looking up through your lashes, taunting him as you placed your bag on the ground.

The two of you stood there, breaths exchanging as the warmth between you built. Your eyes stared at his lips again before flickering to his eyes as a form of contentment. 

“fuck it,” he muttered ever so quietly before his hand reached up to your jaw, lips attaching to your own in haste.

You closed the gap between your bodies by tugging on his sweater, pulling him toward you as he pressed his hips into yours.

He held your face firmly as your lips melded together, the kiss opening as he pressed his tongue against yours. You couldn’t help but moan into him, brows furrowing in lust and need as his free hand gripped your hip. He trailed his fingers down your leg, reaching for the exposed skin underneath your skirt. 

The unholy sounds that escaped you as he gripped onto your body left him groaning, tugging at the fabric of your long sleeve. 

He pulled away, allowing you to peel the layer of clothing off before pulling you against him once again. 

Dr. Davis wrapped his arms around you in an embrace as he kissed you with desire and greed. He pulled you toward his desk, pushing off the books and papers, letting them fall to the ground in ignorance. 

You sat on his desk, allowing the brunette to push you down so your elbows supported you from behind. Staring at him, your skirt slid down your thighs as Professor Davis pushed your legs apart, staring at you hungrily.

“Look at you, literally begging for someone to put you in your place,” He scoffed, tugging at your underwear before letting it snap back against your skin, “Pathetic.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat there, soaking and desperate, “What are you going to do about it?”

Professor Davis kneeled as he spoke, “I’ve always wanted to taste you.”

He pulled your panties to the side as you slid to the edge of the desk. You watched him eagerly, abdomen clenching in anticipation as he slid his fingers along your folds. 

“Please-”

“Sir.” He scolded, slapping your desire slightly, and you impatiently rutted your hips toward him. 

“Please sir,” You begged, and he obliged, burying himself between your legs. 

The first strip of his tongue made you shake, the second one called out his name.

“Professor I-” 

“Just say, Noah.” He sighed, sucking on the skin that created a haze in your mind. You hummed.

Noah hungrily devoured you, lapping up your arousal before sinking his fingers into you. You groaned in relief at the feeling, and he curled and twisted, pulling an orgasm from you in seconds.

But then he didn’t stop. 

You cried as he pulled you into him, refusing to move as he kept eating you out with fervour. The overstimulation was almost painful and you tried pushing his head away, but he held your thighs against his face firmly, lapping and sucking at the skin in hunger and punishment. 

Your legs shook as your head tilted back in lustful agony, begging him to stop.

He finally pulled away at his own pace, breathing heavily, “You don’t get to tell me to stop. I’ll make you cum as much as I want.” 

You groaned at his words, allowing you to lay back fully as your legs spread wider for him. Your hand gripped Noah’s hair, pulling him toward you as he began exploring your body once again. 

“If you’re going to discipline me like this, I’ll be speaking up in class much more.” 

Noah immediately pulled away with a scoff, standing up to watch you below. He began to pull apart his belt, unzipping his fly as he stroked himself from above his briefs, “You’re such a brat you know that-” 

He pulled down your underwear, tossing it onto the ground before pulling you off the desk. He turned you around, bending you over the wooden surface, “-and fuck I love it.”

He flipped your skirt up, exposing your ass as he slapped the skin. He pressed your chest into the desk as he spit into his hand, stroking himself. 

You felt Noah line up against you, and in greed you pushed back, earning another slap across your skin.

“That impatient?” He laughed, reaching to grip a fistful of your hair. He tugged you back to look at him, before pushing into your body without warning. 

A string of curses left his lips as his hips slapped against you, the size of his cock stretching and filling your desperate core. Your arms reached forward to grip the edge of the desk, holding onto the wood with mercy.

“You feel better than I ever could’ve imagined.” He whispered, quiet whimpers escaping his chest as he fucked you harshly, pounding faster with each thrust. 

Your whole body shook as the sounds of sex filled the room, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as Noah gave you everything he had, months of tension easing as the two of you finally gave in to temptation. He gripped your hips with both of his hands, pulling you as he pushed into you. His fingers dug into your ass as he slapped you again, your face pressed into the desk.

“You-you get the problems wrong on purpose-” You cried as Noah gave you another orgasm, your body clenching around his through your release.

Your professor slowed his pace, tilting his head to watch as his cock slid in and out of you, the slick of your cum causing him to groan. 

He didn’t answer your question, sliding out of your body and tugging on your arms to pull you off the desk. 

“Get on your knees so I can fuck your mouth. That way you’ll shut the fuck up,” Noah growled. 

You followed his instruction, succumbing to him as he gripped either side of your head. You took him eagerly into your mouth, sucking all of him as he pushed his length against your tongue. 

Noah thrust into your mouth quickly, causing you to gag. He thrust a few more times before his head fell back, eyes closing while he held you taut against him.

“Fuck,” he cried, and you squeezed your eyes shut, his release coating the back of your throat.

You swallowed everything he gave you, smiling up at him in contentment. Noah’s chest heaved, legs shaky as he zipped himself back up, buckling his belt. He helped you up off the floor and you licked your lips, the salty tang of Noah reminiscent. 

“Same time next week?” You asked, straightening your skirt as you leaned down to grab your underwear. 

“How about I take you to dinner first?” He straightened the collar of his turtle neck, and you couldn’t help but look away, blushing.

[bitethedevil]

How do you think Raphael would react to the player? 👁️👁️

Like, you or I just randomly get “isekai'd” into the house of hope?? Bonus points if said player is a raphael simp & 100% had the "such a tease" mod by Nikjima

(AN: I did a little short writing exercise for this one. I haven't really done reader fics before so bear with me. I can also warmly recommend @tellmeallaboutit's fic "knock knock" if you haven't read it already. It’s the same vibe as what you are requesting and it's really great. Also, links to all the mods I mention in this fic: "Such a Tease - A Raphael Redressing Mod", The Devil Wears Nada (Raphael Undressing Mod), and Better Raphael Outfits. And finally: Thank you for the ask <3)

Visiting the Devil's Den (Raphael x Reader)

You were replaying that scene in The Devil’s Den for perhaps the sixth time. You were taking screenshots of your favorite devil and there was this specific moment where the lighting hit his cheek in a really pretty way. You had missed it each time because your eyes kept drifting down to Raphael’s chest after you had downloaded the “Such a Tease” mod.

Didn’t matter. You would just reload the save and try again. It’s not like you would ever get tired of looking at that beautiful smug face of his anyway. You tried actually focusing on his face this time. You were barely listening to what he was saying at this point. You almost knew the whole damn interaction word for word anyway.

Your eyes drifted to his chest again. You had never quite understood some men’s inability to keep eye-contact when a woman wore a shirt with a revealing neckline, but you were starting to get it. You’d sell your right arm to run your hand over that chest…or bury your face in it.

Your train of thought was interrupted when you noticed that he had stopped mid-dialogue and was now…quiet?

Your eyes flicked back up to his face and you jumped a bit. He was looking straight at you.

What a weird glitch. That had never happened before, and it was honestly a bit unnerving with the way that his eyes looked straight into yours through the screen. Your brow furrowed and you tried to move your cursor. It didn’t seem like the screen was frozen or anything.

That is when he tilted his head slightly and smiled at you. You felt the blood drain from your face before your brain started thinking rationally again. It was a glitch. An odd glitch, but nothing reloading the save couldn’t fix.

You pressed on the Escape-key like you had done so many times before, but before you could click on the save file you heard a sound.

*Snap*

You blinked and you were somewhere else.

There you suddenly were, in your unflattering home-clothes, looking like someone who had just been dropped on the moon, right in front of the Devil You Know. The Devil You Knew So Well that he had been your unhealthy obsession for months. The man you had read, and written, so much depraved fanfiction about.

He was right in front of you, looking at you. Saying that you looked like a deer in headlights would almost have been an understatement of the level of shock your face showed.

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” he said with a smile and a bow, before looking you up and down. “This is getting rather tiresome, my dear…”

You were still frozen. You looked around the room. Your Tav and her companions weren’t there. The Devil’s Den looked like it had always done, and you knew because you had searched through every corner of it to learn more about Raphael, as you had also done with the House of Hope.

Your eyes returned to him. It all seemed real, but it couldn’t be. You were going insane…or someone had sneaked into your house and spiked your evening tea with psychedelics or something…Yes that’s it, you must be hallucinating. This could not be real.

You looked him up and down. He looked so damn real. Not like a character from a game, but a real-life person. Though he couldn’t be…Your eyes stupidly drifted to his chest for a moment. There were those dark hairs that you had been staring at for way too long, but they looked real. As if you could reach out and actually feel them.

Raphael cleared his throat to pull your attention back to his face. He snapped his fingers, and he was back in his usual clothes. His doublet was now closed again.

“This latest one was certainly an improvement from when you made me naked, but I do personally prefer a modicum of modesty when dealing with clients. Makes it easier for them to listen, instead of letting their thoughts…wander elsewhere,” Raphael said with a smile, clearly enjoying the blush that was spreading across your face. “Although…I must admit that the black suit with the red sash was starting to grow on me.”

You were now fully blushing, unable to even look at him. This might be a figment of your sick imagination, or a really fucked up fever-dream, but it was excruciatingly embarrassing.

“So quiet,” Raphael purred and looked you up and down again. “Or perhaps, you have simply grown too accustomed to only be listening to me speak…again and again and again…Not that I so much mind repeating myself, but when it is for the hundredth time and you have yet to make your little minions hand me the crown, it does get rather old.”

Something snapped in your brain, and you started quietly giggling.

“This isn’t real,” you mumbled to yourself with an almost maniacal grin. “I’m going insane…”

“While that thought did strife me as the explanation for this strange compulsive behavior of yours, I can very much assure you that this is real,” Raphael said with a hint of impatience in his voice while he watched you pace around the room.

