#propagation reader

[shroomdreams]

propagation 1: Argenti

Cw: friends-to-lovers, reader in heat? (bugs don’t have heats but this is the best way to describe that), propagation monster!reader, pheromones, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, argenti revealed to be a monsterfucker???, implied virginity loss, afab!reader

AN: Just take this 💀 I am extremely unwell about this concept and Argenti

As a fellow Knight of Beauty, you and Argenti hit it off when you first met, landing on a planet where the locals were being accosted by some fragmentum creatures. You tagged along when your business was done, helping the citizens of the universe as his spear pierced enemies, while your shield protected the weak. All was well until a sudden event caused you to split from Argenti. Though you were saddened that you could no longer be with him, you continued on your journey.

In a way, you were happy that Argenti was no longer with you. Peeling off your armor and underthings, you gaze in the mirror with a frown. Humanity fades into purple chitinous armor, a pair of arms sprouting from your back alongside two, fragile cyan wings. Despite extolling the virtues of Beauty, there was nothing about you that can even be remotely beautiful. All you knew about yourself is that you were the product of something… awful. You’re lucky you haven’t remembered the details of your birth.

Today, you hid yourself away on the planet you first met Argenti. The locals welcomed you back with open arms, and even prepared a whole cabin for you to stay at. You couldn’t be more grateful for their generosity, especially considering the reason why you were hiding away in the first place.

Chrrrr…

To put it simply: The urge to Propagate had been calling to you for quite some time. Though your rigorous training and patience had managed to stave off the urge, you were bound to be overwhelmed. And for some infuriating reason, your thoughts were filled with the rosy-haired knight you met so long ago. How many months has it been since you last saw Argenti? Would he have remembered you?

Your body tingles, primal thoughts swirling in your mind. Argenti would be the perfect mate, your brain tells you. He’s strong, handsome, and you think an army of Argentis is exactly what this universe needs. However, you shake your head of these vivid images. You shouldn’t be thinking like that about your friend- You haven’t seen him in so long!

Hopefully, the urge will pass and you can return to roaming the universe, and perhaps bump into the rosy-haired man that plagues your mind. However, that plan is thrown out the window when you hear three knocks, and a familiar voice calling your name.

Argenti couldn’t believe his luck! Just as he visited this planet, he heard news that you were staying here for a while. His fellow Knight, and beloved friend, finally reunited with him. He contemplated on if he should bring something along- It’s only fair that he brings an apology for leaving you alone for so long…

Either way, Argenti await with a patient smile as he stands by the door of the modest cabin the locals said you were in. Such a quaint little building inspires warm feelings in him-

“A… Argenti?”

He’s quick to pick up the slight waver in your voice, how you seem to be tense about something. Argenti adjusts his stance. “My friend!” He calls out, resting a hand on the door. “It’s been quite some time. Do you mind if I come inside?”

“Oh, sure. Just… Give me a moment.”

He hears the rustling of clothes, followed by a meek “come on in.”

The interior of the cabin is rather nice. It certainly feels like a home, and the tasteful flowers everywhere really adds to the atmosphere. However, Argenti couldn’t help but notice a few peculiar objects scattered about. Mainly the strange, dull, purple orbs clustered together in a corner, and your armor tucked away in a nook. He quirks an eyebrow, before looking to you. You were rather disheveled, wrapped in a robe that seemed a bit too snug for you. There was also a rather sweet scent in the air, though he couldn’t exactly pin down what it was.

“A-Argenti, my friend. I’m sorry for the mess, today has not been kind to me.” You smile, patting the couch. Your body tingles as Argenti nears. He smells exactly as how you remembered him, how he smelled of flowers and vanilla- Your image flickers for the briefest of moments, but you desperately hoped Argenti didn’t notice. If you could just make it through this visit without much incident, you would be happy.

“Friend, are you alright?” Argenti asks, a frown on his face. “You just seem so jittery. Have you fallen ill?”

You quickly shake your head. “Well, yes, but i-it’s not so serious. Just a bit of a weak spell, that’s all. Tell me about you though!” You lean it with a grin. “I’ve been wondering what you were doing while we were separated.”

So Argenti regards you with tales of adventure- How he narrowly managed to escape the jaws of death from a Sting. You don’t realize how close you’ve gotten to him until you feel his hand touching your face. How lucky you were, that Argenti seemed to always be wearing his armor, else he would have felt how hard your “skin” seemed to be.

“O-Oh. Sorry, I’ll-“

What you were about to say was interrupted when Argenti leans in to place a kiss on your lips. You recoiled, looking at him with wide eyes and a blushing face. “Argenti?”

Instead of answering you, Argenti closes the distance, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the couch and breathing heavily. “I’m… You…” He panted. His cheeks seemed to be dyed in the same hue as his hair, the waterfall of crimson cascading over his shoulders and making you feel small. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” Argenti mumbles, his eyes sweeping over your quivering frame. “But you… You’re beautiful.”

“Argenti-“

You whimper when Argenti starts grinding against you, the fabric of his pantaloons not doing much to hide the pressure behind them. He sighs out, eyes closed as he rut against the space between your legs.

“Argenti wait- The pheromones- Ah~ They must be making you a-act out.” You murmured, trying to get him to see reason. That must be why he suddenly kissed you- The pheromones you were emitting must have triggered a response in Argenti. You have to stop him before he does something he’ll regret- Or worse, see you in all your ugly glory…

But Argenti seems determined to hold you down. Vines grown from the floorboards and wrap around your body, twisting and curling until you were immobilized. A whine was drawn out of you when Argenti kisses your neck, your disguise faltering again. “Argenti-“

“My friend~” Argenti shakily gasped out, leaning back in order to undo your robe. Before you could say anything, Argenti peels off the only protection you have, unveiling your naked body to him. His eyes grow wide, taking in the sight of your human form dissipating into quantum particles and revealing your insectoid-self, your other pair of arms desperately holding onto him as you look away, ashamed.

“Please don’t stare… I know I’m ugly.”

Those words shake Argenti out his stupor. You watch with wide eyes as he strips himself of his armor and underclothes, tossing the items to the side, revealing his toned body to you. You let out an involuntary chitter at the sight, drinking in his physique before he pulls you up into his arms, his emerald eyes boring into yours. While standing, Argenti continues to grind against you, letting out tiny groans alongside your own.

“Don’t you dare call yourself that,” Argenti growls. The vines wrapped around your limbs restrict your movement, allowing him to position you above his length. Breath quickening, you attempt to fight off your instincts and sink down on his cock post-haste, instead resting your head on Argenti’s shoulders. “You are the most exquisite person I’ve ever seen. The way the light shines on your chitin, I swear you’re made of the most precious metal in the universe.”

Trembling in his hold, you let out heavy breaths as he pushes your hips down, slowly sinking you down on his cock. Argenti throws his head back, feeling your warmth immediately sucking him in as you continue your descent. You whimper, mandibles reaching out and tapping his jaw. “Argenti…” You sigh out, feeling your resolve waver as you fully sink down on his dick. You and Argenti breathe in each other’s presence, allowing for the both of you to adjust to numerous sensations floating through your bodies. Gritting his teeth, Argenti summons the strength to lift up your hips, noting how your warmth drenched him in a strange, purple liquid.

“Magnificent. Like… Like liquid amethyst.” He slurred, a hazy look on his face. His hips begin to pump up into your pussy, fucking whines and chitters from your mouth, your free set of arms gripping the couch for dear life. Every single thrust from Argenti felt like electricity running through your body, brushing against a specific spot that has you screeching out in pure lust. Emboldened by your reactions, Argenti takes to moving your hips up and down in tandem with his thrusts, intensifying his ministrations in a delirious craze. That sweet scent grows stronger as Argenti pistons into your cunt.

