#me clawing at the walls like I want to ALREADY KNOW THESE SKILLS

[mommalosthermind]

I want to draw. i do not know how to draw. I did draw that bird one time and it took like four days and wasn’t like. Awful. And then promptly refused to touch the sketchbook for like three years... which puts me back at How. Do you draw.

I say like I don’t have the internet and that random masterclass video, which will point out, correctly mind you, that step one is ‘put pencil to paper and move it around’

So. I guess I should pick a character to get really really weird about. Y’know. Outside of writing.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Got me awe struck how you write so well kinda wish i had that skill too! Anyway, how about boyfriend praising reader(who felt insecure) starting from sweet then getting creepier. Like something in the lines of "praising their kindness, so lucky to have them" to "he knows , he will kill for them."

A/N: A/N: sacrificed my soul for this one and it didn't turn out as slayful as I wanted.. Anyway, I hope this is what you were thinking anon :D sorry for any mistakes and thank you!

Synopsis: Your boyfriend's compliment goes a little too far when he tries to cheer you up.

T/W: Mildly graphic threats of violence, forced kissing, manipulation, insecure reader, yandere themes/behaviors

WC:3000

You found yourself in a bathroom stall for the fifth time in one evening, sitting on the toilet with your head in your hands. You just wanted it all to go away: the people, the drinks, the music that boomed in your ears. You had already stained your sequined clothes with spilt champagne earlier that night, the stickiness of it on your chest beginning to mix with the thick sweat crawling down your neck. It was too damn hot in here, the buzz of the bathroom fan making you claw at your updone hair. 

The mass amounts of club goers here were far more accustomed to this lifestyle than you. Which was intimidating, to say the least. They all looked so perfectly dolled up-- not a smudge of makeup out of place, delicious scents of colognes and perfumes mixing together. Not to mention, they could hold their alcohol far better than you could. 

One bitter cocktail and you were already hazy-eyed, your face warm and balance a little loopy.  You were by no means drunk, but the contents of your drink had certainly offered a level of instability to your emotions and movements. 

The image of men in their chic dress shirts that showed hours of gym time and girls in their tight party dresses made you want to curl up in the corner and marinate in self-pity. It was hard not to compare yourself, not when you spent hours searching for the right clothes that would fit with your boyfriend’s stylish accents, constantly perfecting your concealer to hide the dark bags beneath your eyes. 

And yet, even with your hard work, you still felt out of place, still felt the pinch of hundreds of passing stares and biting grins of condescension as you stood next to your overly charismatic significant other. 

Through your pounding headache and shaky breaths, You could hear the winding creak of the bathroom door being pushed open. 

Narrow-footed shoes echoed on the white tile floor, slowly passing each bathroom stall and sink basin. 

“Sweetheart?” A voice questioned. “You in here?” 

You stayed silent, covering your mouth and lifting your feet from the floor. You didn’t want him to know you had spent the past 20 minutes in here wiping away stinging tears from your eyes, shoving paper towels down the front of your dazzling shirt to soak up champagne. You smelled like alcohol and whatever cleaner they used to permeate the bathroom with, and it certainly wouldn’t be a sight that you wanted your boyfriend to see. 

However, despite your attempts to make yourself disappear, you saw his clubbing shoes patiently make their way to the front of your stall. You looked within the separating crack of the door and the wall, seeing a blur of black clothes and sun-kissed skin. Your eyes focused and without warning you made eye contact with him, his face showing a worried, yet sly grin. He was waiting-- peering in on you sitting there in ruin. 

You jolted in surprise, your foot slipping from the toilet seat as you looked away. You hoped if you moved fast enough, that maybe he would think you were someone else.

“C’mon, let me in.” He pressed against the door, trying to open it from the outside. 

Well, seemed like tricking him didn’t work. 

“Don’t come in here Ezra! I--” You weren’t sure how to convince him to go away. “I don’t want you to see me.”

He went quiet, keeping his hand atop the door handle and watching the door.

“Why not?”

Panic rose in your chest again, forcing you to try to come up with a way to get him to leave you alone, atleast long enough to make yourself look presentable. 

“I-... I just--”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t make fun of you or anything, just open the door,” He raddled the handle, pressing his face against the crack of the door. 

“Don’t!” You shout, trying to cover the crack with your hands.

Your boyfriend let out a low grunt, annoyed at your stubbornness. 

He tried rattling the door once more, pulling hard enough to make the hinges creak. You feared that if he pulled any harder, he might rip the entire door off. 

“You’ve been in there for almost a half hour,” Ezra impatiently replied, putting his hand on the top of the stall door. “If you don’t open up, I’m going to force my way in there.”

He began to pull, jerking the door hard enough that the other stalls began to clatter. 

“No-- wait okay okay okay!” You panicked, trying to pry his hand away from the top of the door. 

Instantaneously he grabbed your wrist, pulling it upward to get a good handle on you. His fingers were warm, as if he had his hands clenched for a long period of time. 

“I’m not letting go until you do.” He said coldly, squeezing your hand. He was serious, holding your wrist securely enough to show he meant business: he’d stand there all night if that's what it took. Your several disappearances had worried him enough.

His thumb moved up to caress the dip in your palm, turning your hand to face outwards. Ezra’s face was still pressed up against the door crack, looking to provoke you further out. 

Stomping your foot, you wracked your brain for something-- anything, to deter him away. But the lingering threat of his hand left your mind to draw a blank. 

“....Fine.” You mutter, pulling the paper towels out of your chest. You try to wipe away any leftover tears, but you know it does little to lessen the redness of your eyes. 

With a shaky breath, you ask him to stand back, and slowly unlock the door. Purposely taking as long as possible, you keep your feet moving at an inchworm's pace, hardly stepping away from the stall. 

Your boyfriend tears open the stall door now that its unlocked, not yet releasing your arm. 

You see his figure in front of you but refuse to look up, instead turning away and allowing him to drag you out of the small confines of the stall. He pulls you to the large sink basins, reaching for your chin. You flinch a little as he turns your head, looking at your tear stricken face. You felt like a mess, but he didn’t seem to change expression as you stared back. 

 “Now, what’s been the matter sweetheart?” 

You feel the cold of his rings against your balmy cheeks, his thumb running over your wet eyelashes to brush away unfallen tears. 

“I just don’t feel good…” You say, relishing in the affection, even though it makes your stomach churn.

“What doesn't feel good?” He asks, letting go to inspect the rest of you. 

You relax against the low counter, feeling it hit your tailbone. 

“Did someone hurt you?” He searches your body for marks. “Are you feeling sick? Had too much to drink, baby?”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling like a child answering to their mother. 

“You’re going to have to tell me what it is, then. I can’t read your mind.” He lightly scolds.

There’s a gentleness in the deep vibrato of his voice as he bares the blunt words, looking at you with an expectant gaze.  

You fidget a tad, beginning to pace in a small two-step dance. 

“I just--” You turn away, fidgeting with your fingers. “I feel, ridiculous.” 

You move to grasp your forehead, avoiding your boyfriends gaze. 

“Dressed up in this stupid get up, surrounded by these people who-- who I don’t belong next to, who make me look like a fool for being here…!” 

You fold your arms over your chest defensively, turning away from the man. 

“Did you see the way everyone was looking at me? I looked so stupid, standing next to you! Or even next to them, as if I could convince them that I belong here, next to someone of their own.” You turned to stare at your reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the person who stared back. “I just.. I don’t belong here, with you… with these people… I feel absurd for even trying.” 

You hear your voice shake at the last few words, not realizing you were getting worked up enough to cry. But then there it was, that burning in your nose and the blurriness of tears in your eyes. You felt your face scrunch and tense up, the ugliness of your cries breaking out to make you feel even smaller.

Putting a hand to your mouth and turning away from the mirror, you hoped your boyfriend hadn’t seen or heard the way you appeared ready to sob. 

But a heavy, commanding hand pulled your shoulder back, turning you around with ease as you let your body fall to whatever whims he desired.

Your nose was shoved against Ezra’s chest as he pushed your head against him, wrapping his arms around you. He stroked your hair, pushing it off your sweaty skin. It was almost suffocating, the way he trapped you against him. But it made you feel secure, knowing that he couldn’t see your face full of tears and shame, that you didn’t have to continue to spill your heart out to him. 

“Baby….” He said. It was in such a soft, understanding tone that you didn’t think it came from his lips at first. “How could you ever, ever, compare yourself to these… strangers?” 

You sniffled against his dress shirt, hiding yourself in his chest and expensive cologne, a scent so familiar and potent that it put your body at ease. 

“I mean, you? Versus them? These half drunken idiots who can barely hold themselves up?” Your boyfriend chuckled, shaking slightly against you. “Darling why would you ever want to be like them?”

You wiped your eyes, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“I thought thats what… you wanted. How else am I supposed show up when I meet your friends.” You mumbled. 

Your boyfriend pulls your chin, lifting you to face him.

“I brought you here to meet everyone because I wanted them to meet you, not whatever persona the rest of the assholes here portray.” 

You looked away, letting his words sink in. 

“Besides, they were only looking at you because you were the most captivating thing in that room,”  He ran his pointer finger over your bottom lip, the cold of his rings hitting the bitten skin. 

“The most,” He cut himself off with a kiss to your neck. “Stunning,” kiss, ” “kind,” another kiss, “and amazing thing in that room. They were just how awestruck I was when I first saw you.” 

He softened as he saw you squeeze your lips shut, preventing a smile from escaping. 

 “Though I won’t let them make the same moves on you like I did.” He joked, laughing as he saw you roll your eyes. 

Brushing his thumb on your cheek, Ezra took away the remnants of tears. A pit of shame grew in your stomach when you saw him frown at your saddened state. 

“But listen,” He bent closer to your face, shifting his warm hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re the best thing to happen to me, hands down. And I wouldn’t trade any of the bastards in here for you, so enough self-loathing.” 

Your cheeks squish as he pressed his palms against them, forcing your head to nod as you went limp. 

“Good.” He smiled, grinning at how you seemed to wait for his next response.

You let him let go, even though you wanted to stay in that position of safety for longer.

He ruffled your hair back in place, fixing the few scraggled strands that he could. Ezra talked while fetching a paper towel to clean the goo beneath your eyes, originally from your tears.

“I mean, honestly, do you think I wouldn’t kill the bastards in here if they tried to look at you wrong? Come on, no way I would let that slide.” 

You smiled at hearing that, thinking he was just being dramatic. 

Paper towel in hand, Ezra lifted you up from the ground slightly. He put you down on the sink counter, keeping his hands planted to the sides of your abdomen. 

Letting out a low laugh, he continues to wipe away at your eyes. His demeanor shifted to be quieter; something you aren't used to from your blab of a boyfriend. 

Dark hair covers to his eyelids, sticking to his skin as the heat from the bathroom has begun to her to him.