“No, it’s not,” you said with a laugh and pointed at him. “You are a character in a game, and I am a real-life person who has lost her marbles. I am hallucinating!”

You paced around the room for a couple more rounds with Raphael looking at you with a slightly tired expression. Then a thought hit you.

“I can prove it,” you suddenly said and stopped your pacing. “I can prove that this isn’t real.”

“Oh?” Raphael said with a raised brow, looking unimpressed. “Do enlighten me, dear.”

“You can’t touch hallucinations,” you said as if you had just made a scientific breakthrough.

You walked up to him and raised your hand to poke his shoulder, expecting your hand to go straight through him. When you did poke him, your finger was stopped by his shoulder. Your face fell. Raphael looked from where you poked him to your face with an amused smile.

The frown on your face deepened as you poked him again with the same result. You whined in despair at the thought that this might be real, and here you were in front of Raphael himself, who seemed to know a bit too much about your obsession with him, acting like a complete lunatic.

“But…” you whined and almost poked him again in disbelief before he caught your hand with his. He held it and gave it a small pat as he looked at you.

“Are we all caught up now?” he asked still holding your hand.

“But…but this is so embarrassing,” You whispered, mostly to yourself, almost on the verge of tears. “It can’t be real…you even know about the mods…how would you even know about the mods?”

“I��m afraid that I am not quite sure what that word means,” Raphael said. “But yes, this situation does indeed seem quite embarrassing for you.”

You were trying your hardest not to break down. You wanted to bury yourself in a deep, deep hole and never show your face again. You were staring at his hand holding yours, trying to take it all in. You felt the heat of his skin against yours. He had remarkably soft hands.

“The good thing is though, that no one has to know,” he said squeezing your hand gently. His tone was much softer now. “It can be our little secret. I must admit that I find your little infatuation quite flattering.”

You looked up at his face, but the intensity of his smoldering eyes was just too much. You knew enough about this man to know that he was absolutely manipulating the fuck out of you, and by the gods, was it working.

“I might even be inclined to let you further explore that cute little fascination of yours behind closed doors,” he said in a low voice and raised his hand to stroke your cheek gently, making you completely red in the face from blushing. “If, of course, you do something for me in return, my dear…”

“The Crown…” you mumbled.

“Clever, aren’t you?” he purred. “You get those adventurers to sign my contract and hand me the Crown of Karsus and I will indulge you in whatever your sinful little heart desires...”

He lifted your hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on it. You felt as if you might spontaneously combust on the spot at the gesture.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked with a smile on his face that was turning your brain into mush.

This was such a bad idea. You had seen clips from the ending where Raphael gets the Crown of Karsus. He literally threatens to conquer other realms, including your own. Now knowing that Raphael was real, then this could be a really, really, really terrible idea with enormous consequences. So, naturally, you looked up into those beautiful brown eyes of his and answered:

“Yes.”

His smile widened.

“Wonderful. I will look forward to our next meeting,” he said with look that was downright sinful. He brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear which made your legs wobble under you. “Ta-ta, for now.”

*Snap*

[genshxn]

✤ 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜: 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝

part 2 of Looking After the Sick

written pre-3.3 • 3.2 archon quest spoiler warning technically still applies

author drivel. WROTE THIS WHILE I'M STILL RIDING THE SCARAMOUCHE WAVE THAT I HAVE FOR LIKE NO FUCKING REASON I DON'T KNOW WHY THIS IS HAPPENING TO ME WHAT IS GOING ON THIS FUCKER HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD HELP. right yeah anyway- every time i write fanfiction there is always a non-zero chance that someone is going to get slammed into a wall. take that as you will.

synopsis. you're not sick anymore, so you finally take matters into your own hands after he basically irl ghosted you for a few days.

contents. scaramouche can't deal with himself so he doesn't want to deal with you, he gets shoved into a wall, you tell him how you feel, plus a suggestive comment if you squint.

w.c. 2.4k words omg help me

taglist. @frissy

You looked down at It was about time to get Kunikuzushi back to his own room. Luckily, due to his inorganic composition, he’s quite light, so you don’t have much trouble hauling him around in various positions… when you’re not sick. With your lack of strength and shitty breathing, it was quite the slog trying to get the unconscious puppet back to his room, but you did manage it in the end. You laid him down on his bed somewhat ungracefully. After straightening out his messy limbs, you took one last look at his ’sleeping’ face. He’s quite beautiful when he’s this quiet. If only he had an ounce more of that calmness when he was conscious. With that final thought, you shuffled back to your room, collapsing onto the bed with a prolonged sigh (and cough).

30 minutes later, you swear you heard his faint scream from the other side of the Sanctuary. 

The whole reason you went to such an effort to try and get him back to his own room was because you assumed that he would want to be alone once he finally rebooted. And you were right—he still brought your food like he was ordered to by Nahida, but every time he entered the room, he wouldn’t say anything to you, let alone even look at you. He would enter the room without a word, place the tray of food next to you and then rush out again. If you were lucky, he’d maybe throw a fresh blanket at you. Without fail, you’d get nailed square in the face with it every time. 

In the time you were alone, which was about 99% of your waking hours, Kunikuzushi’s words ruminated in your mind. You were "making [him] feel all this shit…" and "toying with [his] already shattered heart like [a] plaything…". You wanted to roll your eyes at how painfully on-brand the wording is, but it seems like he’s gone and developed feelings for you. If all he did was say those things to you, there was more room for doubt in his words, but paired with his actions, there was no mistaking it. Kunikuzushi had developed feelings for you at some point. Looking down at the empty hand he held, you reminisced on the feeling of his soft hand in yours. It was so tender compared to the front he usually put up. You close your fist with a determined look on your face—once you’re better, you’re going to confront him about it. 

By the fourth morning after making up your mind, you finally felt human again. You woke up  with the sunlight hitting your eyes… But when that happens at this time of year, that means it’s already mid to late morning. So you’ve managed to sleep in even more than normal. With a sigh, you roll over to get out of bed but notice the food tray in the regular spot. On it sits a lonely cup of tea. Upon feeling the mug, you realize it must have been sitting there for a while, because it was only lukewarm—it must have been brought in while you were asleep. You go to gulp it down so it doesn’t go to waste, but the familiar taste hits you immediately. It was just like the tea in the chazuke that Kunikuzushi made you a few days ago. He must have made the tea. Whether it was his own idea or Nahida’s, you appreciate that he brought it to you either way. Right as you’re about to place the mug back down, you notice a tiny, plain notecard that must have been sitting beneath the cup. 

The Radish wants you to hurry up and stop being bedridden. 

Jokes on him, you’re feeling 100% better and are about to hunt his ass down. After getting changed out of your pyjamas and into some semi-presentable clothes, you set out on your quest of looking for the emotional wreck of a puppet. 

You exit out into the hallway, not quite sure where to begin. You begin to think of some possible places he may be, but your thoughts are cut off by a little radish-coloured child wandering into view—it’s Nahida.

"Oh hello, (Y/N)! I’m glad to see you up and about. How are you feeling?" The young god marches up to you with a cheery look on her face. She only comes up to at most your waist. 

"Normal, finally. I’m completely better now. Ku took good care of me… for a few days." You bit the inside of your cheek remembering the event from four days ago. 

"Ah yes, something happened between the two of you, didn’t it? I wanted to see if he would talk about it, but it seems he’s gone back to bottling things up. Can I ask what happened?" 

"Yeah, he’s doing it to me too… You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you? I’m gonna try talking to him." 

Nahida puffs her cheeks. "Ooh, that’s going to be tricky… Well, I believe I last saw him come out of his room a few minutes ago. He didn’t have his hat on, so I don’t think he’s planning on leaving any time soon." 

"Thank you so much. You’ll probably be able to tell later on if things go well! Please excuse me now," With a little bow and wave to the god, she sees you off with a returned smile and wave, continuing on her way down the hallway. 

Now to find that Kunikuzushi. It doesn’t take too long to get to the general area of his room. He couldn’t have gone far if he didn’t have his hat on. He never leaves without the thing. 

You can feel yourself beginning to get fidgety. As much of the fearless ex-Fatui Harbinger tamer you are, you’re still just a person with your own nervous feelings to consider. You’re not the one that has the potential to be met with humiliating rejection… right? Judging that you’re dealing with Kunikuzushi, everything could easily be flipped on its head in a matter of seconds. Your eyes turn downcast, mindlessly watching the floor in front of you as you walk. So of course you’re not watching where you’re going because you knock into something—or maybe something walks into you. Either way, it makes an incredibly familiar screech. Your head whips up to see what it is and you come face to face with just the person you were looking for. 

"Kuni—" 

"W-watch where you’re going!" He stammers, moving to hide his face behind his arm. He looks down at you with either contemptuous or embarrassed eyes—you only saw them for a split second before he turns tail and tries to run off. 

"Wait, I need to talk to you!"

"No you don’t!" He calls back, looking over his shoulder.

You run up behind him and try to catch his wrist again, and you do manage to briefly get a grip on it it… until he leaps into the air in a blast of air, yanking himself from your grip. 

You’re left reeling from the sudden gust of wind to your face while Kunikuzushi lands back down and sprints off. He turns to face you one last time and calls out "Leave me alone!" Hey, that’s the most eye-contact he’s made with you in the past four days. 

"Kunikuzushi, you get your ass back here right now!" You begin to sprint after him down the hallway. "Being alone will fix none of this, and you still have to consider how I feel!" 

He makes a shocked cry and almost trips over his own feet. There’s your chance—it’s now or never to catch up to him. Before he can escape away from you again, you manage to corner him against the wall with both hands hovering near either of his shoulders. He’s pressed up against the wall as much as humanly possible, face horrified and tomato red. "LET ME GO." 

"No. Kunikuzushi, listen to me. You can’t just avoid me for the rest of your life." 

"What, a-are you projecting on me or something? You wanna… you wanna be with me so bad you can’t even go four days without talking to me." His 'smug smile' seems more like an embarrassed frown. 