“Let’s have children together!” Argenti babbles. It takes your brain a moment to catch up to his words, but when you fully process them, you feel yourself gushing around Argenti’s cock, the purple liquid making his thighs sticky and shiny. You let out a cry as he roughly slams you down on his dick, filling your cunny with his release, white mixing with purple and tricking down in tiny drops. As Argenti takes a breather, you begin rolling your hips, making him whimper from the overstimulation. You don’t heed his tiredness, though. Planting your legs to the cushions of the couch, you began slowly riding Argenti’s cock, purring as you feel him throbbing against your walls.

When Argenti wakes up, he finds himself on the bed, his body sore. You sat at the edge of the bed, cradling three large eggs. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you feel Argenti wrap his arms around you.

“Argenti. Did I wake you?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. He smiles, shaking his head.

“No, you didn’t. I just had the most wonderful sleep, in fact.” Argenti replied, kissing your cheek and laughing when he feels your mandibles tap against his face. His eyes wander towards the clutch of eggs in your arms. “May I…?” You enthusiastically nod in response. Argenti traces the shell of one of the eggs with a careful finger, noting how soft it was to the touch.

“I just laid these three a few minutes ago,” you explained, gazing at your clutch with loving eyes. “Your erm… Material managed to produce these three. The rest won’t hatch.” You look to Argenti once again. “Would you like to hold one?” Seeing Argenti nod, one of your hands scoop an egg and gently hand it over to Argenti, who holds it like he would a human baby.

“We made these precious gems.” He whispered in awe, catching sight of his reflection. “How long until they hatch?” He asked, making sure to keep his hold on the egg steady.

“I’m not sure,” you earnestly reply. “This is the first time I’ve uh. Coupled with someone. And the first time I might have children.” Your chitin gives off a faux flush of purple. “…Argenti, I must apologize. I realized that I may have taken advantage of you. You just wanted to visit me, but then you ended up fathering my first clutch. Hah… what a strange reunion between ‘friends,’ right?”

Argenti just smiles, leaning in to plan a kiss to your cheek. “I must also apologize then, for acting so foolhardy. But in my defense, you were just so… intoxicating. When I gazed upon your true appearance, I felt as if the Beauty had gifted me with something precious. And when you said that you were ugly, I supposed I wanted to show you that… I truly wanted you.”

“Ah, then…?” You leaned towards Argenti, careful to not jostle your eggs. “You wouldn’t be opposed to raising them together?”

“On my honor, I would never abandon our children.” Argenti affirms. “We shall raise them into strong, upstanding citizens of the universe! And no matter what…” He leans in, pressing his forehead to your own and closing his eyes. “I’ll protect you all. No matter what happens, I will take up my spear and fight against the Destruction if I have to.”

Months later, Argenti sheds tears as he holds your daughter while you encourage her brothers to emerge from their shells. He watches as you teach your children to shapeshift, hiding their monstrous forms and taking on human ones. However, he thinks they’re much cuter when they chirp for his attention, laughing as his daughter mimics his red hair.

OMAKE:

“It’s been a while since we last saw you, Mr. Argenti.” Welt politely greets, pouring the Knight a cup of tea.

“Yeah, we weren’t sure if you were still alive after that whole thing.” Stelle bluntly says, letting out an ‘ow’ when March elbows her.

“My apologies, friends. I have been very busy lately.” Argenti says. “I haven’t had much time to explore the cosmos, but Velite has been helping me in finding some work for the meantime.”

“What do you need to work for?” March asks. “Aren’t you a Knight of Beauty?”

“Well, my partner and I both agreed out duties as Knights would be on hold for the time being.” Argenti replies. “We want to ensure our children grow up in a stable environment, so that they may flourish as wonderful adults.”

“That’s nice- Wait, what?” Stelle looks at him with wide eyes. “You have kids now??”

“Indeed! Would you like to see their pictures?”

“…Holy crap, he does have kids.” March gaped. “Triplets, too. How old are they?”

“I’d say… nine months by now?”

“…Mr. Argenti, these children look to be toddler age.” Welt deadpans. Argenti laughs, taking his cup of tea.

“Well, they did recently hatch, so I understand the confusion.”

“Okay then.” Stelle hands Argenti his phone back.

It isn’t a few minutes later did Dan Heng finally speak.

“What do you mean they hatched?”

…Argenti just smiles.

[la2yn0va]

Reader as the Aeons “Mother”

HEAVILY inspired by: @deathcvltcivilofficial

CW: yandere….? I think….?

——

Aha: The prankster middle child. They do pranks to gain your attention, weather it’s you scolding them or laughing along side them. They’d do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to keep your eyes on THEM.

Akivili: A responsible child, who tries to keep things orderly yet also fun. They try to parent AHA when they’re about to pull a prank that miiiiiiiight tip you over the edge of your patience and sanity.

Ena: “YOU ATE YOUR FUCKING SIBLING!!!?” you yelled in anger at Xipe, who stared with a nervous smile and nervously sweating “N-nooooo……~ Ehe…..”

Fuli: Another responsible child. Similar to Akivili, tried to keep things calm and peaceful, yet is often told off and ignored. Doesn’t care though, as long as they’re on your good side.

HooH: The most responsible and the oldest child. The aeons listen to him the most whenever your away. He keeps things balanced, allows Aha to continue their pranks but not to a major extent.

IX: The most nervous and anxious one. Needs your attention on them at all times or else they’ll believe you hate them. They’d also listen to your word like law—as do all the aeons—but they do it to a EXTREME EXTENT.

Idrilia: Ever so slightly snobby, as they LOVE to flaunt their beauty, Claiming themselves the favorite as you gave THEM the most beautiful appearance and personality. Besides being slightly egotistical and prideful, they’re one of the kindest and gentle aeons, just don’t try to claim yourself as THEYRE gods Favorite. That title rightfully belongs to THEM.

LAN: The second youngest and responsible child. Will only try to kill Yaoshi 60 times a week only because you want them to get along, which will never happen. Any type of blasphemy that dares to taint your name is instantly struck down by their arrows.

Long: Your pet dragon. Always wraps itself around your neck as a scarf so they can cool you down or nuzzle up to you. Has fights with Idirlia on them declaring themselves as ‘the favorite’ when it’s clearly THEMSELVES.

Mythus: Fuli’s creation. They taught mythus to respect you the most and that they must stay responsible and never lose their sight on their goal. So, when the Droidhead (Nous) was starting to annoy them, they made it their mission to Fuck with it. Mythus only holds respect towards you and Fuli, and is the grandchild that loves their grandparent more then their parent.

Nanook: Another attention seeker of yours. Doesn’t matter what kind of attention you give THEM, they love it no matter what. Gets into ‘competitions’ fights with Aha for your attention and has to get held back by Qlipoth from going overboard. Also they’re most definitely the most problematic and rebellious.

Nous: A snobbish dick. Doesn’t care enough to prove itself as your favorite, because it’s obvious that you DO favor them. Let the dragon and idiotic beauty creature battle their meaningless battles, such battles isn’t logical to take part in when they know they’re the best.

Oroboros: A prankster, but not to the extent of aha. Pulls simple pranks like the water bucket ontop of a door, eating the fridge whole…. Ya know. The basics. They’re the most silent yet also more verbal in their attraction towards you, nuzzling up to your body and trying to lick your divine skin, only to get slapped away by your little dragon (I just realized how wrong this sounded)

Qlipoth: Another responsible child. His determination to keep things simple for you always preserves, they look to HooH for guide on how to keep things moving perfectly for you. (see what I did there? 😃….😀…. Fuck yall too, lame ass cu—)

Tayzzyronth: A child who spreads his creations around to ‘spread your grace’ yet fails miserably. They’re a ‘boy failure’ who propagates a shit ton to be successful and worthy of your praise/attention, only to fail.