The humming of the bathroom fan is all that fills the room for a few moments, Ezra’s concentration on your eyes leaving you both quiet. Though, you could tell he still had something he wanted to say.

"I mean, you don't understand how many times I've had the urge to mutilate the men in this club for staring at you, just from tonight alone" he licked his lips, curling his unmoving hand beside you. He seemed to be… nervous. "I'd pull their teeth out first, working my way down. Tearing each fingernail off one by one, pulling the veins from their wrists… I'd remove anything they have to witness you with."

He looked back up at you, staring within your eyes as if he was lost in them, as if he was looking inside of you. Despite his tender look that seemed to crave your cooperation, that should have made you blush– your smile fell. The warmth once spreading in your chest was now going cold, sinking to your stomach. 

"You captivated the whole room, and I can't stand it…" he didn't seem to notice your fallen expression, or the shaking in your hands on the counter. "I hate the way they can hear your laugh, sit beside you and feel your warmth… how you can smile at them and let them make you feel as if you aren't the best thing to ever walk into this club. I hate it so fucking much."

Your boyfriend trailed his finger down the sequins on your clothes, trying to hold himself back from getting too close. 

You shifted uncomfortably as your he leaned up close to your mouth, just far away enough to where he couldn't indulge in how badly he wanted to kiss you. There was this suffocating desire inside his chest to paint his claim violently upon your body in this bathroom right now, to let you walk put of this club with everyone staring at the little pieces of him only, forcing them all to know who you really belong to. 

You didn't know what to say to his confession…. Should you thank him? Run away? Beg him to go to therapy? 

Instead you stayed quiet, searching for the right words to not tick him off, now that you knew what he was potentially…. Capable of. 

"They want to hurt you, to use you and then throw you away like some brainless sex doll. They only have bad intentions, baby."

Your boyfriend slid down to your knees, crouching down as you sat on the counter above him. He pulled your left leg toward him gently, kissing up from your ankle, to your shin, to your knee. 

"But i'll take care of you, I won't let you be tricked.."He looks up at you with fluttering lashes, raising your leg ever so slightly to press his lips against your inner thigh. 

"You know how much I adore you… right?"

 Your skimpy clothes gave him even more access than you felt comfortable with, seeing the adoration pulsate within his eyes and the desperation in his hands.

"Of course," you reply, hesitantly bringing a hand up to his cheek, hoping he wasn't thinking of murdering you too in this bathroom. 

 His warm, damp hands molded the flesh of your bare thighs in his fingers, pushing in between the tight layer of where your tiny shorts and your skin meet, trying to dig beneath them. He wanted to hold all of you, to keep you in his arms so you couldn't even think of leaving, of running to someone else.

"You know that I'd never hurt you… that I only want what's best for you… that I'd kill for you--…" he mumbles the last bit, pressing your hand deeper against his cheek as he looks up from below at you, giving a cheeky grin. 

You nod your head, hoping his homicidal thoughts were just that-- thoughts.

He was quick to fool you again with that sweet, lovely smile that seemed to bask in your presence, the smile that made you feel like the most desirable person in the world. No matter how many threats he gave out they never seemed to deter the fact that his soft, adoring expression made you feel like he'd choose you in a room full of thousands. 

Your small assurance gave him the confidence to press his head further between your legs, running kisses back up from your knee to your thigh. 

He trailed up your skin, kisses growing hungry. Pulling your sequined shorts, your boyfriend buried his head between your thighs– trying to get where he knows he'll have full control over you. 

"Not here," you said breathlessly and bewildered, trying to push away his head. "We can't do that here–!"

His hair was soft, even with the thin spread of gel that kept it in place as you ran your hands down to his neck. Tugging at tufts of his hair and using your legs to push him away, you found little to nothing dispirited him. 

"Just let me show how much I love you..."

Each time you tried to use your knee to push him, Ezra pushed it against the sink countertop with the heavy weight of his hand. He looked up at you with a sick grin that meant: “just try and beat me.” A part of you felt panicked, not just from the compromising position-- but from how insistent he was. Like he was trying to prove something to you.

It wasn't until the echo of the bathroom door swinging open and hitting the wall, did he lift his head. His eyes went wide, jaw clenching as he whipped around to look. The fearful expression would've been funny if you weren't just as scared. 

You quickly jumped off the counter and pulled your shorts back into position, watching to see someone peak around from the corner. But the sounds of drunken laughter faded away, and no one made themselves apparent.

You and Ezra sighed simultaneously, the heat from the stuffy bathroom showing to have been too much for the both of you. 

He reached for your hand, pulling you towards him. Ezra goes quiet, and you keep your gaze to the ground. He had shown sides of himself tonight that you weren’t exactly sure how to process. 

“Lets just go home, okay?” Ezra says after a few moments, whispering with a grin.“I wanna finish what we started.”

What were you to say? You stuttered, thinking to protest, to run away or maybe even admit how afraid you were. 

But with a kiss to your sweaty forehead, your boyfriend slung his arm over your shoulder and began leading you to the exit of the bathroom. 

Your feet had moved on your own, your mouth still lingering to form words. As Ezra opened the door, the stench of alcohol and cheap perfume hit you once again.

[brewed-pangolin]

Imagine what a menace Soap would be with these

Challenged Territory

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, Soap getting all territorial over silly bruises, cue the Scottish bear

Synopsis: You play a round of rapid fire which ends with a quick session. But those bruises forming ignite the primal side of Soap and he takes it upon himself to mark you as his own

Okay. Call me crazy but I'm for damn sure Soap MacTavish puts play dates down on the calendar.

Just like date nights, movie nights, and camping weekends. Play dates are a must to keep the relationship fresh and full of vigor, especially when he's gone for extended periods of time.

And these little blasters are right up his alley.

But he'd want a fair fight, so expect to be taken to the range a few times to perfect that aim and steady your hand.

Once he's satisfied with your skill level, all hell breaks lose and he ain't holding back.

Your only indication that he's put the game into play will be your blaster on your bedside table. With him already staking out his perfect sniping position as you mentally prepare for the fire fight about to ensue.

And it always ends the same way. Both naked, breathless, and entangled on the living room floor as you tally up who got the most shots to the ass.

And those circular bruises growing on your flesh are nothing compared to the reddened handprint plastered on your left butt cheek.

--

"You can't count-, those slaps-, as hits, Soap," you muttered. A groggy whimper echoing off your tongue.

"Haud yer wheesht, lass. Beat ya by a solid 20. Easily"

"Pfft. 20's pushing it, trigger man."

"Doubt it. Cannae miss hittin' tha sweet ass a'yers."

You shoved your elbow into the center of his chest with a boisterous laugh, forcing a rumbling groan from his throat as he turned you onto your back and caged you beneath his muscular and gel tattered form.

"Ya wanna go 'nother round?" He asked with an excited growl. Eyes brimming in cerulean conquest as a curling smile formed on his kiss ravaged lips.

"Why? You clearly already beat me."

"Wasn't talkin' bout the game, bonnie," he purred lowly. His Scottish brogue thick as molasses as he pressed the bulbous tip of his cock against your wet and silken entrance.

"Feelin' a bit outdone by yer bruises. Need ta add some a'me own. Gotta-," he halted with a groan. Voice catching in his throat as he pushed between your folds and gradually pumped his hardened length into the welcoming walls of your cunt.

You rolled your eyes with a muffled moan, arching your back off the floor to assist in his entry as he glacially thrusted himself until fully seated.

"Johnny," you whimpered. Mouth open with a silent moan as your greedy walls clenched around him.

"I know, bonnie. Yer always so fuckin' tight fer me, aren't ya?" He growled as he encapsulated his mouth over your lips.

Devouring your moans before pulling away. Grabbing tightly at the flesh of your hips as he flared his chest and moved to sit on his haunches.

"Gonnae fuckin' wreck ya, lass."

The bellow that echoed in his brogue sent a spiraling shiver down your spine. Causing you to pulse around him as he hoisted your legs up and rest over his shoulders.

Clawing your nails along the floor for purchase as he pistoned his hips against your ass in a primal and aggressive thrust.

"Johnny!" You wailed, followed by a breathless gasp. Chest heaving, breasts bouncing as your body undulated with the waves of inertia from his forceful drives.

"Tha's it. Gonnae mark ya. Make ya mine. Make ya scream fer me."

Your body went into overdrive as he continually pistoned his cock into your aching cunt. Mind going nearly blank except for one thought that rolled around behind your eyes.

Soap saw those circular marks as a challenge, even if they were done so by his own hand. His need to mark you, claim you as his own pushed him into his primal state as he gripped with measured force into the supple flesh of your thighs.

And you loved it. The growls emanating from the caverns of his chest. The crazed yet loving glare in his eyes as he marked his territory with every throbbing plunge of his cock.

You'd carry those bruises with pride the next morning as you gazed at your figure in the mirror. The only change you'd make is the location. The bruises you loved. The rug burn, not so much.

Drabbles Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @punishmepunisher @d3athtr4psworld @glitterypirateduck @astraluminaaa @shotmrmiller @jynxmirage @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @simpingoverquestionablemen @thetrashpossum @ghosts-goldendoodle @designateddeadend @foxface013 @queen-ilmaree @haurasha @havoc973 @luismickydees @kkaaaagt

[makeyoumine69]

Painkiller 2

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: You begged Patrick for a good fuck, and who is he to deny it to his sweet little girl?

— CONTAINS: Smut, Dom!Patrick, pet names, degradation (reader is called some names), Daddy kink, dirty talk, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), pregnancy sex/kink, creampie/breeding kink, semi-public sex.

— WORDS: 1.5k

— A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus in posting, I'm still trying to restore some energy, but I hope you enjoy this little piece of text!

— LINKS: [Previous part] [MASTERLIST] [buy me a coffee]💓

"Now you be a good girl and keep those pretty lips of yours quiet." Patrick drawled, his eyes ablaze with wicked intent. He lowered his head, pressing a fierce kiss on the side of your neck.

Trembling, you gasped breathlessly as your inner walls clenched around nothing, yearning for his hot, rock hard flesh to be inside of you.

“Patrick,” you murmured, pulling him closer, your taut nipples were visible through the thin material of your hospital gown. “I… I want you.”

"You needy little slut," Bateman hissed, his eyes fixed on the tantalizing sight of your hardened little peaks, then he leaned down to capture one nipple with his teeth, biting down gently through the fabric, eliciting a muffled whimper from you. "I'm going to fill you up, babydoll," he promised in a dark whisper. "Every fucking inch of you, until you're dripping with me."

With his free hand, Patrick began to fumble with his belt, every nerve on edge with anticipation, his dick aching with desperate need, bulging against the tight confines of his Armani pants.

"Mmhm—Daddy," a muffled moan escaped your lips, your hands clinging desperately to his strong biceps. "I w-want to give you as many children as you want."