"You interpreted the statement like that. I think you’re the one projecting, Ku," You sigh at his pathetic attempt at deflection. "Which is exactly why I need to talk to you."

"Ngh…" He grunts out while looking off down the hall, hiding his mouth behind his wrist. "This is about… that night, isn’t it? What do you even want?" He frowns, glaring at you. Even when he’s this much of a hot mess, he still has a beauty to behold. 

"That’s the thing… I’m not really sure." You sigh, eyes casting off to the side. "But I would like to go somewhere a bit more private, if possible." 

"HUH? B-but—" His face heats up even further. 

"Would you rather the two of us be caught like this here in the hallway?" 

"No." He avoids your gaze again. "Ugh, c’mon, let’s just go to my room or something It’s right there." 

You let go of your cage around him and he walks stiffly to his bedroom. Once you’re in, he closes the door behind you. His room is neat and simple, not too different from your’s. A few random belongings and pieces of clothes strewn about suggest that he’s begun to feel more comfortable which makes you happy to see. But Kunikuzushi’s not in the mood for that right now. 

"So?" He asks impatiently. "What do you have to say that about… that?" He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to one leg. 

You take a step to approach him, which makes him instinctually back up a step. His expression falters with nervousness. “Well. Your confusing feelings are most likely a crush." You say. 

“Argh, I know that! I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.” He folds his arms across his chest crankily, looking off to the side. “It’s just… been so long. B-but anyway! What do you even…” he gestures around wildly with his hands, struggling to articulate. “…think of all that?!” 

“That’s the thing… I’m not fully sure,” You reply. Mind you, you do have some idea, but you want to put it to the test first. 

"Wh-what?!" He sputters in disbelief. "How can you—! Ugh, I’m right, aren’t I? All you want to do is pl—" He begins on a pessimistic rant, and you’re not having it. 

"But…" You cut him off. Despite your hammering heart rising in your chest, you grab him by both sides of his collar and yank him closer to you, placing your lips on his half-parted ones. Kunikuzushi’s eyes open as wide as can be. You can feel your a warmth and almost giddiness radiate inside you. The kiss itself is a slightly awkward one, thanks to how stiff Kunikuzushi is the whole time, but you can feel yourself melting against him. 

Eventually, you have to let him go. You take note of the fact that you don’t want to, but breathing is still somewhat important. The stunned Kunikuzushi steps back against the wall, eyes and pupils blown wide. Nothing seems to go through his head for a brief second. 

“Hello?” You wave in front of his face. “Don’t fucking tell me you’re short-circuiting again..." Your warm feeling quickly suspends at the looming threat that he may pass out again. If he does, at least his bed is literally right there, and you’re ready to catch him if necessary.

He wordlessly brings a hand to his lip, evidently still computing what just happened. Looks like you just temporarily tanked his processing speed instead. You watch in real time as his face flushes even deeper. 

"WHWHWHWH—" In an instant, his expression morphs to one of shock. Looks like he’s finally back with reality. 

"You know, I missed the feeling of your hand." Now it was your turn to pick up his hand and interlace your fingers with his. You hold it up between the two of you and it give a little squeeze. Kunikuzushi stares at them with wide eyes. "I think it helped me figure out how I feel about you.’ 

"...Wh-which is?" 

"I mean, it should be obvious since I just kissed you on the lips like that, but I think I like you t—“ 

Now it was Kunikuzushi’s turn to cut you off. With his free hand, he holds your face by the jaw and leans in to kiss you back. You’re stunned by his new found confidence. This time, he actually moves against your lips with far more experienced at this than you would have thought—then again, he has been alive several hundred years longer than you have, so what do you know? You can feel the emotion behind it—tender but with an unmistakable fervour. He lets go of your still-joint hand and brings you closer against him with his hand around the small of your back. Your arms find themselves wrapping around his shoulders. A few moments later. you pull back with a gasp of air and a hammering heart. It was also your turn to be left reeling. Kunikuzushi on the other hand, appears quite pleased with himself. 

“Hah, you drank the tea I left you this morning, didn’t you?” He still holds your face with his hand. You watch as he swipes his tongue over his lips with a smug grin. 

“AHEM.” Your face heats at his comment. “Yes, I did. The Radish wanted me to stop being bedridden after all… On another note, you look quite happy,” You say with a smile.  

“‘Cause I am, stupid,” He laughs softly. “You do my head in with all the shit you make me feel, but right now, this isn’t so bad.” 

“Oh yeah, you mentioned that you went to Nahida about your confusing feelings?” 

“…I did. What of it?” He looks at you with a slightly confused expression, rather contrary to the smug one he had before. 

“She’s probably the last person you want to go to for human emotions. She says she really doesn’t understand them since she’s been stuck alone for 500 years." 

“…So she really does have the same understanding of emotions as a radish.” He muses, looking off in some random direction. 

“Wait, KUNIKUZUSHI, WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HER?” 

 In response, he just pokes his tongue out. 

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

because this has been on my mind wrapping up the epilogue, here is a little story about how writing fanfiction for very silly sometimes awesome sometimes genuinely terrible SYFY show the magicians changed my life for real.

i started writing help, i’m alive in may 2020. as i have stated many times on this blog, the overarching goal from which this story sprung was my passionate desire to give quentin coldwater each and every last thing he deserved: i wanted to follow him all the way through a downward spiral, and then i wanted to figure out what it would take for him to climb out of the darkness and make it to somewhere he actually wanted to be. the first part of that, the part that became damage control, was some of the easiest writing i’ve ever done, even accounting for the hours spent google mapping the most depressing road trip of all time. the second part was harder, and not just because it wound up being more than four times as long (lmao). it was thornier; there were more threads to weave through; and, frankly, quentin was so fucked up that it took a lot of effort even to outline what it was he needed in order to change. i had written one story already in which the pivot happened entirely internally, an act of self-forgiveness that proved transformational, and i knew that this time i needed to give him more: actual wants, actual actions, an actual life, with actual ties not just to the people already in his circle but to the world beyond. once i had that outline, the first four chapters flowed pretty easily, anchored by the goal of hitting the story’s first big win, which is when quentin finds a way to fix something for the first time since his magic broke; chapter five was where i got stuck.

by that point, it was fall. i had quit my teaching job mid-pandemic with some modest savings, no back-up plan, and a growing realization that after five years in the classroom, teaching was no longer something i could see myself returning to; working obsessively on this story was, among other things, a great way to quiet the constant humming freak-out of what the fuck i was going to do with my life. in october doing some jump squats after sitting in bed all day i threw my back out so badly i couldn’t walk to the bathroom unassisted and paid a hundred dollars to talk to a telehealth doctor for fifteen minutes for some muscle relaxants. the pain sucked, but so did not knowing whether i was going to be better by election day — i’d signed up to be a poll worker, and i really could have used the money.

i’d started dipping my toe in some local volunteer stuff when i quit, but it was during this time that i signed up for the first time for a particular project i was really excited about joining. i did the zoom training with my camera off because my back still hurt too much to sit up; the follow-up involved scanning and emailing some personal documents and signed agreements. i didn’t do it the next day because, whatever, my back fucking hurt; i didn’t do it the day after that because…? and then, well — then i started feeling like i had missed my chance, and it was too late now.

now, here’s the thing: i say feeling like because by this point i had learned enough about the world that i knew — like, knew — that, objectively, taking a few days to send an email (during a pandemic, while i was having previously established health issues) is not considered by most people to be an unforgivable crime. i knew that i should still send the email. and i also had learned enough about myself that i could actually recognize the thing happening in my brain as an example of the kind of overly self-protective mechanisms in which i have many years of practice; i knew by then that i was an absolute expert at finding reasons to not do things that felt like they were based in truth but were really just cleverly disguised manifestations of fear, because if you do things then bad things might happen, but if you don’t do things then nothing bad happens, except that you ruin your own life. i knew all of this!! i could diagnose and analyze exactly how i was once again perpetuating the same anxiety-driven patterns that had governed so much of my life. i was conscious of the workings of my own unconscious. but i still couldn’t bring myself to send the fucking email. instead i was spending 16 hours a day alternately lying in bed and gingerly pacing in my apartment to regain mobility, feeling like shit about the fact that i wasn’t sending the email and also trying fruitlessly to unpack whatever was going on in chapter five.

the election came five days into this mess, and i did feel well enough to go work the polls. this was a great way to experience election 2020, by the way; i had to leave my apartment at like 3:30 in the morning and by the time the returns started coming in i was too delirious to have any emotions about them whatsoever. it was also, not to be a shill for electoral politics, genuinely kind of inspiring: all these people lining up to Do Democracy, the deployment of translators to assist across languages, the columbia undergrad from the neighborhood we were in i was paired with at the info desk who told me he wanted to go into politics and said very seriously, upon hearing i had a friend in the grad school there, “you should tell them to join the union.” plus, you know, the high of doing something, surrounded by other human beings, at a time when that sort of thing had been in short order for the work-from-home crowd for months, and i personally had recently been confined to my bed for several days.

leaving the site that night, entering my twentieth consecutive hour awake, i felt this weird mix of spiritually rejuvenated and psychologically worse. i had just lived through this physical proof of how doing things is both not that scary and kind of awesome, i had spent a day living in alignment with the kind of person i wanted to be, i felt a fresh rush of love for my city and its people — and i still couldn’t imagine sending the fucking email! it was like i was looking at the thing i wanted most through a pane of glass, and the glass was actually really easy to break, so the only thing stopping me was that i was too much of a baby to do it.

and the thought that i had then, i fucking swear, was: i would be such a fucking hypocrite if i wrote quentin coldwater into a happy ending i’m too cowardly to give myself.