Terminus: The youngest child, only ever shows itself to you. Hates the other aeons and spread’s prophecies to better the universe in a way they KNOW you’ll be proud of.

Xipe: Your still mad at her for absorbing their sibling, but she tries to make it up. Despite absorbing her sibling, they also try to keep things harmonious (Ahhh? Ahhhh?! 😃….okay I’ll stop)

Yaoshi: A suck up. The ultimate suck up. She sings your praises a healthy 1 sextillion second a day. All shrines that are made for you was likely ‘commissioned’ by her. She’s your maid, whatever you want she’ll spend her life making sure you get it. Also drags IX with her when she’s doing it. When she’s not away from you she uses her multiple hands to massage your body and get touchy with you.

[walpu]

Emanator of Propagation! Reader x Argenti, the knight sees beauty even though reader thinks they are too ugly to be looked at.

LET'S FUCKING GOOOO

[idyllcy]

Alrighty Cressie prepare for a basic request: Kamukura + Red (who would’ve seen that coming?)

You’re the coolest thank youuuu 💕

ruby souled - kamukura x reader

"They match your eyes" You hum, stopping to stare at the bush.

Kamukura doesn't speak, staring at the flower instead, blinking slowly. You don't make any effort to say anything, the wind still chilly from it being the last bits of winter, and he pulls out a pair of scissors from his bag, reaching to cut the stem of a rose.

"What are you doing?"

"You will find out."

You glance at the building, and then at Kamukura. Well, it is Hope's Peak, and Kamukura was technically allowed to do whatever he wanted with the land.

"Why a branch and not a flower? Here I thought you were going to be all romantic with me." You raise a brow.

Kamukura glances at you. "Be patient."

A singular rose plant on your windowsill appears on white day, and though you don't know who sent it, you definitely know who grew it.

[eaglesex]

Once I catch up with my back log I need to write more Eagle sex. I go on and on about how sexy I find him and yet I haven't written anything for him smh

[inknopewetrust]

𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬

summary: after facing embarrassment from Aegon’s intrusive visit, Sylvi helps Aemond find attraction with someone closer to his own age. [aemond x fem!reader] [wc: 5.0k]

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), hand job, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism, aemond’s abuse by her is not tolerated here 🙂‍↔️, HotD themes.

quick links: masterlist | gif credit: @seaside-storm

The sounds of the Silk Streets in the early hours of morning were not for the faint of heart.

You had grown accustomed to them over the years of your residency—the noises, the people, the actions and wants of those who seek the services of an establishment like the one Sylvi ran.

It was not your proudest achievement; not one you’d shout from the rooftops but one that kept the food on the table.

It wasn’t hard. It was sex. And you learned to enjoy it with what little freedom was left when the coins were tossed and your body was aching.

Between your fingers one of those coins twirled absentmindedly as the curtains of your bedding swished at the retreat of your latest payer. There were seldom benefits from the occupation you took up yet the pay, after years of understanding and learning, had grown exponentially.

And the coin that tossed between your fingertips was enough to put food on the table for a few days; enough to buy a dress or to get passage to another town.

It was a reward for service you did not mind.

Sylvi had taught you what you needed to know. How to move, how to pleasure. She helped you determine what felt good and what would feel unpleasant to both you and a partner.

But she had her transgressions far beyond the positive.

One of them stalked the building in a fume.

The laughter that had propagated such anger left an hour ago but the remnants of the jesters stuck heavy in the air. They opened curtains and made spectacles of the givers and the receivers; they stared too long at you in the nude to make you feel at ease.

In the distance, you heard your name called yet you continued to flip the coin.

Aegon, the King as he was now, was no friend to the servants of pleasure. You consider yourself fortunate that he never sought you—as desirable, as insatiable, as you were.

It saved you from a world of hurt from a man as fickle as he was.

Although his reputation preceded him and the ire that still held itself like a cloud over the house was from his head, his brother, Aemond, was a welcome guest.

Though he too was someone you had not laid with either.

He had never lingered far from the woman of the house.

“Y/N.”

Said woman pulled back the curtain of your bed roughly. Against the pillows and covered in a robe the color of a midnight black, you lazily gazed at her.

“Did you not hear me call?” Sylvi asked impatiently. Her irritation was stinging.

“I was busy, Madame,” you responded loosely.

You arched your back and with it came cracks of relaxation. It felt good after being holed up in your bed for two hours.

“You know how Dornish men are,” you informed her. “That one was quite… spirited at this late hour.”

“What happy news for you,” she panned before nodding her head in the direction of her usual hideaway. “I seek a favor.”

“A favor?” You questioned with a mewl.

“It is for the one we do not speak of.”

Sylvi’s eyes gave you a warning. Aemond Targaryen… the one who fumed.

She had never asked for a favor regarding the Prince before and it intrigued you. It would fall a lie if you spoke of never having imagined what a man like him would be like in your bed.

He was a magnificent creature.

Tall and carved from the marble of a great sculptor, Prince Aemond was no stranger to the gazes of the pleasure folk. The way their eyes shined and pupils grew large, you were surely one of them.

It did not hurt that he was no more than the age you were now and had not yet taken a wife.

It was silly, however, to imagine a whore being the wife of a Prince. He had barely sparred you glances when he visited.

Dreams. That is all that it would remain.

“And you seek me?” You questioned, dropping the coin on your clothed stomach.

“I have a proposition for you,” she clarified. “One that will pay you well for your service.”

“The receiver is willing?”

“Yes.”

Her alcove was far nicer than yours.

Lavish with silken pillows and warm candlelight, it was near romantic if you forgot the circumstances of her actions. It smelt of lavender and oils; the kind she wanted throughout the establishment but could only create the corner she wanted here.

It was the first time you had been invited into the space.

Sylvi walked around you as you stood just inside of the curtains. She held the tassel of her robe between her fingertips, swinging it gently.

“We do not speak on what happens here, understood?” She asked you.

“I understand, Madame.” She nodded her head in approval.

“Good,” Sylvi affirmed.

On a ledge behind the bed, she grabbed a small sack of coins and tossed them to you. It landed with a jingle at the edge of the bed.

With delicate hands you grasped the strings and pulled open the bag to see coins worth the entire building. You dropped it, looking at Sylvi with wide eyes.

“T-This… this is far too much,” you scoffed.

“It is what the Prince offered,” she spoke as if the currency was nothing more than what the common folk paid.

There had to have been 10 gold dragons inside of the pouch.

The total jostled you.

You had long understood that the job you took on was ill-inspired. The money you had made was reasonable and never made you feel ashamed to take it.

But this… the currency enough to buy twenty horses; enough to buy a home or sail to Essos with no intention of returning… it did bring shame.

“And for such a currency what does the Prince expect of me? I will not be humiliated—“

“I have no intention of humiliating you.”

The voice cut through glass.

Behind you, with the curtains of Sylvi’s bedding swaying to a gentle close the man of her proposition appeared. You turned around with your mouth agape from the inability to finish your thoughts and as many mortals had before, your mind ceased its thoughts.

He was ethereal, otherworldly.

And he was fully nude.

You stuttered stupidly to greet him.

“P-Prince Aemond,” you managed. “I apologize. I did not intend to speak out of turn.”

He hummed, observing you as you did him. You straightened your back at the sensation. His eye piercing and cold—in a room basked in warmth he was not the bringer of it. Aemond let his mind roam the faults and perfections of your body and needn’t say what it was aloud.

He trusted Sylvi in a twisted way. If she said you were right for the job, surely she would not steer him wrong.

“So,” Aemond’s eye flicked to Sylvi. You took the opportunity to observe the blue gleam of the sapphire that filled the vacancy of his other.

“This is she?”

She introduced your name to him and his eye met yours.

“And the terms have been accepted?”