Shaking like a leaf, your body desperately longed to be claimed by him again and again, a feeling even stronger than despair — belonging to him was as vital as breathing air.

“Oh, you have no idea what you're in for… Do you, honey?" Bateman taunted, his voice low and possessive.

Patrick couldn't help but groan as the heat of your hands threatened to burn right through the fabric of his expensive shirt.

"Do you really like seeing me pregnant?" You wondered as you sensed his long, thin fingers playing with your tender flesh. "I'm so nervous about gaining so much weight, Daddy." Your voice was tinged with embarrassment as he removed your hospital gown.

"Like?" Patrick rejoined, a devilish chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Damn, dollface, I fucking love seeing you pregnant." His words were infused with raw desire, his gaze sweeping over your swollen form with predatory intensity. The sight of his seed blooming in life within you was a heady combination of possession and power, a tantalizing cocktail that sent his nerves ablaze.

Carefully, you got down on all fours on the hospital bed in front of him, your legs already trembling with sweet anticipation from what about to come. "I need you so much, but please don't hurt the baby."

"Don't worry, darling, Daddy knows just what he's doing." His words hung in the air between you two, possessive and domineering.

Then without further ado, Bateman plunged his throbbing length into your heat, his low groan echoing off the walls of the room. With skilled control, he began to move against your shivering, little form; his grip retaining a firm hold on your hips as they moved to the rhythm of your shared lust. The sensation of your soft inner walls beginning to clench around him, already coaxing gruff moans from his lips. This was where he belonged, buried deep within you, imprinting himself onto every fiber of your being.

"It's so deep… a-awww," you whimpered, and then you had to bite the pillow to suppress all the lewd sounds as you were desperately doing your best to take him in completely. "Daddy, p-please!”

"Oh, sweetness," Patrick grunted in response, pleasure clawing its way up his spine as you tightened around him. Gently, he traced a single manicured thumb in circles around the small of your back, the reminder to be careful tucked safely in the back of his mind. "You like it deep, don't you? Like feeling me fill up your slutty little pussy?"

The potential of being caught only seemed to add an extra dose of adrenaline to your veins, the thrill of it making your hearts practically thud in their cages.

"Now hush," Bateman ordered with a sharp thrust of his hips, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Don't want the good doctors to find out how much of a slut their patient is, do we?" He quipped, his fingers tightening around your hip as he continued his relentless pace; his other hand came down to rub teasing circles around your clit, his aim to drive you as crazy with need as you drove him.

Panting, you leaned on your elbows to minimize the weight on your pregnant bump. The fear of damaging the baby couldn't really let you relax and enjoy the moment of intimacy you were sharing, but you kept quiet, only the sounds of heavy panting and flesh hitting flesh filling the hospital room.

"I w-want you to make me pregnant again, Daddy…" You mewled against the pillow, gripping it as hard as you could from the overwhelming sensation of being so full.

Why was it so hot? To be claimed by his seed, even though you were already pregnant, you had a wicked desire to be bred again and again.

"God, you drive me fucking insane, honey," Patrick groaned as your pussy clamped around his cock once more, truly testing his control. "Give you another one, huh?" He snarled, the sound echoing off the stark white walls of the room. "Fine… a-argh… I’ll spill my fucking seed inside you again…" He growled, losing himself in the fierce desire to mark you in the most intimate way possible.

Nothing was as intoxicating for him as the glazed look in your beautiful eyes, the satisfaction of knowing he would paint your insides with his seed, claiming you as his again and again. Even in a twisted world such as his, this was his greatest conquest, a show of dominance and possession that only spurred his desires further.

As you felt his pounding getting rugged and sloppy, you clung to his hands on your hips, gasping quietly in delight. "Cum for me, Daddy, please, c-cum for me!" Bateman couldn’t hold back it anymore as he spiralled into a blinding crescendo of pleasure, releasing his seed deep within you and keeping you close like a predator trapping its prey. Even though you didn't reach your high yet, you felt elevated by the blissful sensation of his warm liquid filling you from the inside. With a muffled sigh, you turned to look at him, but you couldn't see his face clearly in the darkness, though you knew how smug and arrogant he might be right now, so you decided to continue playing this game, boosting his ego even more.

"Gosh, it feels so good," you purred, spreading your legs wider as your own hand began to work on your feverish, little bud. "But I need you more."

Bateman leaned back, momentarily lost in the obscene picture you painted. "Uh, do you?" He teased, his words laced with thinly veiled lust as he maneuvered himself to his knees, the movement causing ripples in the muscles of his sculpted abs. "You want me to taste you, babe?"

With a smirk, Patrick dove right in, his tongue dipping into you with a harsh swipe as he tasted you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he feasted. The taste of his cum mixed with your own flavor was intoxicating. God, he would never get enough of you.

Whimpering obscenely, you pressed your face against the hospital bed, your insides ready to burn from pleasure as his masterful tongue knew exactly what to do, drawing invisible lines along your delicate petals, forcing you to soak so hard — you could feel your juices running down your inner thighs, but Bateman was immediately cleaning it up with his eager mouth.

"Ah, Daddy," you were so close and yet so embarrassed at the thought of someone outside hearing what the two of you were doing. "Please, please, please! I love you... I love you s-so much!" You almost wept, praying that you wouldn't get caught and that he wouldn't punish you for not being a good, obedient girl like he wanted you to be.

"You sound so pretty when you call me Daddy, sweetheart," Patrick moaned against your soft flesh, his voice a saccharine poison dripping into your ears. His tongue slid back up your slit, slower this time, the flat of it pressing against your bundle of nerves with agonizing restraint. "I'm not done with you yet." He warned, his tone foreboding as he dived back between your thighs with renewed energy, his tongue darting in and out of you in rhythmic motions.

"I'm cumming, D-Daddy, a-aww, I'm cumming," a quivering yelp escaped your half-open lips as you clutched the sheets of the hospital bed, your legs shaking in his tight grip. "Pat-Patrick!"

Paralyzed, you forgot how to breathe as your inner muscles began to spasm around his tongue, the sensation was so intense, so overwhelming — the knowledge that you belonged to this man completely and irrevocably was as astonishing as rain in the dry desert. After all, you wanted to carry as many children as he wanted, and the idea of being a tradwife for him didn't seem strange to you anymore.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[sentientgolfball]

I <3 STUPID MESSY EARTH GHOULS

i dont know why this invoked something in me but here have 700 words of Biggs (Earth) eating out Pebble

For character context: My Pebble is transmasc and Biggs is mute

Pebble didn’t know what time it was. Was it always so dark in here? Have they really been at this for so long? He doesn’t care even if it has been hours. He doesn’t have a single thought to spare. Biggs has taken everything from him with his stupid, skillful tongue. Another painfully slow lick over his little dick makes him groan. 

He loves it when Biggs gets like this. All soft and territorial at the same time. Pebble also loves to push his luck. He likes to think one day he’ll get the big guy to snap and pound him into the mattress. He tried his luck earlier at dinner, wearing an oversized shirt he snatched from Ivy to show off the fresh bruises and bites. Anyone with working eyes would know they were from Alpha, the size of the fang indent is enough. But it is also helped that Pebble insisted on asking Alpha if he ever got his chores finished. Pebble knows Biggs hates how rough Alpha treats him and the though alone is enough to get heat to pool is his stomach. He wanted to see if tonight would be the night he snapped. 

Unfortunately for him, it was not to be. Though, he can’t complain about the alternative. Biggs had come up behind him when he was putting his dishes in the sink, taking Pebble’s hand and giving it two squeezes. I want your attention. Pebble had turned to look at him for maybe a second before he darted off to his room, dragging Pebble with him. Biggs had undressed him slowly, kissing over every scale and scars. Every mark left by Alpha. He didn’t even bother with taking his own clothes off before guiding Pebble back towards the bed. Time became a blur the moment his body touched the mattress. 

He settled between Pebble’s legs and hasn’t moved since. He pressed kisses all over his thighs before he licked a long stripe over his cunt with the flat of his tongue. He swirled the forked tip around his hole before dipping inside. Tasting just to taste. This is for Biggs as much as it is Pebble. He had done that for a while, letting his long, thick tongue prod against every soft spot inside of him. Until slick was dripping down his chin. 

Now he has his lips wrapped around Pebble’s clit, giving it a slow lick or a gentle suck just to keep him hard. Biggs is content with just holding him in his mouth. He loves to feel him twitch, loves the way he drools whenever he gets even a taste of stimulation. 

“Fuck. Will you just suck me off…please?” Pebble cranes his neck to look at him. 

Who is he to deny him? He’s here to show him how much he is loved. How nice it can be when someone is gentle with you. He swipes his tongue over the plump little bundle of nerves and the noise Pebble makes can only be described as wounded. Biggs presses his hips into the mattress when he throbs against his lips. 

“Yeah just like that keep doing that oh shit–” Pebble keens when he feels two thick finger prodding at his slick entrance.

Biggs slides them in with ease. He’s already nice and wet and open from cumming when he first got his mouth on him. He pets against Pebble’s upper wall gently, searching for the spot that will surely make his eyes cross. His cock kicks where its trapped against the mattress with the sound Pebble makes when he finds it. He settles into a rhythm, alternating sucking on his little dick and curling his fingers. Biggs knows he close with the way he begins to rock against him, thighs shaking around his head. 

“Keep doing that yeah fuck let me cum in your mouth please don’t wanna waste it,’ he babbles as Biggs continues his steady pace. 

His words melt into little high pitched uh uh uh’s with every stroke. It doesn’t take much longer before Pebble is arching off the mattress, claws tearing at the sheets. His ears ring with the force of his orgasm and it takes him a moment to reailze he can feel wetness spreading around him, dripping down his ass. Biggs growls low in his throat when the taste of Pebble’s squirt hits his tongue. 

He doesn’t pull away even as Pebble shakes.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Mechanic!Draken x Cheater!Reader

♡ NSFW, Fem Reader, Reader has a bf but he's stupid, Draken owns Shinichiro's old bike shop and has also started working on cars, cheating obviously, pet names, praise + slight degradation towards the end, mention of breeding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!) & creampie ♡

note: I wrote this at 1 am alongside the breeding headcanons I posted because I couldn't sleep plus I'm on my period and I'm feral for fictional men rn

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

"Be back soon babe! Going to the mechanic to get the car checked out." Is what you said to your boyfriend before you left out. Not like he cared though, he didn't even bother to look up from his phone to say goodbye. He wouldn't know what was going on behind his back even if he wanted to. It's the little things that really give away what you're up to. The way you dress a little nicer, the bright smile painted on your face, the pep in your step on the way out the door. That's just the things he could see, but doesn't notice. He has no clue about the things that go on behind closed doors. The subtle glances, the touchiness, the suggestive conversations. Who would've guessed that you'd be cheating on him with the mechanic he goes to?