which is, first of all: SOOOOOOOO corny, like omg. unbelievably cringe. embarrassing as hell. but it was also my truth at that moment in time. i had no faith in my own ability to change, but i had spent five months and counting thinking about almost nothing else except the story i was writing in which quentin also has no faith in his ability to change but is brave enough to do it anyway, and i really felt like — i could not live with myself putting these ideas out into the world and refusing to integrate them into my own life. i could not write this promise that something better was possible for quentin if i wasn’t even going to try to make it possible for me. i could, apparently, live forever with my constant self-sabotage, but i couldn’t live with myself making this story a lie (this story being, again, fanfiction for a TV show that was, at its best, so great, and also, at its worst, so, SO stupid).

and like… that worked. i emailed the documents the next day; i attended my first monthly zoom meeting that weekend, during which the election was officially called, which felt like a good omen. i summoned the idea that had presented itself to me that night — don’t be a hypocrite! do what you would want quentin to do! — again a while later when my email got lost in the shuffle and i had to send a check-in following up, and again every other time something came up where my fear had to war it out with my desire. (or, well, most other times — it's a work in progress, and yes, i do still find myself calling upon this logic to this day.)

my life now looks more like the happy ending i wrote quentin into than it did almost four years ago, when i started this story, or even three years ago, when i finished it. it looks more like that future than i ever imagined my life could look when i was writing it, and not just because, as i have mentioned before, a few weeks after my election night revelation, i did do as quentin did and befriend a community-minded extrovert who invited me to join a book club. even the fact that the final part of the epilogue has taken me so much longer than expected is a funny case of life imitating art, because while i have had work and illness and travel and general life stress, i have also had many days in the past few months where i was not very productive because i was simply too busy doing something fun — the kind of never-quite-solved balancing act quentin was set to deal with in the epilogue back when i first started kicking it around, well over two years ago at this point, but which was not really applicable to my own life until basically now. and it sounds even to my own ears so, so, so insane to say this, but it’s true: i can trace every aspect of that shift to the fact that i wrote this story, and that writing it fundamentally changed something inside me for the better. (shout-out to the people in the comments who noted that the story was, in a meta sense, my own version of quentin’s coffee maker; i knew you were right, but i don’t think i knew how right until this recent bout of reflection.)

i don't really know that there's a take-away here, because "quit your job and write four hundred thousand words about a weird TV show with a niche audience" is not exactly universally applicable advice. but if i were to try to find one, i think it would be something like: i felt really crazy and kind of embarrassed the entire time i was writing this story, not because i was writing fanfiction, or because it was incredibly horny and wildly self-indulgent, but because it mattered to me so, so deeply. it was one thing to have a fun goofy hobby, even a fun goofy hobby i took semi-seriously and poured a lot of time and effort into, but it was another to actually, like, care, and to care a lot, which i did. but if i hadn't accepted that this story mattered to me, i don't think it could have been as personally transformational as it wound up becoming. the heart wants what it wants, and you're only going to find out what that is if you're willing to listen to whatever rhythm it beats.

i solved chapter five on the way home from the poll site, by the way. i knew there needed to be some problem with quentin’s first semi-successful attempt to mend the coffee maker, but i couldn’t figure out how it tied in thematically with where he was in his life. on the bus it hit me: quentin and the coffee maker were both trying to remain unbreakable. an appealing idea if you’ve been broken, but one more conducive to stagnancy than to growth; you can stay there for a while, but eventually you need to let yourself want more.

[drmaddict]

Dear Diary

Summary: Jason got his hands on (y/n)s diary. Of course, nothing good can come of this... or maybe it can?

Word count: 850

Warnings: angst, but lots of fluff after

Authors note (Warning: looong Authors note):

When I was about 13 or 14, my then best friend tricked me.

She had sent me a link through a chat. It was one of those online fortune-telling sites. Ask a question about your future and I'll give you an answer.

Complete bullshit, of course, but I always found them funny. What do you do when you're 14? You ask if you have a chance with your crush, or possibly that cute guy who's always in guitar class.

What I didn't know was that on the other side, my friend was sitting with one of her friends, laughing her ass off.

They went on and on about it. I always valued my privacy. I was very shy and insecure.

When they made fun of it in front of me, my confidence and trust was broken. It has never really gotten back together since.

The whole thing still weighs on me in my mid-twenties. I never talked about it until now.

Unfortunately, my story didn't have a happy ending, but what are fanfictions for?

I was sitting in the cafeteria, listlessly looking at my food.

The guys were euphorically talking about the next DnD campaign when all of a sudden Jason Carver appeared at our table.

The grin on his face did not mean anything good.

"King and Queen of Freakland."

"Get out of here ball boy." growled Eddie.

"Why so hostile? I've got some good news after all. At least you finally got a chance to get laid. The way I see it, nothing more than languishing has happened yet."

Jason pulled out a small, green book from behind his back. My book. My journal. My chest tightened so violently I should have imploded. I felt sick to my stomach. Stiff as a board, I sat there. I should have knocked it out of his hand, but I was just a useless statue.

He flipped open the book and began reading aloud so loudly that the entire cafeteria could hear.

He strolled through the rows and read out my thoughts. Thoughts I never told anyone.

"He always listens to me. Even when I'm interrupted, which is really all the time, he asks again and listens to me. For someone who likes to talk so much, he's a really good listener."

He flipped a few more pages. I wanted to dissolve.

"I wonder what his lips feel like."

Turning pages.

"His eyes are beautiful. Like chocolate or coffee. He's never been this close to me before."

He put on a stilted sugary-sweet voice.

"And for all of you wondering who it is that turned dear (y/n)'s head - You shouldn't have a crush on Eddie Munson, but of course I'm an idiot who does."

The crowd laughed and silent tears ran down my eyes. Since Jason was still the center of attention, I quickly and silently slipped outside.

I heard Jason groan painfully, but I just kept running.

Now, if I was quick, I could just sign out at the secretary's office and say I was sick. It wouldn't even be a lie. I'd be gone before anybody saw me again.

"(Y/n). (Y/N)!" shouted Eddie from behind me. I heard his shoes hit the linoleum in quick strides. "Now wait."

A hand grabbed mach my shoulder and turned me around. I tried to wriggle away, but alas, Eddie was stronger than he looked.

"Here." He held my journal out to me.

I grabbed it without looking him in the face. I quickly wiped away the tears, but I wasn't fooling anyone.

I felt small and stupid and humiliated. "Thank you.", I whispered in a broken voice.

"Don't cry over this idiot."

I shook my head and tried to turn back around, but he didn't move away from me.

"I hate it when you're miserable."

"It's okay."

"No it's not okay!" He turned my head with his big hands that I practically had to look at him. "I don't want the girl I have a crush on to feel bad. I don't want her to cry."

I looked at him out of wide eyes. What?

"You always listen to me too and you're always nice to everyone and you have beautiful eyes and you smell insanely good. Do you even know that?"

His warm eyes looked at me as gently as I've ever seen him.

"Don't listen to that idiot! He has no right to do something like that, even though he might think he does." He grew quieter and sadness was in his eyes. "I'm sorry he's going off on you like this because of me."

I shook my head. "Eddie... No... Jason goes after everyone when he can, doesn't he?"

I looked down at my feet again. "Are you serious?"

"With every word."

"It doesn't feel real."

He laughed. "Come on we're going to math. Then the harsh reality will have us back.... Besides, I need motivation to go, and it's really always you." He smiled at me. "You look cute when you think... And a little hot how quickly you solve this tangled mess of numbers." He grinned. I blushed.

"You don't have the homework, do you?"

"Well, I was thinking I could possibly copy it off you.... I'd offer you dinner for it too.... Friday at 8?"

"Are you trading math homework for a date right now?", I laughed, still tearful.

"To be honest, the date's free.... You could also kick me in the balls and it would still be standing." He grinned at me, but uncertainty was in his eyes.

"Friday at 8.", I said and pressed my assignments into his hand.

He gave me a tight squeeze. "If I hadn't just broken Jason's jaw, I'd almost have to thank him."

"You broke Jason's jaw?", I asked in shock.

"Edward Munson to the principal's office immediately!", an angry voice rang over the loudspeakers.

He sighed and handed me back my notepad.

"I'll see you around. Don't forget about me while I'm in prison.", he grinned.

Quick as a flash, he pressed a kiss to my cheek. A glow of red settled over his skin.

"See you?"

"See you."

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF | ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER TWELVE | SERIES

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

Ch. 12

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess

Word count: 3.3k

Rating: 15+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, angst, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, and just being his sexy self. Possessive over his princess. Some kissing scenes in public and in private. Also disappointed parents of Y/n, a little drama and preparations for marriage. The story isn't real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: a little late again, sorry

As you were having breakfast in the big dining hall, you heard loud shouts from outside the big doors.

Frowning, you set aside the cup of coffee you were just holding and asked the nearest servant," What's that noise?"

Since Jungkook left for his morning training and territory duties and checking if there's no more trespassers in the palace, you were left alone with nothing to do so first thing you did when you woke up was take a shower and came down for breakfast.

Expecting an answer from the servant, it was the guard who replied. He was a fallen angel like Jungkook and he looked at you from his post.

"You don't need to worry about that, my lady.  His majesty ordered us to keep  watch on all entrances and exits. That's what we're here for anyway" he said with a slight tilt of his head like he was also trying to listen what is going on.

Confused, the shouts got louder before someone banged against the big door.

"Let me in this instant! There is my daughter!" Your father's voice echoed through the palace with your eyes wide.

"Please, my baby is there!" Your mother  yelled as you stood still in shock before the servant ran out, looking frantic. You couldn't believe you just heard those voices right now.

The guard looked at you worriedly but didn't say anything. The only thing that he could do was stand by his post while waiting for further instructions. "What should I tell his majesty?"

Before you can speak, the doors swung open to reveal your dear father and mother in royal attire. They were first who rushed inside the dining hall with the company of other guards behind them.

As you watched your parents looking so worried, you felt relieved that they are safe and sound. No vampires have attacked them but you didn't know how is that possible that they are here, in the Jungkook's kingdom.