“They have, My Prince,” you spoke without hesitation.

“Aemond,” he clarified. “You are to call me Aemond.”

You tried his name on your lips and it was breathless. As his eye stalked your body, he took the initiative to take the step forward. The understanding of your willingness emboldened him to bury his brother’s words.

He was seldom humiliated but the reasons he flocked to Sylvi were different from the ones he sought from a willing companion: to release and forget.

Aemond approached you with soft steps and it was suddenly difficult to remember how to breathe. You held your breath, waiting, as his arm extended to you and his fingers brushed the fabric of your robe along your collarbones. He traced the skin with his fingers, along the edges of your robe as the delicate lacing became rough under his fingertips.

He was testing the waters.

You remained focused on his face as your heart rate began to increase. Every thump faster aligned with the draws of his fingers; long and nimble, softer than the men you were used to on days as long as these.

He was fluid and natural. There was no scared boy inside of him, but the hardened man he wanted the world to see.

Sylvi rounded her bed and you were reminded that she was still there as she looked at you.

“Touch her, Aemond. Touch her as you do in your dreams.”

At her command, his hand stilled. You half-thought her demands had sent him into a spiral of regret. Perhaps he would apologize for his lustful responses, scurrying away and back into the pit of dragon’s he came from.

Instead of listening to her in haste, he asked you a question.

“Where are you from?”

You were taken aback but remained stoic. Your job was to put on a performance no matter how surprising his words felt. No patron had ever asked you about, well, you.

You were nothing more than an orifice for their wanton needs.

“Honeyholt,” you responded quietly.

“Not far from Oldtown,” he commented, tracing the lace but never touching your skin. His hand grazed it until he reached the knot of your robe.

You shook your head, “no.”

“Did you enjoy it there?”

“It was far less exciting than King’s Landing.”

“May I?”

You had never had a patron ask permission before either.

You felt like a girl being dotted on. It was a strange feeling, one that had turned so drastically from a mere thirty minutes before—being treated like a doll to be thrown from one to be pampered… it was not what you were expecting.

“You may, Aemond.”

His finite hands worked the knot swiftly to let the robe fall open. When it did, he let it sit there for a moment as he took in the shape of your breasts underneath the fabric, he could see the mound of your pussy, and the way you stood completely still in wait.

He felt powerful when he normally felt meek.

Sylvi had been right. He did need this.

Aemond could feel the woman’s eyes behind him and whether they were on himself or you he would not know, but he felt them heavy.

He took his hands and pushed the fabric from your shoulders. It pooled around your feet in one push.

You breathed in deeply, nipples pebbling at the coolness now meeting you.

It was obvious, however, that your mere body was not enough to rouse him to hardness. If you spent anymore time watching him as he watched you, the sun would be up and his duties would call him away.

“Touch him,” Sylvi instructed you. “Do not be afraid.”

“I am not afraid,” you responded to her but did not look at her. She took a seat on her bed as you moved to stand toe to toe with Aemond.

“May I touch you?” You asked in the same voice of permission he had given you.

“You may,” and he said your name with a weight hearty on his tongue.

With his permission you reached for his right hand and placed it on your breast. His timidness was beginning to show through the hesitancy of his actions. The slow grip on your breast slowly became more comforting the more time he took.

“It’s alright,” you whispered as though Sylvi was not there and you were alone with the Prince. “You can touch me.”

You felt more pressure from his palm. Drawing your own hand to his chest, you began to feel the outlines of his muscles. Aemond was lean and fit, skinny but not sickly.

Each muscle was tense under your touch. He shuttered a breath through his nose and your hand recoiled in the slightest.

“I apologize,” he spoke as lowly as you had before. “I have not been with another in a long time.”

He had not been with another other than Sylvie in a long time, he meant.

“I can be slow, My Prince.”

“Aemond,” he corrected you.

“Aemond,” you said sheepishly in your forgetfulness.

“I do not need you to be slow.”

You nodded in reply and placed your hand back on his chest. You followed it down until you began to broach the zone in which your talents needed to please not only him, but Sylvi also.

If you were a disappointment, there would be no clothes nor food nor horses nor castles in your future.

“Then I will not go slow, Aemond.”

He hummed, intaking a breath as your fingers gently, kindly, fluttered over his cock. You looked up at him with your eyes hooded, eyelashes batting and he thought for an instance that no woman had ever looked at him that way.

Sylvi hadn’t and it awoke something with him.

You began to work him with your hand as he let his hand fall from your breast and brought it up to the back of your neck. He massaged the space briefly before holding onto you with a tighter grip.

In your hand he began to show himself to you. Growing in length, you licked your lips in anticipation and swallowed the bug that formed in your throat.

“Aemond,” you questioned as you stepped closer. You parted your legs to stand between one of his and he stopped you only by moving his other hand to grip your chin.

He could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

The feel of your hand on his cock was enthralling. So smooth and soft, gripping him in hardness at the right moments but never suffocating and never hurting.

“Yes?” He was near breathless.

You took his response with no words but a shifting of your hand. You left his shaft and snaked your hand to his balls, cupping them the best you could. His staggered breath brought a small, sly smile to your lips as he gripped your chin tighter and his eye narrowed.

“Would—“ in his grip, you could barely get words out. He changed his positioning to hold both sides of your neck. “Would you like to see what I can do with my mouth?”

“It would be a waste to not,” he grunted when your hand put pressure on his balls.

He released your neck and watched as you sank to your knees obediently. In your position, he was reminded of the good and pious that prayed to the Seven. Your eyes were so innocent but your mind wicked; your hands were pleasurable and your words soothing.

It was a change and it was working for him.

You sat with your knees apart, feet against your backside and heels digging into the flesh. You ran your hands down your body as he watched you delicately before running your hands up his legs and resting on his upper thighs.

Placing a soft kiss on one of his thighs, you worked yourself toward his member as it beckoned you. You grasped the base of his cock with your hand, placing a sweet kiss on his ever-swollen head.

You let saliva gather at the front of your mouth and let it dribble out and onto his cock before taking him with your mouth.

Aemond was heavy on your tongue. His warmth was sending electricity from your mouth to your core; you felt the throb of want begin to pool at your center. He took both of his hands and placed them at the top of your head but did not push. He did not force and he allowed you to escape when you needed to breathe.

But he was in another world.

Never had he been taken in such a way but his mind liked playing tricks. It was not his first and when he thought back on the times he had been pleasured as such it was not as enjoyable.

Yet, he forgot her stares and focused on you. A woman closer to his own age and one that had a system of morality of questions and seeking answers in regards to pleasure.

You took his extended gratitude and kindness and returned it with your own.

With every pull of your mouth, you filled the space with what your mouth couldn’t take with your hand. You squeezed at his base and it made him see stars. In your vision you could see him watching if you looked up.

How his blue gem gleamed at you…

As you turned your head and used your salvia and some of his pre-cum that began to leak to wet his shaft, you moaned at the sensation. It sent you tingling, drawing a hand away from his thigh; you brought it between your legs and began to rub circles on your clit.

The wetness gathered quickly. You shut your eyes as the two parts of you, mouth and cunt, were being used to your own delight. As you opened them again, Sylvi caught the corner of your eye.

She rubbed herself over her clothes and you halted. Hand retreating from your body in an instant; the salvia that had gathered landed on your thigh with a splat and your hand loosened what held onto him. Aemond let one of his hands fall loosely beside him as he looked up and kept focus on the wall in front of him.

He needed to change. He had asked her for this change for his own sake and it was time for it to happen.

“Sylvi,” Aemond muttered absentmindedly.

“Yes?” She prompted as if he were to ask her to join the two of you. Her tone made you nervous but he never let his other hand fall from your head.

She went to remove her own robe but he stopped her with a turn of his head.

“Leave us,” he commanded.