It started around a month ago, that was when you first went with your boyfriend to a small motorcycle shop that just so happened to work on cars too. That was also when you met him. Ryuguji Ken, better known as Draken. He was tall, muscular, handsome, charismatic, and a very skilled mechanic. At first you were slightly intimidated by his stature, but you could tell he was kind hearted. Obviously not kind hearted enough to not fuck his customer's girlfriend though.

The table in the backroom of the shop rocked back and forth as Draken thrusted into your soaked pussy. Hands holding onto your shoulders and strings of curses and praises falling from his lips.

"You feel so good princess, gripping me so fucking tight~"

This was a weekly occurrence. You'd leave your apartment or job and head straight to the bike shop. You'd enter and head right to the backroom, that's where he always is, waiting just for you. He'd bend you over a table, put you up against the wall, or sit on a chair and have you ride him til you creamed all over him.

He liked to take note of everything that was happening in the moment. The little whimpers you produced when he hit a certain spot, the way your nails clawed at the edge of the table, the lewd noises your pussy made when he slammed his dick into you. But the slight bulge he felt when he put one of his hands on your tummy was the tipping point for him, he wanted, no actually he needed to fill your tight cunt with his cum.

"I'm so close baby, is it okay if I fill you up pretty girl?"

All you could do was whine in agreement, not able to form a single word as his thick cock rearranged your guts. He moved his hands to your waist, roughly squeezing your sides as he picked up his pace, ramming into you as deeply as possible. Your incoherent whimpers turned into loud moans of his name as he slid one of his hands between your legs to play with your clit. He knew you were close, he could feel your legs shaking and your pussy clenching around him.

"I fuck you so much better than he does, don't I? If you were mine, I'd be breeding your pretty little pussy everyday. You'd like that wouldn't you, you filthy little cheater?"

You tried to answer him, but your sentences came out all jumbled up. Draken could make out one word in particular though: please. And who was he to deny you the right to be filled to the brim? He continued to fuck you, even after you had already came. His cock overstimulating your messy pussy as he came inside you, leaving you warm and satisfied. As he pulled out he leaned down to kiss you on your shoulder blade.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up princess."

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Tagging @arlerts-angel and @i-literally-cant-with-this

[sweetlikehny-archived]

Listen, I don't normally make request or ask stuff; I usually just somehow find it but this is something I haven't found nor have the skill to write soo....

I see you have nothing on Diavolo and will do monsterfucking..... How would you feel if I suggested, monsterfucking & Diavolo?

You don't have to if you don't want, tbh. I just like your writing style; so I wanted to ask you.

~🥑

Kink prompt ask game!

Aw thank you! <33 I’m still fairly new to writing NSFW so I appreciate it 🥹 and YES YOU READ MY MIND WITH THIS SCENARIO‼️‼️

CW: NSFW (minors dni), AFAB reader, (mentions of pussy and clit- but no pronouns mentioned), language, monsterfucking, slight size kink if you squint

You should have been intimidated at his size, but Diavolo has always a gentle lover, and you never felt that he would hurt you. Even at all of the times you two would have sex, he always made sure to be careful, asking if you were okay and making sure you were never uncomfortable.

But it was just something so different whenever he’s in his demon form.

Maybe it’s because you’ve only seen it a handful of times- but each time you did, you felt yourself growing hot and your pussy throbbing. He just oozed so much power in that form, so much dominance, that it had you rubbing your thighs together.

So when you asked him to have sex in his demon form, he was a little hesitant to go through with it- he already towers over you now and has to restrain himself from using all of his strength, what if he accidentally hurts you?

But you reassure your trust in him, telling him that you know he would never hurt you.

Maybe that was the little push he needed.

Because you soon found yourself moaning as Diavolo thrusted his thick cock inside you.

Your mind was hazy as he folded you in half, going even deeper as you continued to cry out. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought when you felt his clawed fingers rub at your clit.

“P-please Di-ah! Please-“ you babbled on, mind going blank as Diavolo bent down to kiss you, swallowing your moans. God, he felt so big inside you, your breath catching with every thrust. You wondered if his girth was thicker in this form. You were seeing stars especially if he kept hitting that one spot-

Diavolo broke apart from your lips, chuckling at your dazed expression. He’s seen your face twisted in pleasure many times before, but seeing you with drool trailing down your chin and your eyes clouded with pure bliss, it only made him want to take you more. To claim you, mark you as his, corrupt you-

“Look at how well you’re taking me.” He pressed his hand down on your stomach, and you practically sobbed when you saw the bulge. Diavolo hissed when he felt your warm walls clench around him, but it didn’t stop his hips from slamming into you. “You’re doing so well MC.” And with how tight you’re squeezing him, you must be getting close.

“Ple-please Diavolo!”

“Please what?” His hips snapped against yours, “Tell me what you want.” He started slowing down his movements, and you whined in protest, wiggling your hips.

“I wanna cum Dia! Please letmecum-“

You were gripping the bedsheets when your trembling hands grabbed at his curled horns to pull him closer- and he snarled, thrusting harder as his wings flared behind him.

It was as if a switch flipped inside him, because he lifted you up and you took his entire length in a single drop, a cry tearing from your throat as you finally came.

But even through your toe-curling orgasm, Diavolo didn’t stop thrusting, fucking you to chase his own pleasure. Your walls wouldn’t stop clenching around him, and he growled out curses as your eyes rolled up, body trembling from overstimulation. Your eyes teared up and you felt your mixed fluids coating your thighs- but there was no sign of him slowing down.

Then you felt him grow inside you- his girth becoming even thicker than before, and you found yourself face down on the bed as he never lost his momentum.

Your mind was completely broken, mouth open in a silent scream as you felt another orgasm approaching, the warm coil inside growing hotter and hotter, threatening to snap at any second. You felt all of him so clearly, the delicate ridges that decorated his cock giving you indescribable amounts of pleasure.

And he must have been close as well, because he went faster, leaving you breathless. Your words slurred together, but Diavolo didn’t miss a moment in torturing teasing you. “I can’t understand what you’re asking me MC- you need to ask me-“, another hard thrust shook you to your core. “-properly.”

“I-I want-“

“To what?” He practically snarled in your ear, hips snapping harder and cock reaching even deeper.

“I want to cum Diavolo!”

“Then cum with me MC.”

With his words, a wail escaped you as his hips finally stuttered and a growl left his lips. You felt something hot shoot inside you, his cum filling you quickly and to the brim. You body jolted with aftershocks as he slowly moved his hips with each spurt, biting down on your shoulder and softly kissing it afterwards.

When Diavolo did pull his cock out, the ridges had you shuddering against him, whining when you felt his cum spilling out all at once. It wouldn’t stop pouring out of you, and you hissed when you felt Diavolo push his thick fingers inside of your pussy.

“Ah, we can’t have you making a mess.” And you moaned when you started to gently finger you, taking them out and pushing them against your open lips. You licked them clean as you gazed into his narrowed, golden eyes. You felt yourself growing wet all over again, ready to take his thick cock inside of you once more.

“Apologies in advance, my love. I’m not able to control myself anymore.”

You definitely won’t be walk straight tomorrow- or the next few days from the way his curved cock twitched against his navel.

[yesihaveaobsession]

Let Me Help You

SPOILER FOR LAST EPISODE OF 'HAZBIN HOTEL'

Alastor x female!huntress reader

Summary: The reader (you) are one of those who defeated the apocalypse back on Earth, Charlie asks you to go down to help with the Extermination, but in the end, you end up helping Alastor patch up after he's weak.

A/N- this was a small request of the huntress! reader being a part of Extermination Day, but I thought y'all would want wounded Al and one on one with him (I would), ALSO sorry this took like a million year to put out I was moving :).

Requested by @redamancyardor (hope you like!)

SPOILER FOR LAST EPISODE OF 'HAZBIN HOTEL'

You were a huntress who had stopped the Apocalypse back on Earth. Your well-known presence led to Princess Charlie asking you to come down to the Pride Ring to help with Extermination Day. Knowing she was stressed about it, you decided to help, and that's where you are now.

Before you knew it, it was over. Although Adam was gone, the hotel was in shambles, and the structure was crushed. Charlie's precious hotel was demolished. You were covered in dirt and blood, wiping the sweat off your forehead, and looking around to see Charlie's heart was crushed. That's when you realized that Alastor was missing.

The huntress skills you possessed helped you maneuver through the rubble of the once-standing hotel. Taking a second to catch your breath, you weren't in the best of shape at that very moment. You caught sight of the familiar silhouette of Alastor's radio tower, with splotches of a blood trail leading to the trapdoor of the only thing still standing. Pushing it open, you saw Alastor alive.

His usually immaculate suit was torn, blood trickled from a wound, and he looked disheveled. Despite all of that, a smile haunted his face, even if it wanted to leave. He was leaning on the control panel, and you saw his shoulders rise and fall, his claws gripping and clawing through the panel. The ends of his hair were as sharp as knives. His usual manic glee was gone. The Alastor you knew was gone.

"Alastor?" you whispered, mainly to yourself but loud enough for him to hear. He turned around to face you. You were already in the tower completely, and the trap door was closed beneath you, but you dared to take a step back as the Radio Demon took a step towards you. His red eyes glowed in the dim red lighting of Pride Ring's sky.

"What a delightful surprise," he mused with his radio filter off. He tried taking another step, but he clutched his chest where a big gash was and bent over, closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows. You wasted no time to drop your angel blade that you had possessed; the huntress instincts kicked in. He was really weak.

"You're hurt," you said, stepping closer to examine his injuries, mainly the large gash that was hard to miss, even from a mile away.

"Nonsense," he replied, waving a hand dismissively. "It's just a scratch."

You furrowed your eyebrows and gave him a once-over, concerned for his well-being. You then gave him a stern look. "Let me patch you up."

"I assure you I am able to—" You cut him off.

"Let me help you," you spoke.

Before he could argue more, you draped his long arm over your shoulder and gently had Alastor lean against the wall of his tower. He was breathing heavily. His grin remained, but you could see the pain in his eyes. "Easy now, don't rush it," you said calmly. Kneeling to his level and pulling out a mini first aid kit you had in your pocket, you knew it wasn't going to be much help, but it might do until Alastor was less weak.

He tried to insist he was fine once again, but you silenced him with a glare. You got up and looked around his radio tower, obviously searching for something specific. "What is it, my dear?" he asked breathlessly as the cold air hit his wound.

"You got any hard liquor?" you asked, out of the ordinary. It surprised him, but he loosely pointed to a mini cabinet on one end of the room. You nodded and retrieved a rich whiskey, feeling a bit bad about how you were going to use it, but you had no other choice. You made your way back over to him, knelt down again, and uncapped the whiskey. Slowly pushing his torn suit jacket off as gently as possible to avoid hurting him, he still winced, and you whispered an apology.