Once they saw you,  your father's eyes lit up with relief before he ran toward you, "My daughter" he whispered to you before crushing you in a tight hug.

You hugged him back tightly. He then let go to hold your cheeks so he could study your face in awe before speaking again.

"How long has it been since I last seen you?" Your father asked with teary eyes, a smile plastered on his face.

Feeling confused by all the questions, you said with a smile, "It's not like I didn't see you every day...but why are you here and not at home?" Then after realizing what you said, you quickly added,"Oh, right. I forgot. The vampires."

"Are you all right, honey?" Your mother joined in the conversation, her eyes full of concern.

Since she was never around and only traveling on business trips, you felt weird about her being so worried but you didn't dwell on it too much. The important thing was that your parents are alive.

"How come you're here? Isn't this place hidden from humans?" You asked with confusion.

Your father simply smiled and took your hands in his," It doesn't matter now. Vampires had been terminated from our land and it is safe to go back home. We just wanted to retrieve you ourselves so no harm is done to you and,-" stopping mid sentence, he looks down at your neck like he just saw something strange," What's that collar around your neck?" Your father pointed to your inked mark necklace which appeared when Jungkook marked you.

"Umm, well  -" you started to stutter, feeling shy and embarrassed to explain such a sensitive situation, especially to your parents, when you suddenly heard someone coming inside the dining room with heavy footsteps.

Looking over your father's shoulder, your eyes brightened when your gaze met the eyes of your king. Dressed in his armor, his hair combed back neatly, he looked dangerously attractive when he approached.

Without his wings, he looked like a deadly predator who walked with a purpose ready to attack if necessary.

"Your majesty. Sorry for delay, I wanted to check the palace grounds for any intruders before we come inside but I see you've already met with your daughter," his low voice creates goosebumps on your skin when he walks even more closer.

"Yes and it looks that you kept your promise as she looks fine and well but I think it's time to go home now. It will be best for her if she stays with us before,-"  before your father could finish, a hand grabbed your chin before pulling you into a chaste kiss.

Your eyes widened in surprise as your king crushed you to his metal chest, not even noticing him stepping in front of you since your parents were standing in the way.

"What are you doing?!" Your father shouted and wanted to push Jungkook away from you but is stopped by some unseen force when you finally got to breathe after the kiss your king pulled.

"Did you miss me, darling?" Your soon to be husband grinned when he caressed your jaw lovingly," Sorry to keep you waiting. Hope you had fun without me," smirking, he left another kiss but this time on your cheek.

Smiling at your flushed face, he turned to look at your father then, his eyes going back to black," She is staying with me and we are having a wedding today so don't  interfere. She is safe under my care and we both agree on marrying. If you insist otherwise, I will not hesitate to kill you. I want her by my side so don't test my patience."

Your father still couldn't move but that didn't stop him from protesting," We didn't agree on this! "

"If you don't like this arrangement, then leave now. And it has to be today. We have no choice because the vampire attacks are becoming worse."

"We made a deal that you will marry her when she turns twenty one, till then she lives with her parents. She has responsibilities to hold in her own kingdom! Are you not aware that you're forcing her now? I'm sure you've not even asked her and told her your plan, it's complete nonsense!"  Your father tried reasoning his point of view as he shook his head with disbelief.

Jungkook sighed in annoyance," I played nice and let you see your daughter so don't try to stop this. She already has bonded with me," As to prove a point, he kisses your neck and the collar starts pulsing and glowing  in blue light, causing a wave of magic that makes you gasp out loud.

"That's her answer. You can choose not to support us now or later. But I won't wait anymore. My time is short and I must make her mine immediately."

"Y/n? Are you really going with this? He's not abusing you, isn't he?" Your mother hesitated to ask.

Feeling anger bubble inside you, it was like switch turned off when you hear them judge him so harshly," Yes, I will marry him. He is the one who has always protected me and always will so  don't you ever think about taking him away from me."

"But he could hurt you! He is not even human! How could you even  accept an offer like this!?" Your mother screamed at you before turning to your father," Your daughter doesn't even listens to us anymore. Do something!"

"I think she made up her mind already and I want to know only one thing, Y/n. Do you really love him?" Your father asked as he held your hands in his.

Nodding your head yes without hesitation, you look straight at your father," Yes I love him with everything I have. He has protected me and brought me into his home and he is the first person who truly cares about me. That's why I chose to stay here with him."

Turning to Jungkook, he looks even more hungry after hearing your confession.

Pulling you to him, his eyes glow from the emotions  coursing through him and his words become husky," This is why I will marry her. No one ever will take her from me again."

"And when do you intend to get married? There needs to be  a ceremony in the palace so we might as well start the preparations now." Your mother suggested.

"Let's just start immediately," Jungkook spoke, cutting your parents off before anyone can say anything else.

Your father looks at him  with shock written on his face," Right away? Just like that? But preparations,-"

"Are not necessary," Jungkook cut him off again," That's why you're here. You will be our witnesses to our marriage if you wish to participate. If not, my guards will gladly escort you out but you don't want your daughter sad or disappointed, right?"

With that your father nods in defeat.

The dress was tight enough  for the top of your shoulders to show a little bit of your pale skin. It was also sleeveless and a very thin layer of material that covered your arms and neck.

The dress was decorated with tiny crystals hanging from the straps that attached to the gown with delicate jewels scattered throughout. It was beautiful nonetheless.

"Can I do your makeup, your highness?" A maid asks you.

When you nod, you watch as she takes some powder, lipstick and blush to put on your rosy cheeks while you sit patiently on a chair.

You were afraid that your hair would have gotten messy during the process but the maids reassured you that you shouldn't worry since their hands were as gentle as they could be.

Once finished dressing your hair, the maid carefully brushes your long hair, careful not to mess it up until your hair falls naturally onto your face. You look pretty and beautiful in your new dress.

Once the maid finishes styling your hair, she gives you the mirror," I hope you feel satisfied your highness. The color suits you so well."

"I think so too," you smile at her softly and then your smile drops when your mother walks inside your chambers and smiles warmly at you.

"How are you sweetheart? You look beautiful in that dress," She compliments you softly.

You turn your head away from her," Thanks, mother,"  trying not to frown at her kind words, your mother seems to notice how unhappy you were about something.

"What's wrong?" Her eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

"It's just that...." Your eyes started watering again.

You wanted to tell her everything but you knew that she wouldn't really care. She never was around in the palace when you grew up. She only came back from her trips once or twice  a year which was the reason why you barely saw each other.

Her visits meant nothing but now, you realized that you missed the feeling of being around her more than you had thought.

"I just...," not knowing how to say it, your mother sits next to you on a chair, pity in her gaze.

"Is it his majesty? You're not happy with him? It's not too late to back out and you can come with us home. It would be better if,-"

"No! It's nothing like that! I love him! " Your voice gets louder as tears started falling faster down your face.

Your mother looked surprised at first, unsure about how to react," You love him?"

You nodded your head," I've loved him since forever. Since the moment I met him, I've been fascinated by him. But I didn't realize what' i felt when I became attracted to him. When he kissed me, when he smiled at me, the feelings intensified. Then I fell in love with him and I couldn't imagine my life without him. So please, help me, mom. Tell dad to back down from his stupid demands but promise that you'll support me in getting married today!"

"Why wouldn't I support you?"

"You've never been by my side when I needed to make my own decisions. It was my father who always made sure I was okay so of course I'm asking you for support. You owe me that much, mother.”

She sighed deeply," I really don't agree with this agreement though. I want you to choose someone better than this man, someone worthy of you. Someone who can give you the happiness you deserve. He may seem handsome and caring yet deep down inside he has selfish desires and he's just using you. Your father didn't told you that he is trying to go back to heaven once he proves himself worthy, did he?"

Confused, you frown at her," He said something about proving himself to the higher angels once he is done building his kingdom here but he never said anything about going back to heaven. I'm sure you've misunderstood something,"

"I think he's planning to betray you, Y/n."

"What?"

"He said that once he finds proof that he is worthy, he will return to heaven. So I advise for you to think before you jump into this marriage,"

"There's no point in thinking about it. Even if he does find proofs against him, he'll still come back to me anyway. He loves me more than any single word ever written. We are perfect together, mom. Everything about our story is true," you argue with her.

Smiling sadly at you, your mother shook her head," I'm sorry my dear. Maybe you'll understand someday in time but don't you think that marrying this man is a huge mistake?"

"No. I've already made the decision long ago. I've chosen him and no matter what happens later, we will get through it together so stop trying to stop me."

"But you're the heir to the throne! You have responsibilities and people to think of! You can't leave your kingdom behind because of one selfish man. Think about your future! What's going to happen to us if you decide to marry him and there is no one who continues to run the kingdom?!"

"Mom," You whisper.

Sighing heavily, your mother runs her fingers through her curly hair. "Just, please think about this seriously. Don't do this. Please, please reconsider." With these last words, she got up from her seat and leaves your chambers.

Closing your door quietly behind her, the maid who was doing your makeup comes back inside since she left so you can talk to your mother in private.

"What happened to your eyes, your highness? Were you crying?"

"It's nothing. My mother and I had a disagreement over something. She doesn't believe in marriage so I think I'm free to decide what will happen to our kingdoms once I am married," You smile at her, hoping it would ease her worries, but she simply shakes her head and goes back to applying makeup to you.

When she finishes, she dismisses herself with a bow and lets you know that everyone has gathered in the throne room for the ceremony. Thanking her, you let yourself breathe for a moment before you walk out yourself.

Trying to calm your nerves, the sudden sensation over your shoulder makes you shiver and you glance over to see Jungkook standing by the window.

"When did you get here?" You ask nervously.

Then you notice his royal suit for the ceremony.

Completely black but for the white cape that hangs loosely on his shoulders which is strapped by shiny black gem stones.

His expression is unreadable as he stares at you. His hands are tucked behind his back and he is leaning against the wall besides the window.

"A couple minutes ago," He answers simply.