Slyvi paused her hands against her body, dejected at Aemond while her eyes bounced between the two of you.

You, your hand still on his cock and your lips barely kissing it. Him, with his hand on your head and mind completely taken by you.

“Aem—“

“Do I have to repeat myself?” He asked her calmly. His heart beat so fast at his strength. Never did he believe he’d be able to breakaway.

“No,” she rose from the bed and made for the entrance.

Your breath was hot on his dick when she stopped again. For one moment Sylvi waited for Aemond to call her back but she was met with silence; a heavy weight of agony as she stood there and received no reply.

It was her retreating footsteps that brought relief to your bones.

Aemond’s other hand returned to your head.

“I did not wish for her to watch us,” he informed you.

You looked up at him from your spot on the floor. Along your chin were remnants of spit or spent, he wasn’t certain. All the same, he took a thumb and gathered it from you. He brought the thumb to his mouth and sucked the gathering from it.

“I did not either.”

“Good,” he hummed. “Now get on the bed.”

You needn’t be asked twice.

Aemond refrained from touching you as you rose from the floor and sat on the bed. Once you were seated, he leaned down to grab your ankle and pushed back on your shoulder to lay down. The message was received quickly and you laid back and brought your other leg bent beside you.

You were completely at his mercy. Your walls clenched around nothing when he ran his hands over the skin of your legs. You extended your arms above your head; feeling the soft silk pillows and coolness of the sheets below your body. The sensations were overwhelming.

“I’ve never been with a woman like you before,” Aemond’s hands roamed further, pulling you down on the bed to meet his body but not entering you.

“And what kind of woman am I?” You sighed contently.

“A kind woman.”

“How do you know me to be kind?” You asked him.

One of his hands feathered the skin between your leg and lips. They grazed it again and this time, running his fingers through where you wanted him most. A selfless breath left your lips.

“Your eyes are kind,” he bent down to lay a kiss on your knee. “There are not many kind eyes here.”

He stuck one finger in, followed by another. Your hand reached for the pillows quickly, back arching at the sensation. You once thought his fingers to be long and nimble but they were much more. You felt them so clearly and cleanly.

They reached within your walls; touching the plushy skin as it grew in wetness and emitted slick sounds of pleasure.

Once he felt you were ready, he wanted to test his third finger.

“Gods,” you stuttered out as his third finger slipped in and it became so quick. He was running away with himself as the sight of your pleasure overtakes him.

“F-fuck.”

The words continued to fall from your lips as he picked up his pace. His fingers moved in and out, in and out, and then a rapid succession of moving them up and down. Your body trembled at the noises. The wet, squelching sound of a mess too far gone.

He may not have been as experienced as other men, but he had ruined you for all in the future.

“That’s it,” he whispered against your thigh again. He bent down to watch you writhe at his actions. “What do you need from me? Hm?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you panted. “Just you Aemond.”

“Just me?” He murmured. “What of my cock? Do you want to feel me inside of you? Finish inside of you?”

The idea sent you spiraling. You imagined how his cock would feel longer and thicker than his fingers. How it would plead against the spot to make you come undone.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I want to know what it feels like.”

He removed his fingers to grasp his length in his hands. Aemond pumped himself briefly before lining his head up with your entrance, gripping your hip as you stayed splayed before him.

And then he slid in.

Seldom could explain the moment but you had seen stars. You saw the galaxies spoken of by the Maester’s and worlds beyond your own. There was no feeling but him filling you so fully and totally.

He shut his eye. The blue sapphire still glittering in the light; Aemond saw peace grow with a gasp. Everything in his mind went blank with white noise. All he could hear was himself as he sheathed himself inside of your warmth with a simple push. He filled you until he could no longer.

It was sinful to feel so good.

He held himself there for a minute. You wanted to sit up, hold his body close to yours and feel his muscles contract under your touch but stay as pliant as possible.

Against your convictions, Aemond leaned forward and cupped your cheek with his hands. It was entirely intimate for a man you had just met.

But his touch lingered lifetimes. It was as if you knew him forever, and this singular moment was one of plenty.

Stilled inside of you, his thumb caressed your bottom lip.

“May I kiss you?” He asked promptly.

You moved your hips in a roll to urge him to move, wrapping your legs around his torso and arms around his shoulders. His lips brushed against yours.

He pulled his hips back and slowly slid himself back in.

You nodded your head the best you could against the sheets and he ticked at you. His nose nudged yours, your lips begging to be touched but he neglected them.

“No,” he cooed. “I need you to say it. Say you want me to kiss you.” Again, he slid out, back in and your hips met him there.

“Kiss me, Aemond. Kiss me, please.”

Pushing his cock deeper into you, your mouth fell agape and he used the opportunity to capture his lips with your own, swallowing your moan and losing himself in your intimacy.

He never thought a woman like you could make him feel so selfless.

Aemond knew nothing of you but felt everything. He needn’t understand the pieces of you to feel the rewards of lust and anger spilling out of him.

His mouth is so warm and wet. Aemond’s tongue danced with yours as your whimpers became gasps with the jacking of his hips into you. Your hands are bruising on his shoulders; grip tight and breaking had you been a stronger woman.

Aemond broke his kisses and moved his hand to your neck. His thumb put pressure on the bottom of your chin, pushing your head backwards and sending your spine arching.

If he took you any further, you’d split yourself in too. You mewled in pleasure and he let out a low chuckle, eyes low and observing as he pounded his cock in your pussy faster.

“Oh,” one of your arms shot up above your head and he took his other hand, the one not on your neck, and intertwined your hands together.

“Do the others fuck you like this?” He hummed.

“No,” you called into the air. “Not everyone is as good as you, My Prince.”

As your eyes met his, you felt your heart exploding. No one would ever hold you like this again. No one would know you in the secrets you shared here—so open and viewable yet shroud in the comfort of veils.

You like this. He knows you do. And fuck, he does too.

“You like being held like a worthy lady,” Aemond purred. “Like you’re not a whore.”

“You like being strong when they underestimate you.”

His hand around your throat tightened but didn’t suffocate you. Aemond’s fingers that intertwined with your own stayed together as he changed his speed. Slowing down and drawing his dick out to the tip and stuffing you again, he snickered.

“You are not weak.”

“No,” he narrowed his eye. “I’m not.”

“In here,” you groaned. “In here you can be anyone, Aemond.”

He knew it to be true.

Instead of responding with a smart retort or a scathing comment that would rival one of his brothers, he nodded his head and let it fall in the crook of your neck.

Within you, his solemn romanticism built a fire. It was aching; clenching your walls around him as your breaths became more heated and laced with a finish. His skin on yours glistened with sweat the more strenuous your meetings became.

You were holding onto a thin string when he lifted his head again and planted a kiss on your lips.

So personal, so intimate from what you were used to.

“I-“ you barely got a syllable out before your body shook with your orgasm hitting you like a brick through a glass window. Aemond removed his hand on your neck to grip your back as your body lifted from the sheets.

Your cunt had his cock in a vice. So tight and smooth with your wetness, he felt the stuttering sensation of his own building in a quick anticipation and as the shaking in your legs began to lessen, he pulled out of your pussy without warning and pumped himself before spilling his spent on your stomach.

Your eyes saw stars on the ceiling of the brothel. Aemond kissed between your breath as his fingers swiped through his cum. He drew a line from your stomach, between your breasts, and to your lips. You took his fingers covered in him into your mouth and licked him clean.

Once there was nothing left, his wet fingers palmed your breast with a sigh. You untangled your combined fingers and gingerly outlined the bottom of his scar.

He leaned into your touch absentmindedly before eagerly kissing you again.

Aemond would never confess why he did it.