Looking him straight in the eyes, you said, "This is going to sting for a few seconds, brace yourself." He let out a small nod and shifted. You gently poured some of the hard liquor onto the gash to clean out the bacteria in the open wound. You had learned this the hard way after a rough werewolf hunt, but it worked. Alastor hissed through his teeth, and his breathing grew heavier as the whiskey did its thing.

You decided to stitch him up because he wasn't healed yet. He watched with a mixture of amusement and admiration. "You know, you're quite the enigma," he remarked as you worked. "A fierce huntress with a healer's touch."

You looked up at him, his eyes meeting yours directly. His eyes were hooded, and he still had a strained smile. You smiled at him, "Yeah, well, I learned this the hard way," you said, then with a small smile, you shrugged teasingly. "Someone has to keep you in one piece." You looked back down at your task, preparing to bandage him, but he pushed your hand away. His hand glowed with his green voodoo color, and he was able to heal himself. You watched in amazement. You noticed that you were healed too. Lifting up your shirt to see you had not a scratch or bruise on you, you then lowered it back down and looked into his eyes again.

"And for that, I am eternally grateful," he smiled. As you stepped back, you felt a sense of satisfaction. Despite the chaos of Extermination Day, you had managed to protect your friends and keep Alastor safe. The fight was far from over, but you knew that with allies like him, you could face whatever Hell threw your way.

[auxiliuno]

Hallo can i please ask for nsfw könig x f!reader where he doesn't fit her iykwim 🫣 and they both get worried abt disappointing each other at first but they end up laughing at their struggle? They eventually get it in and have a happy ending lmaooo

Thank you! <3

König being too big for f!reader

NSFW

Fluff, implied size difference, implied cock warming, vaginal sex, p in v penetration, implied fingering, praise

Minors DNI

It was your first time with König despite knowing each other for a few years, after joining the military

He was a mountain of a man, and often mistaken as being rough and mean

Though you knew better, you were one of the only few that showed kindness to him and accepted him for who he is

You had striked up a conversation with him when you saw him sitting alone after training, sharpening his blade

That's how the friendship (and later relationship) blossomed

Though you had to confess first because poor boy didn't want you to think he's weird or ruin his friendship with you (ToT)

After a few months of dating, both of you decided to take the relationship a step further ≡３≡３≡３

"Are you sure you want to do this, maus?" The giant of a man asked gently. Nodding, you tenderly cup his face as he leans into your touch; "I'm sure, König." Something in his eyes shifted; causing a sudden feeling of primal need heating up in your core. "Please König, I need you now. " Feeling his pants tighten at the sight of you begging for him, he palmed his bulge through his pants while the other found his way under your panties. Gasping loudly, you claw at his skilled hands and beg for more. "Don't tease me anymore, please!"I want you now.". You were already teary-eyed and over the edge from all the stimulation. König just sighs and looks into your eyes. "I'm just preparing you for what will be coming next, schatz."

What did he mean by that, you thought? "Wait- König, what do you mean by tha-". In a sudden and swift movement of his hands, he unbelts his pants and lets his underwear fall to the floor, revealing his already hard and intimidating length. You were at a loss for words, staring wide-eyed, opened mouthed, gaping at him. Seeing you look at him like that made him kind of shy yet proud of the same time. "Is something the matter y/n?" He asked as he cocks his head a bit to the side. "Is something the matter?" "Of course, some things the matter König! How do you think that you will fit???" You were panicking a bit now, never in your life had you seen someone quite as big as him. Standing at 6 feet tall, he certainly did not disappoint in what's inside his pants. 7 inches long, quite girthy while leaning to the left, his bulging tip was already red and swollen, leaking white, pearly, pre-cum. "We could always stop here y/n, you know I would never make you do something you are uncomfortable with." König was nervous now. He didn't want you to think that he would force you to do anything with him. Never in his life would he ever subject you, his liebling, to something like that.

Preparing yourself, you suck in a breath. "It's not that I don't want to König, it's just that I've never taken anyone quite as big as you....I want you so bad, but I'm just afraid to let you down if I'm not able to take you." You say sheepishly. Hearing your response, however, made him a bit more confident about what he will be giving to you tonight. "Don't worry, my liebling, as I said, I already prepared you earlier, and we can stop anytime if you can't take it anymore. I love you for you, no matter if you can take me or not." He smiled that crooked, boyish smile that never failed to make your heart flutter. You nod, a bit more confident now as you motion for him to come to you. He steps forward, large stature dwarfing you as his arms wrap around you gently. "Remember to use our safe word if you wish to stop liebling." He whispers.

Positioning himself at your entrance, he gently slides in, inch by inch while you feel the stretch in your walls. Gasping a bit, he falters and looks into your eyes for any sign of stopping. You meet his eyes and give him a weak smile and nod, urging him on. "God, you feel so good liebling, such a good little maus for me." Hearing him speak to you in such a loving way made your stomach flutter and heart warm. You wrap your arms around him tighter as he pushes the last of himself in you. You could feel him bulging through your stomach. Your face starts to heat up, "uhm, honey, I think we made it, but look at my stomach....". He looks down, and his eyes widen he sees the bulge. "Oh mein gott! I didn't know I was that big to you, maus. " You slap him playfully on his arm. "You have too much of an ego right now." "Well, what can I say? My liebling is taking me so good, and she loves me the way I am. How could I not have an ego? " He smiles so genuinely and happy to you, you couldn't help but smile back. "Yes, so, can we stay like this a bit longer? It feels kind of good." You had to admit, feeling his overwhelming stretch and bulge in your pussy felt good even if it was a little painful. "Of course, schatz, though I can't promise I'll be able to hold myself back any longer." His arms tighten a bit more possessively around you. "Well, then, Mr.Impatient, I give you permission to start moving" You giggled at him, feeling so giddy and happy. "You don't have to tell me twice, my maus."

It's safe to say that your first time with König went just as good as any other first times would go

Sometimes, you both still laugh at it when you guys think back to it

It wasn't perfect, but it was the most memorable <3

Thank you for requesting something from me! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I'm sorry I kind of got off track with the story, I know I should've wrote more headcanons 😭😭😭 I hope you enjoy it!

Any recommendations or feedback is welcome 💗

Have a nice day! 💐

[deaths-presence]

Two of a Kind || Dazai x Reader Part 4: Woven Threads

Story Summary: The search for your brother has led you into conflict between the Armed Detective Agency of Yokohama and the Guild. Fitzgerald keeps you involuntarily, that is until you finally find your chance of escape. Will you find strength within the ADA, or will you only become more astray? Word Count: 2.2k Characters Featured: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Atsushi Nakajima, Lucy Montgomery Warnings: afab!reader, slowburn, plot heavy to build up romance, very tiny small mention of Atsushi's abuse, lmk if I happened to miss anything please! Tag List: @decaf-nosebleed @isa-ghost @xakumi @bunchofdoodlesinspace A/N: If you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to let me know! Psssst, guess who's finally showing up next chapter now that we're done building the beginning plot? :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Time was a blur as you ran. Your lungs were on fire and your feet slapped against the hard pavement in a steady rhythm. You ignored the curious stares that followed you, and you attempted to stay close to the docks. You didn’t know where to go. You were in an unfamiliar city in a foreign country. You had nobody to rely on, and every thought swarming through your head about the Guild and the Port Mafia was only creating more anxiety. You had to leave, and you didn’t know how. You wish you had just found Roberte already. There was no calling for help unless you went through the Guild, and you did not want to resort to crawling back into Fitzgerald’s clutches. Your freedom was right in front of you, and you were going to steal it back.

You were forced to catch your breath, the air in your chest circulating in and out in desperate wheezes as you leaned against the nearest wall. You doubled over and closed your eyes as you focused on taking a slow, deep inhale and letting it out slowly. You repeated this several times, and not only did it help with feeling like you were no longer suffocating, but also helped in regaining awareness of your situation.

The relaxing silence was interrupted with a small commotion that sounded close. You instinctively made yourself small and proceeded with silent footsteps to investigate. The voice inside your head screamed at you to keep running and find a ship that was heading back to America, but your curiosity was winning.

As you turned one of the corners, you gasped before slapping a hand over your mouth to keep quiet. You silently prayed while you hid yourself behind the corner of the building again, hoping that Fitzgerald did not spot you. With no footsteps hurrying toward you, you gave a sigh of relief and cautiously allowed yourself to evaluate the scene.

Your eyes were stuck on one individual, and it wasn’t Fitzgerald. Despite your captor and Melville being present, the boy with white choppy hair that you thought dead was standing right before your eyes. He was accompanied by a small girl in a red kimono, her black hair pulled into two twin-tails. You remember seeing a glimpse of her when you had landed with Hawthorne and the others, but she had seemingly run off while no one noticed.

The growing burning sensation in your chest was not from lack of oxygen this time, and it was with surprise that you recognized it as anger. You noticed that the boy was already disheveled and bleeding, whether it was by Fitzgerald’s hands or not, it didn’t matter. You decided not to make the same mistake again.

A brave step out was met with the sight of the boy’s hand turning into the claws of a tiger, but before he could attack the two Guild members, a bullet shot across and met with his head to render him unconscious. The girl had started to reveal her short sword before a bullet contacted her hand, leaving it instantaneously bleeding and bruised red. You realized with horror just who was shooting these bullets. Though they were made of rubber, only one person could be so skilled.

The knowing laugh made you nauseated, your eyes finally looking at Fitzgerald as he smiled at you. Your freedom was a sick joke. You were never unshackled, and what Fitzgerald said next only confirmed it.

“Miss Louisa’s strategies are always so perfect.”

Your dreadful world turned black after you heard the next and final shot.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Waking up was a chore for once. The adrenaline in your body had finally worn off, and the soreness in your muscles made you want to cry out pathetically. You nearly sobbed for another reason. Your surroundings were all too familiar. You were back on the Moby Dick; in the very same room you were previously using. The frustrated scream that was torn from your chest shocked you, but you couldn’t stop it. It felt like minutes before it finally cut off with choppy breath, slamming your fist against one of the walls. You would never escape.

You stood up carefully and shuffled over to the nearest corner, hugging your knees to your chest and hiding your face. Later, the door opened and the voice of a boy yelling to be let go entered your ears. You were startled enough to finally look up when he attempted to hit the walls and look out the compact window. At the same time, he noticed you. It was the tiger boy.

“I have to get out of here. Yokohama is in danger,” he said weakly, realizing his defeat being encased in the room; just as you already had for months. You shook your head quietly at him, and it pained you to see him look forlorn and broken.

“I’m afraid that this aircraft is meant to keep us inside,” you murmured in a horrible attempt at comfort. “It is good to at least see you alive, minus the circumstances.”