Taking another deep breath, you lower your gaze and try to control your nerves.

"Uh-it's a bad sign if you see the bride before the wedding,"  You joke as you laugh humorlessly, your heart rate picking up the pace.

"Oh yeah?"  He asks with interest.

You swallow hard. "Yeah. That means we're going to fight."

Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he tries to hold back a grin," Is that so?" He says playfully.

"Mhm," You answer nodding your head, agreeing with whatever he says even though you weren't sure anymore.

Your conversation with mother still clouded your mind and you were afraid to  speak again about something related to it. After taking a few more deep breaths, you decide to bring up the topic.

"So...," You clear your throat, trying not to stutter." When did you really came inside? I would've seen you because I was only here with one of your maids. She helped me dress up."

"Oh? I thought saw your mother walking out of our bedroom."

Waiting for you to deny, you nodded your head," Yes, she was here."

"What did you two talk about?"

"Nothing important." You lie.

He walks closer to you, making you feel nervous all of the sudden. You could smell his strong cologne as he leans in, staring intensely at you.

His eyes seem to stare into your soul as you try to not hover in place.

"Lying doesn't suit you, princess." He flashes his teeth in a sharp smile.

"What makes you say that?" You ask sarcastically.

He smiles even wider," I heard every word your mother told you. About how she doesn't approve our marriage, our relationship and that I'm just using you to my own benefit."

"H-how?" You manage to utter as you blink twice, not knowing how even he knew that.

"I know everything, love. " He takes a step back.

You shake your head in disbelief," How is this possible? Are you able to spy on people from outside their walls? Does it have to do with your magic or special hearing?"

"Both of them, darling,"  He chuckles.

"How..?"

Jungkook shrugs," Because I'm a guardian angel. There aren't many things I don't know or couldn't find out about someone who's supposed to be my queen. I'm a protector,"

"So you can read my mind too?"

"No, I can't read minds. But I've known you for years to know what you think and right now you are thinking about if that's true what your mother said."

"You mean about that you're going to heaven after  you prove yourself to the higher angels?" You question as you look at him with uncertainty.

He smiles," Are you scared that I will leave you?"

"No,"  you say immediately, shaking your head with conviction." No, never."

"I'm glad. The longer that I spend with you, the easier it is for me to believe that the universe decided to pair you with me. I know for a fact you wouldn't survive without me, especially when our souls are connected. Our souls are linked. That means if something bad ever happens to either of us then the other will die along with the person."

"We're already bonded, Jungkook. It's impossible for something bad to happen. We'll figure this out together."

Nodding his head at you, he replies," We will. And don't worry about your mother. If she believes we should break up, I'll take care of it. As long as you're happy and safe with me. As long as I'm around you. No one can separate you from me. Trust me,"  He whispers, placing his hand on your cheek softly.

You nod your head as tears begin to fall down your face. "Thank you. I love you. I really do,"

Pulling you close to him, he hugs you tightly, whispering to your ear," I really do, too." Kissing your neck lightly he adds," Now come on, let's go before they think we're late so lets get married, shall we?"

"Wait, Jungkook," you grab his sleeve," You didn't say anything about my dress."

The corners of his lips tug upward," You look beautiful."

"You think so?" You blush lightly.

"Of course," He says, his voice dropping low and sending chills down your spine.

"Now come on, princess, I'll take good care of you so that you'll never forget."

Smiling shyly, you follow him out of the room.

Be continued…

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

Taglist: @lepau123 @the-princess-of-mischief-1998 @11thenightwemet11 @khadeeeeej (If you want to be tagged, please message me)

🅒 All rights reserved

[shuchu]

Hi again! If possible could you do “You look so good with my hands around your neck.” with Shu? (he just pop-up in my mind when i saw this)

-🦋

⸝⸝⊂➜﹒your new necklace ⊃⸝⸝

shuchu's 100 follower event

prompt: "you look so good with my hand around your neck."

character: shu yamino ; dom!shu ; slightly ooc i think but lemme indulge just this once

warnings: nsfw, minors dni ; afab!reader ; choking ; not proof read

author notes: good lord, it's been forever since i posted an actual fic. this is probably really mid but i hope you guys enjoy regardless!! thank you for participating in the event 🦋 anon ♡ decorative divider: @/mykaesu on twt  ⋯♡ᵎ

enjoy lovelies! ♡

you looked over at your boyfriend from the bed, his eyes fixed onto the screens in front of him, hard at work. you sigh softly, usually you’re really patient, waiting till he’s done with his work but today, you needed him. 

you were really into playing a certain gacha game lately and became really fond of the characters in the game. you wanted more content for certain characters so you pulled up your trusty fanfiction website. you chanced upon a smutty piece with the character you really liked and now you were all hot and bothered. 

you called out to your boyfriend, “shu?”

“yeah?”

“can i come sit on your lap?” you ask sweetly.

he hums, “yeah, sure, c’mere.”

you shuffle over to him and straddle him, resting your chin on his shoulder. a soft chuckle erupts from his chest.

“someone missed me huh?”

you nod and start leaving gentle kisses on the side of his neck. shu inhales sharply and opened his mouth to say something but decided against it.

your kisses became more heated and sloppy, you started sucking and nibbling at the delicate skin, leaving faint marks.

"b-babe...it's kinda hard to focus when you're doing that..."

you hum, "why don't you pay attention to me instead?"

"i'm almost done, just give me a few more minutes alright?"

you pout, the need in your lower abdomen was growing by the minute and you needed to do something about it soon. you decided to grind on him as discretely as possible.

shu didn't seem to realise at first but then when you felt his hard on poking against you, you turn to look at him; his jaw was clenched and his grip on his mouse tightened.

a few minutes pass, shu's arms wrap around you and lifts you up. he strides towards the bed and drops you onto it gently.

his hands moved down to your heat, his two fingers rubbing you through your underwear, "you really couldn't wait could you? you were that needy and desperate for me." he smirked after feeling your slick against his fingers.

"shu- ngh-! p-please...i need you." you whined, moving your hips against his fingers.

he pulls down your underwear in one swift motion and slides his fingers against your slit, gathering slick on his fingers.

he leans down, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear, "what do you want babe? tell me."

"hhhnnngg- i want you to fuck me...please!" you whimper

he chuckles lowly and moves his digits to his lips, licking your essence off them, making you squeeze your thighs together from the sight.

shu then proceeds to undress, his length hitting against his lower abdomen when it got released from its confines. you lick your lips and spread your legs, looking at him with lust filled eyes.

he then slides his length in with one swift motion, making your eyes roll back and your tongue loll out. he moans softly from how warm and soft you feel and starts thrusting roughly into you.

"was this what you wanted hmm? for me to fill you up?"

you nod dumbly, unable to say anything other than moan and mewl

"yeah? nghh- you feel so good..."

his hands snake up from your hips to your neck, gently wrapping his fingers around it to gauge your reaction. when he feels you clamp down on his length, he lets out a guttural moan and tightens his grip a little.

"you look so pretty with my hand around your neck."

with that praise, you tighten even more around him, making him groan and thrust into you harder.

with the lack of air and the way his dick kept kissing your sweet spot, you were getting close and shu was too — his pace increasing in speed and his grip on your hips tightening.

"ah-! s-shu....i-i'm g-gonna..."

"yeah? m-me too- fuck."

you cry out his name and your back arches off the bed as you reach your climax. shu thrusts into you roughly a few more times before pulling out and ropes of his cum land on your stomach and lower abdomen.

shu leans down to give you a soft peck.

"how did that feel? was i too rough?" he asks in a hushed tone.

you shake your head, panting, still trying to catch your breath.

"no...i really liked it. you know it's okay to be a little rough with me sometimes." you giggle bashfully.

shu chuckles and gives you a kiss on your forehead, "i'll keep that in mind babe."

he then leans back and gets off the bed to get a cloth to clean you up.

[huiyi07]

It’s been a hot minute since sun and the star’s release and I can finally come out and say it I think: it was mid af

Anyway disclaimer real quick, esp since it’s pride month AHAHAHA but I know next to nothing about Mark Oshiro other than they’re a cool person who writes lots of black and Latina subject material, and LGBTQ focused novels for YA audiences which is like. As you should, since their novels focus on real issues and can really open young readers’ minds, but I think one of the most glaring issues is that Rick chose to co-write it with them as an attempt to understand the lgbtq+ audiences more, which obviously is great and something we should applaud yeah like genuinely thank you Rick for doing what like every other mainstream media never does

and again, I’ve never read any of Mark’s original books and I definitely can’t say they’re a bad writer; but their writing style is definitely a lot younger (?) if that makes sense because like there was such an oddly foreign presence in the book, especially the relationship heavy scenes felt straight out of a fanfiction and you could kinda guess which parts Rick or Mark wrote fs 😭😭 and really that’s not an issue, but an author as young as Mark would ofc write things differently than Rick and it could very well clash when you bring them together

Anyway I think a lot of us agreed that a ton of it kinda felt OOC and I really don’t think we can blame Mark for trying to add the rep we needed, even though it is 99% probably the result of co writing it with someone completely new to writing the Percy Jackson universe- and I wouldn’t go as far as to say Mark shouldn’t have contributed, no, but as for the writing itself, I would’ve loved to see Rick’s slightly more subtle (well aside from throwing 2 people into a lake to make out) takes on romance and more reliance on adventure, not relationship to carry the book

not sure what my point is here but, basically, thank you Mark and Rick for trying and doing pretty okay actually, but I think we were taken aback and not in a great way by the sudden departure of how these books usually go

[narcissarina]

Darkened Desires

Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 1,206

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

CHAPTER 4:

THE SUN

My mind plays back to the other day, the man with purple hair approaches me and tip me a 100$ with me giving a minimal effort, I didn’t even do anything and what I did isn’t something special, right?

Every now and then I would feel my stomach dropping, like my guts is telling me something but I couldn’t pin point that assumption, is he a dangerous person? I thought to myself, my head full of question and my mind swirling to one point to another.