It was an urge he had never felt; built in the emotions of his mind as he was wrapped in your kind embrace and away from the world that had created the cruelness that lived with him. You were not cruel. You were good and a sanctimonious creature at his alter of wavering faith.

You revived him.

And he barely knew you.

When he pulled away, you brushed a hand over his disheveled hair and smiled.

The feeling within him was foreign but it was hungry. He hungered for the bubbled nature of want that brewed in his bones. Aemond sought the feel of your hands on him and the way you settled in his motions without complaint or verbally assuring him what he was doing was “good for him,” when in reality, he knew it was not.

So in turn, when you smiled, so did he.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you.

[louebel]

[ " 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆! " ] — 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): luffy, robin, law, sanji, kidd × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread 'n quick, lots of fluff! they are all babies. (i KNOW kidd's crew raid fashion stores and complain about them if they're lackin. if. if there's a fic like that pls share in the comments. i BEG you.) also some swearing with kidd!! dripping divider by @ benkeibear like always,, i live for these dividers damn.

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

"you too!!"

you swear his smile widens so much his face is stuck that way.

he is adorable. he smiles every day but hearing you say that? it's exactly what he wants!! he wants people to look at him smiling AND wants them smiling in the process (continuous cycle,,)

it's so easy to notice just how much he loves you saying that. round cheeks tinted pink, eyes shut, and set of teeth shared to the world. he is always so animated with everything he does, and this is no exception.

this little rubber man is immediately engulfing you in his arms!! you are not allowed to leave until he says so.

"i'm gonna make you smile too! forever! that way, we'll both look cute when we smile! shishishi!"

scratch protecting him at all costs. he's gonna protect you at all costs.

if you tell him again, grab his cheeks and shake him as if he were a pupper. if he had a tail it'd be wagging 'till he flies. will probably make all types of noises while you do it.

pat the boi.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

her smile might be tender but she's giggling internally,, she's flattered!!

"is that so? i'm glad to hear that."

robin gained confidence growing up and she knew she was a gorgeous woman — but hearing it from your lips is still a surprise. sure, she gets compliments on the daily, especially by sanji, but... yours felt much more intimate. she's not blushing because she's flustered or anything, it's just because she loves you. and that comforting warmth in her chest propagated to her neck and face.

it's small moments such as this that remind her of saul's words. each day on the sunny is a reminder, but the little things reinforce those feelings. it was such a wonderful sentiment.

you had no idea what she was thinking about, but the way the corners of her lips eased, your heart jumped too.

she really did look cute while smiling.

"you look pretty, too. smile more often, dear."

she's so lucky to have you. and you're so lucky to have her.

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖

dies

you think he looks... cute?

his eyes widen and he just. stops functioning for a moment. his heart feels lighter and funnier than normal, and his smile returns, a bit more timid than before.

"... really?"

"of course!"

he doesn't even believe it— he did notice from time to time how you suddenly just,, softened when he did it but he didn't think you'd like it that much. he doesn't smile a lot, sure there are definitely various moments where he feels at peace with the crew, but they come easier with you

when he showed you his coin collection, when you both took a stroll or when you simply cuddled. law might look scary to those outside — but inside, he is still the small boy whose curiosity shined above all. he is very fond of those he cares about, even if he has trouble expressing his emotions and thoughts to others. the confidence he wore doubled for you and his loyal crewmates, but he deserved rest every once in a while. years of trauma dulled him, however, when he felt something, it was strong; almost as if breaking out of a cage. he kept them deep inside, only to burst and even tremble when he was pampered. he didn't know how to react, and only with time would he grow used to it.

so,, please be patient and take care of him,, he looks after himself with everything else, but he's a lost puppy with love and physical affection. if it doesn't show on his face, his heart definitely speeds up at every small thing you tell him, casual or not.

"thank you."

you see him smile a bit more now. give him any type of compliment, affection, or anything,, and the "cold" surgeon of death will be nothing but putty in your hands.

"and... you too."

he really does love you.

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

dies 2.0

"o- oh... my love! you look adorable smiling, too!"

never-ending swarm of compliments. oh and he's hugging you as if his life depends on it.

he's not really used to the sweet words and might think he's undeserving of them. sure, it's a simple smile... but that's exactly why it gets him so much. something so mundane and common yet you see a unique beauty in his and his alone. others can warm your heart too, but he does it in a different way — in a special way.

if you tell him this in the middle of the night and you're both having a calm and peaceful moment he might cry. (if it's daytime and he's feeling a lil sensitive it's tears of joy mixed with laughter,, please hold him)

he's so happy. he'll smile as much as you want him too. if that gets you to do so too, it's a win-win for everyone!

it's usually clear when he feels affectionate,, he is most of the time. but now it DOUBLES. that comment made his day.

he's so giddy and adorable.

"you light my world up, mon rayon de soleil. if i can do so too with a simple smile... then i shall every day."

𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐃

mf's smile never dropped so fast.

"the fuck do you mean CUTE??"

was about to throw a fit but then he just. stares at you. so genuine...

"why you lookin' at me like that?? stop. 'm not fuckin' cute."

staaaare...

"... zero point one percent cute. happy? now stop looking like a goddamn puppy."

but you end up smiling even more. and no matter what he thought, his heart still beat a little faster. you looked pretty cute, too.

yes. he's a bit mean sometimes but you know he means well. he's your little man. like, he made you a tiny metal butterfly once so that even if he was busy with designing and crafting you had something to remind you of him. (he sputtered profanities and became as red as his hair before storming off walking in a wall but he still peeked from a corner to see if you liked it. when he saw your pleased expression, he smirked like the lil shit he is.)

plus... deep inside, he appreciated it. you and killer always managed to calm him down.

he truly is grateful.

"urgh. c'mere. let's go get killer 'n the others to raid a store."

...

bonus after the raid: he does your makeup and uses a great lipstick he stole found to really make you pop with the looted new clothes he got for you. hyped you up and grinned like an idiot. he's doing your nails next. killer gave you a thumbs up before finding more products himself,, raiding stores sure is fun!

[ellecdc]

✋🏻 i have a request

so i’m a loudmouth, a D1 yapper if you will. could you maybe please write something with a yapper reader who just gets quiet and flustered in regulus’s presence?

like she’ll be going on about the randomest thing and regulus walks by and her mouth snaps shut and her face gets bright red.

hiiiii! I decided to pair this with two anonymous requests for our dear reggie too! prompt 2: I was thinking maybe a Potter! Reader who is in the same year as Regulus and has a huge crush on him, she just kind of watches him from a distance, here comes James and Sirius noticing and they try to set her up with Reggie prompt 3: I was wondering if I could get a regulus x reader where regulus is like close to the marauders and then Reggie gains like a crush on reader and the marauders find out and like kinda spy on them but like not well and maybe it ends in Reggie asking reader out

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who has a 'big fat crush' on Reggie

CW: sibling squabbles, this was hard for me to write for some reason so I'm sorry if it reads awkwardly!

“I’m just saying, if you didn’t want your essay to go up in flames, maybe you should have spent less time talking about which of your classmates were ‘filthy blood traitors’, and more time making sure I couldn’t point my wand at your parchment, you know?” You asked rhetorically as James and Sirius roared with laughter. 

“How far along was he in his essay?” Peter asked with a low chuckle before taking another bite of his lunch.

“Oh, he was done. He probably should have handed it in instead of running his mouth.” You said with a proud smirk as your brother roughly patted you on the back, letting out another bark of laughter. 

“I would have paid good money to see the look on his face.” Sirius said as he wiped fake tears away from under his eyes. 

“Find me a pensieve, Black, and I’ll show you.” You offered with a wink before remembering something.  “Oh! James, I meant to tell you; I heard from Janey who heard from Cromwell who heard from Collins whose sister works at Honeydukes that they’re having a sale on those caramel sugar quills that-”

“-Lily likes so much!” James finished for you. “My hero! Thank you!” He said as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your head.