It was quiet for a long moment, and you nearly assumed he wouldn’t remember you before you felt a presence beside you. Your eyes flickered to the left of where you were sitting to see him joined with you on the floor. This close, you saw more details of him. Whoever had cut his bangs must have been scared by something while they had the scissors in their hands. Out of all the hair that was white, there was one strip of it that was black. His eyes still reminded you of the late summer sunsets, warm and innocent as they watched you.

“I’m Atsushi,” he introduced himself with a gentle smile. Such a warm welcome nearly brought tears to your eyes, and you looked away before he could see. You saw the way his smile began to fade at your reaction, but you offered your own name quietly and the smile returned.

“I’ve never wanted to hurt people,” you began to explain. “I simply ended up in the wrong hands, and now I am paying the price for my own trusting nature. I haven’t had free will for months. I’ve been forced to follow and stay silent unless spoken to. It’s safer that way. I came here to reunite with my brother, but instead I am finding myself a bird in a luxurious cage and my ability to be used until I am disposed of.”

Atsushi’s sympathetic expression lifted a weight off your shoulders. For the first time in a long while, you felt heard and seen by someone who felt more like a friend than a superior. The words you had spoken were probably the most you had heard from yourself in several weeks, and it certainly made you emotional. You felt on the verge of finally breaking, but you wouldn’t leave Atsushi to deal with that uncomfortable situation. You pushed back the threat of tears pricking at your eyes and focused on him.

“I didn’t even know you were the weretiger Lord Francis was looking for,” you mentioned with a clear grimace. “That’s how uninvolved I am. I have only heard mentions of you in passing between other Guild members, and I always wondered what was so special that he placed a bounty on your head. I was the one that hesitated to hurt you in that fight by the fountain; the one with the water ability. I can take on other appearances, and with them their abilities if the person harbors one.”

Something in your words made Atsushi frown, and for a moment you were terrified that you had offended him, or worse scared him with the mention of what you could do. The one person who you were managing to befriend, and you could easily tarnish it and have it pulled out of your grasp. Thankfully, he reassured you with his reply. “I would like to thank you for sparing me that day. Many say that hesitation is weak, but you have a sense of mercy. I could see in your eyes,” he stated with a little smile “As for Fitzgerald, he said something about me being a key of some sort. A ‘tiger beetle.’ I have no idea what he’s talking about,” he recalled. You nodded, not out of understanding, but to let Atsushi know that he had your attention.

“You said that Yokohama was in danger?” you timidly questioned. You felt the urge to hug the poor boy as he was pulled back into the current dilemma, his expression changing from confusion to the dawning apprehension that his city was being threatened.

“Fitzgerald plans to burn it all to the ground, the Agency and the Port Mafia along with it. He said it was some sort of incineration operation. I have to warn everyone. I have to get the doll to Dazai.”

You were about to interject his panicked rambling when you both were interrupted by another outside source.

“You two sure do look cozy in there. I just came to check on you when I was taking out the garbage,” Lucy said, her tone dripping with smugness. Her voice prompted Atsushi to leave your side and attempt to convince her to let him out. Normally you would be comforted by Lucy’s presence, but your thoughts went elsewhere while they conversed. You were able to pick up on their conversation when they both showed their burn scars from a hot iron poker. Your heart ached with sympathy for each of them, and you saw the gears of similarity clicking together and turning.

One moment you were in the locked room, but in the blink of an eye you found yourself with Atsushi in Lucy’s room. Her ability allowed her to create a personal space for her and the giant ragdoll called Anne, time and space warping to create such an idea. It had been the first time she had allowed you in, and you could see why she would want to use it as her own escape where no one could reach her. It was then you noticed that in one of her hands was the doll that Atsushi must have referenced earlier.

“Dazai only needs to be able to touch the doll in order to stop the curse,” he guaranteed Lucy when she said it would be too late.

“We are high in the air and unlikely to come down any time soon. What are you planning—?" you began to question, but the look on Atsushi’s face told you and Lucy that he would risk his own life to get the doll to whoever Dazai was.

“Atsushi, you can’t—” you started while shaking your head. “You’ll die.”

There was a moment of silence before Lucy spoke. “So, if you’re serious, then you’ll probably get shot and killed in the air or get cut up by the mad men down there. You know that already, and you’re still going to do it.”

“There was an old book I read back at the orphanage,” Atsushi replied. “One of the passages stood out to me. It read, ‘I’ve never regretted any of the things I’ve done. I’ve only regretted the things that I didn’t do.’”

Atsushi was pulled out of his thoughts when Anne loomed over him to offer a parachute bag. The boy’s sunset eyes observed it in confusion before Lucy explained that she had kept it in case she needed to escape.

“I only have one, so if you would like to stay with me in Anne’s room,” she offered to you, but you watched the surprise take over her expression further when you shook your head.

“I can’t stay here any longer, Lucy. I have to find Roberte even if he isn’t here, and I realize how much of my life I’m beginning to miss being trapped in this aircraft forever in Fitzgerald’s hands. I’ll come back for you.” You offered her a smile which she returned.

“We both will,” Atsushi added with determination.

“How will you get down? I only have one parachute and it’s Atsushi’s,” Lucy inquired with a frown. “You’ll die instead of him.”

“Don’t forget why I was captured to begin with. I have several cards up my sleeve,” you answered.

The door in Anne’s Room opened to show the exterior of the Moby Dick, the wind coursing through your hair. Your body tensed at the idea of how high up in the atmosphere you were, the clouds just below you and the city of Yokohama so small beyond them. You could see pillars of smoke from several directions, a heavy feeling in your stomach as you realized Fitzgerald already put his plan in motion.

You took a deep breath and focused on using your ability. You took on the Change that you used to escape the Zelda when it was set aflame with explosions, the wings protruding from your back and your blonde hair glowing orange in the setting sun. Your eyes didn’t have to adjust as harshly as before once the Change was completed.

You barely registered having time to brace yourself for the big drop down as Atsushi gave you a determined nod, then bravely jumped without hesitation. You glanced back at Lucy one last time, nodding your thanks before leaping after Atsushi. You were airborne.

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday: Viper continuation

For context: in previous sections Daxter's ottsel hearing and Jak's eco-assisted eyes picked up a deadly snake camouflaged near Damas’s throne. It didn't get there by itself. Having foiled the assassination attempt, Damas keeps the boys with him to help identify the would-be assassin. As it will turn out in a part I haven't written yet, there are two: one is an agent of Veger disguised as a monk who wants to destabilize the Spargan nation so Haven can control it. The other is an exiled Krimzon Guard who thinks Damas is too soft and who has been promised his old rank back if he kills him.

Obviously, this means tensions are about to be very high between Spargus and Haven. A note: the language I have Spargans using for ceremonies comes from some conlangers on reddit who have been expanding the Gerudo language from Breath of the Wild. I chose Gerudo because "Sabaa'geru" or "Evening People" sounded like something that over generations could become the word Spargus.

Check out their work HERE and HERE!

"Hey boss!" Daxter hopped out of the elevator and made straight for the pools of water. "Aaaaahhh. Sweet relief."

Damas stifled a chuckle at the boy's antics. He was better suited to the heat than he pretended, but he'd never begrudge Daxter the use of the water. By the time he'd looked away, Jak was already halfway to the dais with a spring in his step. Something rattled in his hand.

"I didn't expect to see you today, Jak," Damas greeted him, "What's that you've got?"

Jak held up an intricate band of bones, fangs and claws symmetrically spaced between tiny vertebra and polished until they shone. "It's done!"

Carefully, he passed it to Damas, watching him eagerly for his opinion. Damas turned the band necklace over in his hands, eyebrows raised.

"You have some skill, my boy! I'm impressed with the detail! How long did it take you?"

"Not too long. The fangs were the last piece I needed. See?" Jak leaned over his arm to point to the Dust Demon viper's fangs, forming a circle at the front that mimicked the emblem on the tower door.

"You can keep it, I have another one I'm working one." Jak clearly meant it, but the way he was looking at the necklace suggested he wasn't ready to part with it.

"It reminds me of the arm circlets my captains wear outside the city's walls, albeit bone rather than woven fabric." Damas stepped back up to his throne and set the jewelry down on its arm to admire it. He turned to look back down at Jak, who was clearly pleased by the comparison.

"Were you able to locate Thrax or the false monk?"

Jak's smile fell immediately into a scowl. "Lost Thrax in the Underport. Veger's guy? No idea. Sorry."

Damas jolted. "You chased him all the way into Haven?! Were you seen?"

In the water, Daxter opened one eye and called up, "They don't suspect nothin'. See, those ungrateful yakkows think they can just snap their fingers and Jak will come runnin', so they just figure we're there on one of their orders and start piling on the tasks."

He shut his eye again and yawned. "Boy are they in for a surprise if this turns into war."

"It may come to war," Damas acknowledged. He was devastatingly matter-of-fact about it, as if he was simply discussing the weather. He turned away from his throne, and the ring of tiny bones, to face Jak.

His gaze rested on him with an unbearable weight.

"Should that day come, you will no longer be able to simply run between cities as you please. I need to know where you stand, Jak."

Perhaps his own lack of hesitation should have concerned him. Made him feel guilty for abandoning friends and history so quickly.

It didn't. It made him feel braver than he'd ever felt.

Taking a breath for courage, Jak stepped up onto the dais and approached the king.

"If you asked it of me," Jak said quietly, meeting Damas’s eyes for as long as he could, "I would breach the walls myself. If you gave the order, I'd even lead the Infiltrators right into the Council Hall. As long as the few people who actually stood with us are given at least a chance to support Spargus, there is nothing binding me to Haven."

Damas looked at him with a bemused expression that wavered between stern and fond before a gentle pride won out. He laughed softly and shook his head.

"I don't think I've ever had a citizen quite as bold as you, young one." He rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, then smirked. "Very well, I accept your terms. Give me the names of these "friends", and they will be granted a chance for asylum."

The boy's smile was brief, but genuine and full of life. He stood a little straighter, trying to look as grown-up as possible.

"Then you have your answer," he replied.

"You'll stand with me? Even against the city your friends call home?" Damas pressed, just to be certain.

With a level of emotion unusual for him, Jak answered firmly, "I'd follow you into the underworld. You're-"

He cut himself off quickly, but his eyes finished the sentence for him.

You're the closest thing I have to a father-!

Blinking in a belated effort to hide those emotions, Jak let them push his impulse into action. Two deep breaths, one for courage, one for luck. Then he bowed, fist to his heart.

"Damas, where you go, I go. I will stand with you -- I swear on the Beacon -- even against the people who called themselves our friends. For our people."

Inside, he was shaking. This was a step he'd never taken. He'd never formally given his loyalty to anyone. If Damas didn't accept it-

Jak refused to think about that.

In an instant Damas’s entire posture softened. He placed both hands on Jak’s shoulders, and raised him back up.

"Do you understand what you're saying?" he asked in a hushed voice.