It makes my head hurt and I want to bang my head against a hard table or wall.

“The fuck are you doing?” I flinched as I got startled from Estrella’s sudden presence—snatching my thoughts away and give my full attention to her, I play out a smile and clasp my hand together, “nothing.” I assured, but she knows that there’s more to it when I’m getting a little twitchy all of a sudden.

“Don’t lie, I know there is something bothering you.” Her soft voice hints deep concern, I sigh and wrap my arm in my head, taking a deep groan and sigh.

I couldn’t escape her, nor could I lie to her. She’s my friend and I love her with all my life. I bit my lips in a thin line and deeply inhale and exhale, “remember those guys in the black expensive tux the other day?”

She nodded, “uh-huh, what about them?”

“They just give me this icky feeling, I don’t know.” I wave my hand and pinch my own cheek, face on the table as I lightly tap my forehead against the harden wood of the table. I wish I could bang my head here as hard and loud as possible, but that would be making me a fool out of myself.

“What kind of feeling?”

“Like, a feeling where you felt like you put yourself in danger type a feeling.”

Estrella nodded, legs crossed and her drink in hand—taking a sip and look at me. Before she could speak, another voice was heard beside us, “Hi!” it was cheerful and full of life, I turn my head and see another one of my friends. I turn up and smiled, standing from my seat and gave her a big warm hug.

“Oh my god, hi to you too!” I greeted her, my hands behind her back as we embrace on a tender hug, “it’s been a while.” She said and sat beside Estrella, “your arrival is the most unexpected too, Vhinella Azmy.”

Vhinella Azmy.

I haven’t heard of her for a long time, it brought a smile to my face when I knew that she’s finally free of her schedule, “well, you know me.” Vhinella spoke in a teasing tone, “schedules been packing and work is a little.” She motion a circle mid-air and made an ick expression, telling how she feels about her work and schedule.

“I heard you guys talking about something, so..” Vhinella starts, legs crossed and shift in her seat at her right, “what happened?” she finally asked, I groan and slam my head yet again on the hard wooden table, causing my friends drink jump a little.

Estrella took a sip and sigh, filling Vhinella in on what happened on the other day and how I felt like someone is watching me, even in my own home. Vhinella had a straight serious face as she listen and process all what Estrella told her.

Silence was loud as Estrella filled her up with the story, their attention and gaze shifted to me. I don’t even want to look at them, I’m at my lowest. If they think they see me, no they don’t. I’m invisible.

Vhinella offered us a ride and go on shopping with her, she says that it’s “her treat” and that she’ll be spoiling us today, she’s a great friend really. Trying to lift up my spirit and gossiping with Estrella, trying to impress me on who has the most juiciest tea to spill.

We went to arcades, shopping malls, pick clothes and buy some little plushies, and before we knew it, it was already 7:45 pm. Estrella excused herself first, grab a cab and went home, Vhinella offered me a ride on my way home but I want to decline, instead—she’ll drop me off somewhere so that I could get some nightly walk.

I got off the car and goes to her car window, she rolled her window down and smiled at me—reaching out to pinch my cheek and gave it a little slap, “be careful, ok?” she hums, her voice deep with concern. I smiled and boop her nose, feeling a little playful.

“I will, don’t worry.” I assured her as she drove away, I watch her car fade away far, far away. My surroundings seem a little empty, but it was common in this neighborhood since it’s now nighttime, fewer cars and people.

This is part is what I love most here, nighttime.

The night is peaceful here, gives me a peace of mind. It oddly relaxes me even though I know that I might get in danger, but I didn’t care. I just want one last walk before going home. Where I live in a butt-fuck nowhere surrounded by trees.

While I was busy humming to myself, I come across an alleyway, it was dark and eerie. I see two silhouettes, one is on the ground and one is standing before that person. Light’s flicker and I saw a good glimpse of two people, to see what they look like. I breath hitches and hit in the corner.

The man from the other day, that was him—standing before a blooded and unmoved man before him,

God damn I knew he screams danger.

Shit, I don’t know what to do. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I should’ve taken Vhinella up to her offer, I’m screwed and fucked.

His head snapped, he felt my presence as I quickly and quietly slam my back against the wall. I stood still for a good few seconds before looking back again, he isn’t there… and so is the dead body.

I am fucked.

A hand reached out behind me, covering my mouth.

I struggled, he pressed me against the cold wall, his front pressing my back, I struggle from his grasp. I wanna scream, cry and fight but no avail. I’m not built like that, I beg him inside my mind—thousand thoughts swirl in my head at the same time. Tears dropping from my cheeks, but he spoke.

“Shh… Atta girl,” his lips almost touching my ear, “should’ve kept walking, tsk.” He said, then I felt him inject something on the crook of my neck while telling degrading praises in my ear.

“be good.”

“stop resisting, or I’ll do worst.”

“Pretty girl, there, there.”

Last words I heard from him as my mind went blank, my head felt heavy and fuzzy and my eyes closing. I tried fighting it off but the urge was too strong to fight off.

“You knew that it should not have come to this.” He said, grinning before carrying me in his arm before fully closing my eyes shut.

I blacked out.

Link:

Chapter 5: THE SUN

[dasha-aibo]

I do think a lot of doomerism about culture is just blatantly wrong.

Culture does progress. 10s and 20s feel distinctly different from the 00s in a variety of ways. We're just too stuck in our daily lives to notice.

Shit like MLG gaming compilations, dubstep, k-pop, the mainstreamification of fanfiction, the "soft" cartoon aesthetic, MCU movies, Taylor Swift, djent, Netflix shows, rise of the micro-aesthetics, clean girl and minimalist girl trends, even the way websites look, NFTs and neural network "art".

Are those high-brow culture? They aren't. They are about as vapid and shallow as hair metal, 80s summer blockbusters, post-grunge, flannel over t-shirts, saturday morning action cartoons and jazz solo cups. We just don't have thick nostalgia lenses to look at late 00s, 10s and 20s cultural milestones. Yet.

99% of culture is always, invariably, vapid nonsense. But to say that modern vapid nonsesne is somehow more vapid and more nonsensical than 80s vapid nonsense is just incorrect.

Also, like

I can tell if an app has not seriously updated it's look from back in the early-mid 10s. That wouldn't happen if "all culture felt the same".

We just don't have the benefit of hindsight.

And us old people will always, always complain about how things were better when we were younger.

[twelvelevens]

Hunting The Hunter (Chapter 1)

F!Reader x William Afton, explicit themes, bad language, eventual smut, reader is in her mid to late twenties

You tried to turn your life around by moving to Utah, where the unexpected was waiting just for you to show up. You will make sure to solve the state's biggest mystery, fulfilling your darkest desires in the process.

Ao3 link Chapter 2 Hey there! I dreamed about someone writing a fic with a strong reader, so I thought I might as well write it myself lol. It's something unusual for my blog, I rarely write fanfiction and this is honestly my first time writing something in English. So, if you notice some weird mistakes I apologize as this work hasn't been beta read. There will be multiple chapters (and the stuff will get more explicit as the story progresses), but I don't plan on making this fic very long, cause it's kinda difficult for me yet. Hope you like it!

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You always knew something was off about this man, you just couldn’t pinpoint what. An exemplary family guy, a reliable co-worker, anyone could always come for advice to… “Good morning, ladies.” A one charismatic motherfucker. He was passing you and your female colleagues by, greeting you with the most simple phrase, yet delivering it in a way every woman within 20 feet melted as she stood. Steve came up giving you an appraising look for what felt like eternity, a warm smile lighting up his bearded face once he was done with the measurements. Your stomach dropped, the man wasn’t looking at you for more than half a second moving on to talk to your colleagues, but for you the time has stopped the moment the eyes behind those gold framed glasses locked with yours. Was it fear or… excitement? Frankly, feeling any of them does not make you happy at all, considering quite a strong intuition you have as a former police officer - a part you tried to leave in the past. A part that didn’t work out. You smiled back, stabilizing yourself on a water cooler (heck, you held onto its corner for dear life), but Steve wasn’t looking anymore. He left just as suddenly as he appeared, making waves in your life sea once again.

A regular day at work was soothing you with its normality, it would’ve been the most ordinary day if not for the morning encounter. You were going through your usual paperwork sitting at the desk in a cubicle, when the quiet humming of fluorescent lamps and fax sounds were interrupted by a loud ringing of the work phone. You almost jumped in your seat at the sound that hit your ears harder than usual. You picked up to hear a familiar voice call your name. “Please, come over to my office when you’re free.” “Sure, Mr. Raglan.” You answered, being anything but sure. The quiet day has ended right there.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before knocking firmly on the door. “Come in.” Replied the voice. You entered, closing the door. Steve was sitting at the desk looking through some papers. “Please, have a seat.” He said calmly without raising his eyes. You obeyed, sitting yourself in a chair right in front of him. Not being able to resist, you took a closer look at Steve’s face, his mature features captivating the hell out of you. The way he frowned reading whatever he read in these papers, the way he hummed in interest, the way he adjusted his glasses. Jeez, get a grip, a grown woman quivering like a little girl over a man double her age, you thought to yourself. He shouldn’t be seeing your weaknesses, not before you find out just what is up with him. “You wanted to see me?” You asked, breaking the silence. “I did.” he said, finally letting go of the documents to look up at you and smile. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t very nice of me to make you wait while I read all of these,” Steve gestures at the papers, “But this info is rather crucial for the matter I called you to discuss with me.” He points at one of the sheets. It’s a printout of security camera shots in a very low quality, taken a couple of days ago as the date in the corner suggests. “You see, one of the important objects suffered from a break-in recently, since there’s no regular security staff there at the moment. We’re partly responsible for it, because it’s our job to offer this position to people and make them accept it, however unattractive the conditions might seem.” 