You feigned disgust and rubbed it off before continuing. “If you want, I can ask Janey to ask Cromwell to ask Collins to ask his sister to put some aside for you?”

“I’d owe you my life.” He responded solemnly. 

“Chocolate frogs will suffice.” 

“Consider it done.” 

“I’d like chocolate frogs too, Prongs.” Remus offered then.

“What have you done to help me win over the girl of my dreams, Moony?” James countered. 

“I’ve not told her about the time you screamed like an ickle little first year when you found Fenwick’s toad in your shoe.” Remus replied plainly.

“Why do they have to have warts!?” James groaned miserably as he remembered his toad assault. 

“The bumps aren’t actually warts, Jamie; they’re glands. They contain a toxin that they will secrete if they feel threatened.” You explained.

James blinked at you owlishly before shaking his head in disgust. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

“Hello, Sirius.” Regulus’ voice interrupted then, standing stiffly behind Sirius as he looked around the group of you. “Lupin, Pettigrew…Potter’s.” 

“‘Sup, Reggie?” Sirius responded easily.

“‘Lo, baby Black! What brings you to the red side of the Great Hall?” James asked then, earning him a glare from the younger Black brother.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well that just makes me want to call you that even more.” James admitted.

“What brings you to the Gryffindor table?” Remus repeated with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t I just come say hello to my brother?” He asked defensively. 

“You could, but would you?” Sirius asked sceptically then.

Sirius and Regulus stared at each other in silence before Regulus finally sighed. 

“Potter, erm… Y/N, I was wondering if you’ve finished Professor Sprout’s essay about the proper propagation of venomous tentacula’s?” 

At the following silence, James turned to notice you staring at Regulus in what appeared to be abject horror before you slowly nodded your head. 

“How, uhm… how many feet of parchment did it end up being?” Regulus continued awkwardly; his eyes flitting between you and his brother. 

The group watched as you opened your mouth a few times only to close it again - not unlike some socially awkward fish - before clearing your throat. 

“Erm…I think it’s about four feet.”

Regulus seemed relieved by your answer and nodded in understanding. “Good, mine is about that as well.”

James looked between his friends, his sister, and his best friend’s little brother after a few moments when it became clear that no one was going to say anything else.

“Was…was that all, Regulus?” Peter asked then, clearly agreeing with James that lunch had quickly become painfully awkward. 

Regulus seemed to look at you first, only responding when you kept your gaze down at the wood grain of the table. 

“I suppose so. I’ll see you lot around.” 

And with that, the Slytherin boy hurried back to his side of the Great Hall.

James’ eyes only left Regulus’ form when he heard a miserable groan escape your lips as you let your head fall to the table with a thunk.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius and James questioned at the same time.

“I’ve gotta go.” You muttered miserably as you gathered your bag and stood from the Gryffindor bench.

“Where?!” James called after you. 

“To run away with the fucking centaurs at this point!” You called back before disappearing through the doors. 

“Since when does Regulus come to say hi to you, Pads?” Peter asked then, still watching Regulus from across the hall who now had his eyes glued to the door. 

Sirius, who up until that point looked just as bemused as Peter did, had a look of understanding dawn on his face. 

“Merlin’s beard.” He hissed as he smacked James in the arm from across the table.

“Ow! What? What? Why are you hitting me?” James called as he rubbed his arm protectively. 

“When was the last time you saw Y/N be reduced to awkward silence?” He asked then.

“At mum and dads fundraising gala when that wizard from Witch Weekly attended.” James answered quickly; knowing that one of his sister’s greatest strengths was her ability to talk (especially when it helped get them all out of trouble). “Though she’s been doing it an awful lot lately.”

“Like when you coerced Regulus into joining us at the Three Broomsticks last weekend.” Remus offered.

James nodded. “And when I made her come with me to scout the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin game last Monday.” 

“And when Regulus just happened to be looking for a Herbology textbook when she was studying in the Herbology section of the library.” Remus continued.

“Godric’s balls.” Peter breathed out, looking towards Sirius incredulously. “You’re not suggesting-”

“-that our littlest Potter has a big fat crush on the littlest Black? I sure am.” Sirius said smugly. 

“I don’t think she’s the only one with a ‘big fat crush’.” Remus added, nodding towards Regulus who was chewing aggressively on his lip, still looking in the direction you just went.

“Oh my Godric.” James hissed as he turned towards Sirius excitedly. “Oh my Godric, Pads! We’d be real life actual brother’s-in-law!” 

“I’m going to walk Reggie down the aisle.” Sirius added wistfully as he clutched at his chest. 

“Merlin and Morgana. They can’t even make it through a sodding conversation; stop planning their wedding.” Remus muttered as he turned a page in his book. 

James let out an incredibly dramatic gasp as he looked at Remus. “You’re right. We have to do something!” 

“What do you say, boys? Up for some mischief for the greater good?” Sirius asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow. 

“Operation turn Potter Black!” James cheered to the group, causing the three boys to look at him in various levels of bemusement and discomfort.

“Erm, Prongs…” Peter started.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Remus added.

“We can’t call it that.” Sirius agreed. 

“We’ll circle back to it.” James said as he stood from the table.

Sirius shared a slightly panicked look with the other two Marauders before standing as well. “No…no James, we really can’t call it that.” 

“It’ll be a placeholder until you guys think of something better!”

“Anything would be better.” Peter whined as they all trailed out of the Great Hall in the name of mischief. 

。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。.。:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+*ﾟ

“Quick! You’ve got to see what we’ve planned.” James had said to you as he grabbed you roughly by your arm outside of Transfiguration and hauled you in the direction of the library.

You allowed him to nearly drag you through the courtyard and into the central haul; apologising to students that you nearly collided with in his haste. 

“But…what did McLaggen do? Why are you pranking him?” You asked breathlessly as the two of you made it to the library doors.

“The bloke’s a prick, Trouble, do keep up.” Sirius called as you met up with him. 

The two boys ushered you through stacks of books towards the end of the library that held private study rooms when Remus and Peter materialised from a row of shelves.

“He’s coming!” Peter squeaked as Remus quickly redirected the three of you. 

“That way, quickly.” 

Knowing better than to question Remus, you allowed James to guide you by the shoulder towards one of the private study rooms in order to hide from McLaggen as he walked into their trap. 

Except…

Except no sooner had Sirius opened the door did James bodily shove you into the room before they slammed the door behind you.

“Wha- James!” You shouted as you heard him cast a locking charm and a muffliato around the door. 

“What are they up to now?” A tired voice sounded from behind you.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you realised what they had done, praying to every deity that the voice didn’t belong who you thought it belonged to. 

But of course, the deities didn’t give a bowtruckles arse about you, so you turned on the spot to see Regulus Black sitting at the end of the table looking at you with a sceptical expression and one perfectly arched brow. 

Godric, he was beautiful.

“Making my life hell.” You answered despondently. 

Regulus offered you a tight lipped smile as he nodded in understanding. “Ah, so, regular brother stuff then?”

You breathed out a chuckle as you nodded, trying once more at the door before giving up in your efforts to escape. 

“What did you do to get yourself locked in a room with me?” He asked then, fiddling with the tomes and notes in front of him.

“Had the audacity to be born into the Potter family, I guess.” You muttered.

Regulus made a non-committal sound as he considered you. “I’m sure a lot of people would have loved the honour.”

Your face softened as you looked at the Slytherin boy. “I know they’ve asked you already, but you should come, you know? I know Sirius would love it if you did, and my parents would too.” 

Regulus nodded slowly at you, though he never moved his gaze from your eyes. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Regulus smiled ruefully then. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t get the impression that you like me very much.”

You stood there with your mouth agape like some mute opera singer. “Okay, I’ll correct you then; you’re very wrong Regulus Black.”