With a dry throat, Jak swallowed and nodded hard. He searched his mind frantically for the old Coastwatcher language Wastelanders still used for ceremonial purposes.

"A'neen Sabaa'geru vaqu."

We are Spargans.

"E'so Sabaa'geru vaqu, darro'ni," Damas answered gravely. You are of Spargus, my son.

It took him far less time to remember the old tongue.

He stepped back to scoop the band of snake vertebrae off his throne and looped it twice around Jak’s right arm before bringing their foreheads together for an instant.

"I will not forget this," he vowed. "I'm...proud of you, Jak."

Now we are one, son-of-my-heart, his spirit sang. What do I care if you have not earned your last amulet? Now and forever you are Spargan!

Jak's eyes glistened when Damas released him, but his crooked smile didn't budge. This was no childish impulse, he'd meant every word. And Damas would honor that pledge.

"Go, then," he said, returning the smile, "seek out your allies in Haven and tell me where they stand."

"We will." Jak squared his shoulders proudly.

"And," Damas added, raising a brow, "I will expect regular reports on your progress, Captain."

"Don't worry, I- Captain?!" Jak sputtered.

There was just a hint of mischief in Damas’s eyes as he gestured to the armband now covering Jak's bicep. "I am giving you the same authority to recruit citizens that I gave Sig. Use it wisely."

Scurrying up out of the water, Daxter rejoined Jak and smacked his leg repeatedly. He knew exactly who he was recruiting.

And who they weren't recruiting.

Jak stood straighter, stiffer, and Daxter felt him trembling just barely under his paw.

A captain? Him? No one listened to him, he was a glorified servant! What was Damas thinking, giving someone like him authority?

Don't screw this up, Jak. Don't screw this up, whatever you do.

He took a shaky breath. "I- I don't um. I don't know how to- to lead, or if anyone would listen to me but-" DON'T SCREW THIS UP!

"I'll-"

The words caught in his throat, then escaped past his teeth.

"I'll do my best to make you proud."

Damas grinned fiercely at him.

"You already do."

[lxverrings]

Omggggg I just read my req 😭❤❤

Te amo te amo te amo te amo TE AMOOOO!!

I'm actually from Spain 👀

I honestly loved it like all your other works lol ❤❤

I also have another req if you don't mind 💀

Miguel O'hara with reader that is a spiderwoman with the same traits as him (fangs, claws, organic webs) but it was against her will (aka human experimentation) and has a hard time trusting others because of that.

Just some angst / confort

- Spanish anon 💫

One In the Same.

A Miguel O’hara drabbleish

Warnings: anger issues. Lotsa... Yelling </3 lashing out, angst with a comfort-ish ending. GN! Reader!!!

Summary: Miguel forgets how easily he can break with someone that acts and is like him.

A/N: I forgot Spain. How the FUCK did I do that. Still my favorite Nonnie, También te amo, Cielito <3 —I’mma keep you at Solecito ; anyway!!! I did some research on Miguel’s powers— why does he have telekinesis. Well, that’s in the quirked up ginger comics, so I just took the overall ATSV things! I wasn’t sure about the red eyes, so I gave reader pink eyes to differentiate text! Enjoy!!!

Again, he didn’t know what he was doing when he recruited you and your bright spinel colored eyes, sunken into themselves with clear exhaustion burning in your eyes. Wearing the sunglasses he also tended to wear when he was outside more than not, getting empanadas or conchas de chocolate.* He didn’t expect anything as abnormal yet.

Yet he... Hated it.

Look at you, the same powers. Some potential variant of him or whatever?

But...

Pero... *

He lacked social skills already, hell, Miguel’s sorry ass coops up in his own little Man Cave and only LYLA glitches in unexpectedly

(Alfred and Batman?)

Well.

That didn’t matter. You would rarely talk at meetings. He didn’t have to worry about you... But why?

Why didn’t he?

He had to worry about everything going intricately perfect already! Why not one more thing?

The hard truth was... You didn’t trust him. And Miguel realized this when he tried to reason with you on going to a mission.

“Apúrate. No tenemos todo el pinche día.”

He heard your sigh and suddenly jerked his head as you spoke.

“Can’t I do this alone?”

“What the shock are you talking about?”

“You heard me.”

He could almost hear his blood pressure rising in an instant, anger fueling him without much effort.

Embarrassing, really.

“I did. Ahora, cállate*. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t want you to come.”

“Too shocking bad.”

Well that fueled your agitation. “I don’t... Want you there, coño!*”

“What did you just shocking call me?”

The argument got more heated, so heated in fact, that he got too close— that it made you flinch and smack him square across the face.

“I— um...”

“Fuera.*”

You complied.

Rushing home, through your portal as the adrenaline wore down. Once it did, you saw him clearly. The version of your boyfriend that brought you against your will. You were pretty for him. He took off your walls and focused on himself selfishly, calling you pretty like a mantra, bruising your skin senselessly until it bled, and even then, his sorry ass just called you pretty as a habit.

Never once beautiful.

And that was enough for him to throw you to his uncle who experimented on you to his heart’s delight.

Tears flooded down your face, in your civilian clothes, and that faithful watch heard your distress.

Every fucking night.

And Miguel was catching on too...

One week later, he found himself looking for your dimension.

“Shock me... Pinche reloj culero.*”

And eventually, your not-so-romantic knight in shining armor appeared.

Even Miguel could tell something was wrong as the orange portal lit up. Not that you could see it.

Awkwardly, he patted your back, making you flinch.

“Shock— look. I’m sorry, I—”

“Yo soy la qué debería pedir perdón.”

Miguel just sighed and awkwardly sat next to you. It was awkward sitting next to you like this.

It had been a while since Miguel had done anything similar. So he just quietly wrapped a single arm around you...

And let you cry there.

Translations:

Conchas de Chocolate is a type of bread, can’t accurately translate because that’s like saying Baguette but translated

But...

Hurry up. We don’t have the whole damn day.

Now, shut up.

Asshole.

Get out.

Dumb useless watch.

I’m the one that should be saying sorry.

[bright-side20]

Ruhn & Lidia ✴️🔆

With a sparkle of Elriel because I can't not talk about them duh

While rereading CC2 I focused on Ruhn and Lidia because the last time I was focusing more on Quinlar and I've missed details.

Snow Queen:

I believe the retelling of The story of Ruhn and Lidia will be inspired by the snow queen story.First because of the story Lidia told Ruhn and that actually was about her :

there lived a young witch in a cottage deep in the woods. She was beautiful, and kind, and beloved by her mother. (...)

As she ran, she pleaded with the forest she loved so dearly to help her. So it did. First, it transformed her into a deer, so she might be as swift as the wind. But his hounds outraced her, closing in swiftly(...) But the prince was a skilled archer, and he fired one of his iron- tipped arrows.” “The forest turned the witch into a monster before she hit the earth. A beast of claws and fangs and bloodlust. She ripped the prince and hounds who pursued her into shreds.”

“ one day, a warrior arrived in the forest.(..) . She set out to slaughter him, but when the warrior beheld her, he was not afraid. He stared at her, and she at him, and he wept because he didn’t see a thing of nightmares, but a creature of beauty. He saw her, and he was not afraid of her, and he loved her.”.... “His love transformed her back into a witch, melting away all that she’d become. "

The Snow Queen is known as a villainous character, yet we don't know anything about her backstory or motives. What if she's also cursed? What if she also needs someone like Gerda who will truly see and love her to break the curse? That's what Ruhn did; he saw Lidia for who she truly is, loved her for it, and made her remember who she is. That she's not the person she's been portraying. Opened to her about his secret and insecurities they both saw each other. He'll accept her for who she is, even after discovering her true identity and job.

I really like that this is a parallel between them and Elriel, because they also saw each other for who they actually are and fell for each other for it. For me Elain represent Gerda's power, and the fact that Az thinks he's unworthy of her because of he's job, but she already called he's scars beautiful, she'll also accept him for who he is.

Second, descriptions of Lidia are all related to the Snow Queen:

"I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be myself. I think I’ve lost my true self entirely. To destroy monsters, we become monsters."

“You remind me of the wind.” He tried to explain. “Powerful and able to cool or freeze with half a thought, shaping the world itself though no one can see you. Only your impact on things.” He added, “It seems lonely, now that I’m saying it.”

(that's literally a description of the snow queen, powerful yet lonely)

“There’s no place for that in this war. The sooner you realize it, the less pain you’ll feel.” “So we’re back to the ice-queen routine.”

Mating Bond

First, it is obvious that Lidia and Ruhn are mates because he was able to reach her mind without the crystal. After the mental sex, their scents merged, though it remains unnoticed because they haven't accepted the bond yet.

This also shows that Az being able to smell the bond in Lucien's presence, to the point where he can't stand it, is indeed weird.

Secondly, Ruhn walking blindly to his death to save her is typical mate behavior, but the thing is this:

He’d kill him. Slowly and thoroughly, punishing him for every touch, every hand he’d put on Lidia in pain and torment. He had no idea where that landed him. Why he wanted and needed that steel-clad wall between him and Lidia, even as his blood howled to murder Pollux. How he could abhor her and need her, be drawn to her, in the same breath.

Isn't it interesting that he confirmed to Bryce that she and Hunt are true mates, and now, he's experiencing the same instincts but fighting them. The easiest thing to do is oh I know she's my mate I have to accept her, but No! This shows how Sarah writes about mates; the bond isn't the sole reason to love each other or choose to fight to be together. He'll take his time to process things, they'll talk, love, and accept each other for who they are, and then they'll come to the part of the mating bond.

That's why Lucien telling Elain she's his mate right after she'd been into the cauldron is enough to know they're not endgame. In fact, the plot of the mating bond suits Elriel better because with Az showing mate behaviors towards Elain, they also took time to get to know each other and fell for each other.

Power

_Ruhn:

I think he will learn more about his power, especially now that Bryce is with Rhys and Feyre. And he has already questioned if he can do more with his power:

If he were to follow her that way, would he wind up in her mind? See the things she saw? Look through her eyes and know who she was, where she was? Would he be able to read every thought in her head? He could speak into someone’s mind, but to actually enter it, to read thoughts as his cousins in Avallen could … Was this how they did it?

And he has already managed to slip into Lidia's mind:

Ruhn slammed into a wall of black adamant. Time slowed, bringing with it flashes of sensation. No images, all … touch. Bones grinding in her left wrist from where it was being squeezed tight enough to hurt; it was the pain that had awoken her, pulled her away from the bridge.

So I think there will be some development in his abilities. Like, bro, you've got a cool power break some bones, shatter some minds, manipulate the hell out of them.

_Lidia:

I think she might have also inherited some power from her mother, as she referred to herself as a witch in the tale she told Ruhn.

_The fact that she smells like hypaxia:

And her scent had been familiar from the start because Hypaxia was her half-sister, he realized. Family ties didn’t lie. He’d been wrong about her being in House of Sky and Breath—the Hind could claim total allegiance to Earth and Blood.