He got up from a chair, a large figure towering over the desk. The office was full of light sources leaving no room for the darkness, but he was so tall you can swear he almost casted a shadow on you. You were no small girl, but sitting like this before him made you feel like a cat hiding under a car, pleased with the cover it gave you, but anxiously wondering if it was going to crush you the next second. Thankfully, he only went past you to the other end of the office. “Coffee?” Steve asked innocently, making one for himself. “Yes, please.” You answered shortly, refraining from asking questions. Choosing the strategy to silently observe, you knew: interesting facts tend to resurface once you stop interfering in people’s flow of thought and just give them room to continue. Steve turned around, handing you a normal-sized cup that seemed almost like a toy in his hand. You took it, smiling thankfully, and nodded at him to go on. He drank from his mug, staring at you in expectation for a moment, and chuckled, surprised by the boldness: you stared back unapologetically and kept your silence. “So, uh,” he grinned and looked down, showing a tiny bit of shyness for the first time since you’ve met him, “I’ve noticed you’re not of the timid type, so I’m guessing my request will not be of trouble to you. Also considering your past as a police officer.” You noticeably strained. “Yeah, I went through your files. Don’t worry, it’s a simple job, you only need to do one thing - go inside and check for stolen and broken things. Well, and try to find something that’ll probably help identify the guys that did it, in the process.” “That’s two things.” You noticed Steve’s grip on his mug tighten, making his fingers go white. “So, do you think you will be able to do this for me?” He asked kindly, ignoring your statement. “Why won’t you just make the police deal with it?” “I am doing this right now.” He chuckled. “You see, the owner is a… Pain in the ass. He threatened to call the police, meaning putting our company at risk as well, for not fulfilling our part of the contract. I reassured him we will deal with this internally, so. Here I am, asking for a favor.” The man shrugged, spreading his arms in a wide gesture. “A favor? You will not be paying me for this?” You smiled at him inquiringly. Steve laughed and glanced to the side before looking back at you. He was certainly impressed by your confidence. “I might’ve underestimated you.” There was a short pause, as if he was considering what to say next. “Of course I will. Every job requires a payment, doesn’t it?”

You were sitting in a chair cross-legged, running your eyes through the sheets Steve studied when you walked into the office. Taking a sip of the coffee he made you, you felt bittersweet warmth spread inside your chest. Mr. Raglan sat at his desk across from you, arms crossed. “So, do I need to know anything about this place, Fazbear’s Pizzeria?” You asked, nose still in the documents, just the way he talked to you earlier. There was some silence, so you had to look up at the man. He looked back with a blank expression for a few seconds, before turning his head to the window. “I heard you’re not from around here.” “I’m from Nebraska.” Steve smirked and turned to face you again. “Yeah? I’ve been there. A couple times.” His expression suddenly made your skin crawl. Him and his secrets. “So, the place was really popular back in the day, but it has been long abandoned. The owner kinda wants to preserve its memory, I guess. A sentimental guy.” He talked about it with somewhat of a nostalgic feeling in his voice. “Right… So there’s a chance the building will collapse on my head as I walk in?” “It didn’t collapse on those who broke into it, I’m sure it can withstand a proper entrance through its back door. Besides, it’s well taken care of, you wouldn’t even be able to tell it’s no longer in use. We send people to work there if you haven’t forgotten.” You haven’t, and this time you were supposed to become one of them. “Ok. Why can’t I enter through the main door though?” “It’s blocked by a jumble of furniture and broken stuff, we asked the owner to declutter the passage, but I think he still hasn't done anything about it yet.”

Steve answered each of your questions as a diligent student fully prepared for the exam, yet the whole backstory seemed extremely shady to you for some reason, even though you got nothing on him. You had to crack him somehow. “Mr. Raglan…” “Please, call me Steve.” “Steve, you know, it seems like a very nice place to kill me and ditch the body.” You said, smiling widely, as you looked him straight in the eye.

[nerdieforpedro]

What He Deserves

Tim Rockford x female reader

My blog overall is Fanfiction is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Tim Rockford Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Tim thinks about what went wrong in your relationship.

Warnings: Sad Tim, angst, body issues, domestic fluff

Notes: I'm trying to write shorter fics to try and get my juices going hopefully for other fics I'm supposed to be working on.

Tim wonders what could have been had he just told you then. That you make him laugh, make him glad that the day’s finally done, that your hand is the one he wants to hold while watching Rocky III for the 50th time. He knows you hate it but you’ll watch it with him because he has you place your legs in his lap while his calloused hands run over your skin.

What should he have said? He wasn’t ready and he didn’t want to lose you. Despite being the gruff man he is, you’d brought out a soft side of him. Something he’d long forgotten since his children were grown and had their own lives. Tim ran his hands over his scalp as the water ran down his back. He had renovated the house for you, your own office, a large shower with dual sinks so you two could get ready in the morning together. He used to joke with you that maybe he should get a brightly colored bonnet too so that he could still see when the lights were off. You’d slap him on the shoulder.

Turning the water off and stepping out of the shower, he looked at himself through the steamy haze. He’s older, more gray than the chocolate brown he’d had. A bit rounder due to those dinners and lunches you’d make him before bed. Now he was back to take out. He’d never thought he would come to hate the stuff but he loathes it now. It means you’re not here with him. You’d put him on vegetable duty while you handled the meat and starches. The doctor said his numbers had never been better and he could stop taking two of his blood pressure pills.

Now what does he do? Who will he talk to at the end of the day? Hold at night? Have to make fun of him a little for his ties and shirts even though you’ll iron them and tie his tie for him in the morning.

He knows you’re at your sister’s place. It’s been a week. The longest fight you’d had. He should have just done the same thing when you asked him about smoothies that he never drank and that you didn’t either, “it’s something to think about.”

Rockford knows you likely weren’t even going to push for anything to happen this year or the next, you’re both in your mid-fourties’ so kids weren’t the issue. You’d just wanted to talk about tying the knot. Taking his name as you’d explained or hyphenating it. He thinks back to the night in question:

Tim’s reaction had been so visceral. “No we’re not. We don’t have to, didn’t we agree to that?!” The look on your face told him his mistake. He should have remained silent or just said he’d think about it. But three bad marriages and four kids from two different women colored him sour to the idea. He knew you’d never been married, that you loved him. You have for the five years you’ve been with him.

He has a rare day off today. He should go and use it to talk things out, explain why even though you’re aware of his past. Likely not about his feelings, most people would assume Tim Rockford would have moved on but he doesn’t. Not easily. It’s why it had taken him so long to ask you to dinner all those years ago. He’d still felt like a failure, a whole ‘three strikes you’re out’ deal. Life isn’t like that. You’re only out when you’re dead, which he’s not. 

In the car, Tim listens to instrumental blues, his feelings floating out of the window with the saxophone. He pulls in front of your sister’s home and sees you sitting on the porch, holding your niece. She’s six but still likes to be held sometimes. You see him and nod, standing and carrying her inside. He steps out and walks across the yard, asking to sit down. Graciously, you allow him to. Your sister peeps her head out and tosses him a dirty look and asks if you’re okay. You say you are and wave her away. 

“She still hates me, I see.”

“Well, she had gotten to the point of tolerating you but it’s back to hate.” Your eyes are red and puffy. Dark circles underneath them tell him what you won’t. He has the same eyes so he knows.

“Sweetheart. I’m sorry I reacted that way. I just…I should have listened.” Tim admits. He’s an excellent listener. You need to be able to interrogate and be a detective. He’d failed the other night though, completely.

“Thanks for coming, Tim. I didn’t mean to bring it up so suddenly. I just wondered if you’d thought about it at all. I guess not.” You turned away from him and looked over the yard, he doesn’t know what your eyes are looking for but he does see fear. You’re scared of what? He reached for your hand, touching it tentatively before grasping it after you didn't pull away. “Or maybe you never thought you would again. Because of the hurt and rejection.”

Your last word stings as his grip tightens slightly. That might be part of your fear, the rejection he gave you that night. He sighs, he can’t deny that it wasn’t, but he wants you to know. 

“I love you. I didn’t mean to reject you or the idea of us getting married. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I…” He pauses. He pondered why it stung so badly when you’d asked. “I wasn’t or rather I’m not sure if I deserve you being tethered to me for the rest of your days. I don’t feel like I’m deserving of that anymore. I’m thankful that you’re with me honey.”

Your eyes are wide and he’s trying to calculate how badly he’s messed up this time. He was honest but what he said did half sound like a break up and then begging. Where was he going with this? Did he even have a plan? You stood while holding his hand then shook it off. Tim thought you might stomp inside the house but you didn’t. You bent down and kissed his forehead and then his lips softly.

“For such a brilliant man, you’re an idiot Timothy Rockford.” His confusion led to a beaming smile from you. “I’m with you and want to marry you because I want to be tied to you Tim. I’m the happiest I’ve been. You deserve to have someone you love beside you as I do.”

Tim shoots up out of his chair and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you almost making you wince. “I’m sorry for being an idiot. I’m your idiot detective baby.” A swift kiss to your shoulder as you tell him you’re going to go inside and pack your bags.

The drive home had Jazz and some classic disco thrown in for you. Singing badly together as you pulled up in the driveway, Tim carried two of your bags as you held your purse. The house was just as you’d left it, minus the take out on the counter. You chuckled at the sight and told Tim you’d cook after putting your things away. He went upstairs to help you and assisted in cooking and putting the take out away. Laughter resumed in the once cold home.

“I think I should make you Mrs. Rockford sooner rather than later.” Tim cooed in your ear as he held you after dinner, rocking you slowly as his chin rested on your shoulder.

“Is that right? It can be small Tim. I’m not one for fuss and too many people. Really, I’d prefer a small wedding and then we spend a few weeks somewhere tropical.” Your hand ran through his graying locks, cut short as he preferred, you chuckled from his beard against your neck.

“Anything you want. I’m fine with it, I’ll have to fit into a tux.” He chuckled and you shook your head.

“You know you look damn good in a suit, Rockford.”

“You’re always right honey.”

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