_Or maybe some fire power, Ruhn was veiled by stars, because of his starborn power, while Lidia was veiled by fire:

Had his mind instinctively shielded him? Or was this what he was, deep below the skin? Was this fire- being standing thirty feet down the mental bridge what she was, deep below her own skin? Or fur, he supposed.

The Hind paused on the threshold before she left, though. Peered over her shoulder at Ruhn, her silver necklace glinting in the sunlight trickling in. Her eyes lit with unholy fire.

That's it, I'm really excited to know more about Lidia and see how their story will unfold, and I'm so ready for January 30th 🌙

[beast-towers]

Further in the facility, in a lonely cell housed a woman. Sitting in a corner as her legs hid her head; one of her sleeves was ripped and now partially covered in some bandages, due to being injected with the Joy Serum.

Feeling physically sick and her mind spinning into confusion, a false happiness trying to claw its way in. Yet she is very resistant to not give these people the satisfaction of seeing her joining them or cracking with a twisted smile. All she can do is try to sleep it off to let the serum pass, but there was one thought that’s keeping her mind anchored… her sons.

Tears began to form as she thought about the twins. Are my boys okay? Are they truly safe? Did these monsters also went after them?… so many thoughts flooded her mind; only to finally snap out of her thought as a soft male voice echoed.

“Are you okay?…” He asked. Causing the woman to look up to the window of her cell wall to meet a man. “They didn’t bring you to those other sections, didn’t they?”

“I’m… okay, just very exhausted. No… I think? All I do remember was when they tried to held me down in here to inject me with… whatever they had… I’m still feeling very lightheaded from it…” She responded, feeling somewhat relieved she isn’t the only one here… what ever here was. “Do you know where we are?… I was with my sons when we wanted to ride on a roller coaster, but I couldn’t get on due the ride being full…”

“We are in the Sanctuary. If I remember correctly, that’s what they called it… it’s rubbed by an organization named, The Ministry of Joy… more like the Ministry of Hell.” The man huffed out with anger. Yet he calms himself as he looked over to the woman again. “I do apologize for not introducing myself. My name is Alden Belle, I’ve been investigating the disappearances that the Ministry took part. I’ve … never imagined a theme park held a dark secret….”

“A pleasure to meet you, Alden. My name is Nicole Alonso, funny enough I’m also in that department branch…” Nicole spoke, yet Alden noticed a surprised look on her face.. “This place… they kidnapped people…? But why?…” She thought until hearing Alden’s voice again.

“Have you also received reports of people disappearing in the United Kingdom?” He asked, which made Nicole look to the side.

“Yes. I’ve tried to research before I had to take a break and I left to be.. here. I passed on the case to my colleagues back home..” She sighs with a truthful shame. She wasn’t the only one who also took on the investigation; others tried everything in their power to find them… but no one succeeded.

Now silence filled the room for the two, until Alden perked up again. “It’s… not your fault. I can tell you wanted to help… of course you do need your time to be mentally prepared. We can move on from that for now. I do remember you saying you have sons, how old are they?”

“They’re both eighteen. My twin boys… Thomas and Tobias. My Rock-N-Roll stars.” Nicole softly chuckled, as a warm motherly smile formed. “Their father taught them to play the guitar and drums when they were young, and now they use their musical passion to remember their father. What about you? Do you have children?”

Alden smiled softly upon hearing Nicole talk about her sons. “Living stars in the making. And I do! Her name is Eleanor, a very clever girl. She’s trying to learn how to be an investigator like myself, but I feel like her mother taught her very well puzzle solving skills.” He softly chuckled, but a small itch of realization hits him. Now unsure if it’s a good idea to ask her about her husband.

“Do you believe this god forsaken place is now trying to find our children? Making sure to… leave no trace behind?” Alden asked with worry, causing the woman to huff up.

“If they do I will rip this place into pieces! I… already lost someone important to me. I will fight to the bitter end to make sure my sons are safe… they’ve done everything for me… I can’t lose them…” Nicole hissed protectively, yet a sense of sorrow began to emerge as tears formed.

“We’re not. And we’re not going to let them.” Alden gave a determined look. “I have a plan. I’ve been studying their time visit to… well that. One comes in while the other wait or guard, if we pretend that we’re sick, we can team up to fight them off and make a break for it.”

“As long they’re not in a big group, I’ll do it.” Nicole lay here head on her arms, looking very tired. “Thank you, Alden… I’m honestly glad you are here to talk… I needed that.”

“Same here Nicole… please rest as you can. We will find our freedom…” Alden said, as he sat back down to watch while Nicole rests. As soon as Nicole fell asleep, Alden began to whisper softly, “Mary… please watch over us and Eleanor… I pray to god she is safe… especially Nicole’s sons… Please continue to give us strength to fight back…”

To be continued…

[cobraonthecob]

just remembered that i haven't posted my merc 2nd seat predictions so here they go, i made them before fernando signed to stay with aston martin btw

REMEMBER. this is all for fun and for merc to deal with. some will be funny, others serious

SERIOUS PREDICTIONS: 1. carlos: easy swap, also, i'd scramble to grab carlos. he has a good brain under that pretty hair and why not. swapsies!

2. fernando: harder to get, as he has said that he'll consider going to merc if aston is a flop this year and merc is stronger this year. as we all know, he is choosing a stable future...hopefully.

3. alex: even harder, as he'll want to be the number 1 driver nurturing williams into a top-contending team. something drastic would have to happen to make alex consider moving

UNLIKELY, BUT POSSIBLE

antonelli: IF he makes top three in F2 and a lot of persuasion, but i feel like merc will try and persuade williams to take him on and take on another, more experienced driver. or merc will just put this kid fresh out of school in merc itself.

esteban: if alpine remains at the bottom of the standings and pierre is dominating, then i can see esteban trying to say 'hey merc, take me, i'll be a second player, idc, just get me out of here'. i doubt it though, considering his history of not getting along with his teammates and i think he and george would kill each other in a way that'll give toto a giant headache

I WOULD BE SURPRISED 1. mick: we love blonde nepo babies, don't we? IF mick is to return to the grid, i can see him getting strong-armed to williams and pulling alex to merc, or merc says 'fuck it, let schumi junior warm the seat for the next coming of max verstappen', then that's a possibility. his second year at haas (aka when the car was in a place to score points) showed that he can score good points, but he wasn't very consistent. he really should've gotten a third year to finally prove his skill, but alas. kmag and nico have way more experience. realistically speaking, he's going to have a hard time coming back to the grid unless he pulled a daniel and gets a P2 time or better in a merc in a tyre test. now, mick's job as reserve and i think he also helped develop the car means that he could be pulled to williams if that's an option, but i don't think mick to merc or williams is a possibility

2. logan: if he can score points this season and alex is not willing to play second and seat warmer at merc, i feel like logan would take it. currently, the way the season's going? if i were logan, i'd start looking to formula e, f1 has nothing for me going on if i can't turn the car in a corner without it attempting to fling itself into a wall

3. valtteri: idk if he'd be willing to gamble on being the better driver when merc has been slowly putting their eggs into the george basket. also why would he go back there. used to be in SILLY but now moved here since hulkenberg has taken a seat at sauber, though a driver of his caliber would be able to easily beat hulkenberg

SILLY 1. sebastian: he retired to be a girl dad, but then deciding 'fuck it, i'll pull a fernando' would have me laugh for a grand total of two seconds before i'm like 'no'. we have plenty of older drivers and no new fresh talent on the grid already, like keep your promise and be with your family

2. rosberg: why would he do this. he retired to be a father and he's happy doing other things. f1 is NOT the end all be all. let him be happy running an ice cream shop with his wife and an extreme e team

3. nyck: what i'd give to be a fly on the wall for that phone call. i can see it. toto calls nyck. nyck picks up. toto is begging on his knees. nyck smiles. 'you left me out of a williams seat for so long that i went for alphatauri. now i'm happy in formula e and wec. thanks, but no thank you. good-bye.'

4. yuki: after all the disrespect alphatauri/vcarb has put him through, he can go to merc and claw his way there. or maybe not. idk how i'd feel about yuki playing second driver to another white man

5. pierre: given alpine being a flop, i wouldn't be surprised if he showed up to the merc/williams auditions. i can see him going to williams to replace alex should alex move to merc, or pierre going to merc, but i don't know he's WANT to be a second driver at merc or williams despite the fact that maybe i do want a pierre-alex lineup. ex teammates of max verstappen let's fucking goooo

6. daniel: after all the smoke and mirrors and the reason why nyck's therapist can afford their kid's motorsport career, daniel makes a move to merc. this prediction is so impossible (merc and daniel wouldn't even consider it for different reasons) but thinking about it made me laugh

[andro-dino]

sooo, Chao Xin and Axel, huh? How did that happen? How did the mountain grub rizz the urban Casanova? (or the other way around, lmao)

FLEETINGSPIRIT MY LOVES FOREVER. god I love them so much. They r like a super self indulgent idea I had out of nowhere so I never really thought of how they actually got together outside of a couple sparse ideas. The main thing with them though was always the idea that they met when gingka was visiting whz and brought essi and Axyl along with him. Axyl as a whole and as usual was very anxious and reserved during the visit and this was most certainly picked up on. I think it would be in character for daxiang and mei mei to try to get him to feel a little more comfortable but zhouxing is also proficient in this endeavor, though with what little Axyl knows about him, they figure it’s a very surface level kind of thing. That of course doesn’t stop him from falling for zhouxing hard and fast, but despite their initial perception, the crushing is more mutual than they’d think. Its most certainly a “one fell first, one fell harder” kind of thing bc Axyl gets crushes very easily while zhouxing is much more used to very causal dating and being in and out of relationships relatively quickly, but his feelings for Axyl hit him like a freight train. This is my self insert comfort ship and I can do what I want with it, so his interest is basically sparked from essentially just being like “his autistic eyes personality and transgender looks have captivated me” /ref and he becomes such a mess over it. Axyl doesn’t really notice it, but to anyone else who knows zhouxing more closely, it becomes VERY obvious how bad he has it for them and how hard he’s trying to impress him. I also like to think mei mei wingmans for both of them, knowing both sides of it and occasionally clawing at the walls with how long it is taking for them to realize how they feel about each other. Zhouxing is trying to play it cool and not make it obvious, not realizing how obviously Axyl is already into him, and bc of that (and also the fact that ae’s an insecure autistic loser who doesn’t have people skills), Axyl thinks he totally has no chance with him. I have a comic that I’ve been meaning to draw about when they actually get together so I won’t spoil the details of that yet, but it is mutually very clumsy and awkward but both of them are so incredibly relieved and happy to know that the feeling is mutual and they basically become just such a sweet and cheesy couple for the entire time afterwards and it is very important to me 🫶