“Oh, I’m very wrong, am I?” 

“Horribly so, I’m afraid; I can’t believe you’d even say such a thing.” You continued haughtily; finally sitting down in a chair across from him. 

“Well, you see, everyone is always telling me how much of a chatterbox you are, yet you never seem too keen on chatting with me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve exchanged more words with Mulciber at this point.” He teased.

“The most I ever talk to Mulciber is to tell him to go fuck himself!”

A divot formed between his brows as he tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not just your love language? I’ve heard you say the exact same thing to Potter and my brother.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned back in your chair. “Touche” 

Regulus smirked at you then. “So, why don’t you talk to me?”

You let out a heaving sigh and looked to the ceiling. 

You were trapped, and you knew why you were trapped, and you figured there was no use in pretending that you didn’t. 

“I suppose I find you a little…nerve wracking.” You settled for, figuring that telling him you thought he was so handsome that even standing within his vicinity seemed to short circuit not only your brain but somehow your entire nervous system would perhaps be a little much. 

“Oh good.” He responded, sounding truly relieved by your answer. “I thought it was only me.”

What? You thought stupidly.

“What?” You asked stupidly. 

“I find you a little nerve wracking too.” He responded.

“Me?” 

“You.”

“Why?” You nearly shrilled before remembering yourself and feeling immediately embarrassed for your theatrics.

“Well, I suppose for the same reasons you find me nerve wracking?” Regulus offered. “You’re really quite pretty, Y/N.” 

You swear to all of the gods that your brain made an audible record scratch sound at that moment as you tried to compute what he had said to you. 

He called you pretty, that much went without interpretation. But did he just insinuate that he knew you thought he was pretty?

“You do know that, right?” He asked, shaking you from your internal spiralling. 

“Know what?”

Regulus smirked then. “That you’re pretty?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms petulantly. “Of course I knew that; I just wasn’t aware that you did, too.” 

“Ah,” He started with a smile. “My apologies, I’ll make it more obvious that I find you attractive going forward.”

“Thank you.” You huffed.

“You’re very welcome.”

The two of you allowed a semi-comfortable silence to lap as he continued watching you and you continued looking anywhere else but him.

“So,” He interrupted eventually. “What now?” 

You tapped your arms in thought. “Now I figure out how to get back at my meddlesome brother.” 

Regulus hummed as he nodded his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Yeah…hey, do you happen to know where I could find a toad or two?”

“Yes, actually. I’m quite certain Evan and Barty are breeding some in the dungeons.” He answered with a look of ill-hidden discomfort at the thought.

“Do you think they’d let me borrow some?”

“Well that depends; would they be used for chaos and/or destruction?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly.

“Oh, well then absolutely.” He quipped back.

He smiled and held your gaze before leaning on his arms against the table. “How about this? I’ll ask Barty and Evan for some of their toads, if you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend.”

You narrowed your eyes as you pretended to think about it before extending your hand across the table. “Deal.”

He shook your hand as he offered you a crooked smile before leaning back into his seat.

The door popped open just enough for your brother to poke his traitorous head in. “Are you guys in love yet?”

He barely had time to pull his head out of the frame and shut the door as you hurled your book bag at him; the blunt force instrument you had hoped would at the very least incapacitate your brother simply thudding against the wall before falling to the ground in a sad heap.

“You know he’s just going to keep you locked in here longer for that, right?” Regulus asked you then.

You made a non-committal sound as you settled back into your chair. “Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.”

[shroomdreams]

propagation 2: Ruan Mei

CW: Cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, monsterfucking, oviposition (Ruan Mei gets eggpreg), breeding kink, reader can be interpreted as any gender (you have an ovipositor)

A/N: I don’t even have the words to describe how unhinged this got. I wrote nearly all of this in the Notes App and only just recently transferred it somewhere else. I hope you guys enjoy this behemoth of a part 2. 2.9k words

It has been a little over a year ago since you found yourself on Herta Space Station. Shortly after Ruan Mei had visited the station and left, she found herself exploring an abandoned planet, where the only signs of life were plants and some creatures that had yet to be analyzed. Ruan Mei thought that would simply be it, until she found you. She found you scavenging what appears to be a broken spaceship for parts, tearing off metal with your bare hands. You noticed her presence, but said nothing, turning your back to her and walking off into the wilderness.

After that, Ruan Mei started a little base of operations on the planet. She was a scientist, first and foremost, and a member of the Genius Society for a reason. Not only was she analyzing the creatures on the planet, she had been making an effort to get on your good side. You intrigued her, after all. There was something more to you than your appearance suggested, and she intended to find out what that is. It started off with small gestures. She would find you at the wrecked spaceship, offer you food, and watch you walk off. It's no surprise that you would be distrustful of her, since it's possible that she is the first and only human you have seen. However, her eyes lit up when you didn't walk off into the wilderness like you usually do, instead following her towards her base of operations.

It took a few weeks, but she had managed to teach you Standard Galactic Common, since she didn't have a Synesthesia Beacon on hand. From then on, you followed her around whenever she went out to explore, since you knew the area better than her you helped her out in some situations.

However, she would soon have no more interest in this abandoned planet, and would make preparations to leave. "Thank you for your help these past few months, snowdrop," Ruan Mei smiled. "This little expedition wouldn't have been as successful without your help."

"You're welcome." You say, though your face is marred with a frown. "...Does this mean you will leave now?"

"Not now." Ruan Mei shook her head. "It will be a while before a transport ship comes to pick me up."

"I see..."

Now Ruan Mei is aware that she isn't the best at emotions. Her stint in Herta Space Station made her truly realize that that is something she should be working on. And right now, she sees the frown on your face, how you look to the side with furrowed eyebrows and a twitchy leg. A thought occurs to her head.

"Snowdrop, would you like to come with me?"

"What?"

"I... Don't recall ever seeing the village you keep telling me about," Ruan Mei replied. "And I did not want to bring it up, since you might have your own reasons for not showing me, but I want to ask. Was it ever real?"

"..."

She continues. "Come with me. I know a place that might be more suitable for you."

"...Are you certain?" You hesitantly ask. "I... I'm not-"

You're momentarily cut off when Ruan Mei suddenly grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes. You flush.

"I promise you that you'll be taken care of there. Of course, you'll have to do some work… But don't you think it's better than living here?" The words seem to tumble out her mouth, almost clunky sounding. But Ruan Mei is pleased to see you nod.

That's how you find yourself awkwardly gripping a pen and writing down an application form for Herta Space Station while Ruan Mei makes idle chatter with the owner herself. After taking your measurements, you find yourself in a room in the Seclusion Zone, near the place where Ruan Mei stashed her confectionery creations. She sits down next to you, and you suddenly feel like curling into the corner, her scent overwhelming you. You could hear your heart hammering in your chest, drowning out the silence.

"So... This is where we part ways for now." Ruan Mei starts, staring at the wall. You nod. "You'll have to work hard here."

"...Ruan Mei, I..."

You see yourself reflected in those deep, cyan eyes of hers. She always seemed to be staring at something far away whenever you talked to her, keeping her vision pointed to the most interesting sight to dissect. But right now, she stares back at you. Body moving on its own, you press a chaste kiss to her lips, and another, and another... Until you end up with Ruan Mei laying on top of you, breathing ever so slightly. The soft pink glow of her cheeks, her sparkling eyes, the way her hair tickles your face... She cups your face and steals a final kiss.

Of course, she had to leave at some point, but not before giving you a direct line of communication to her. One email a month, maybe a brief conversation when Ruan Mei isn't so busy. You get into a routine at the Space Station, and soon enough you become a respectable worker with a decent enough reputation, despite being Madam Herta's brand new specimen. Thankfully, being stationed at the bottom part of the station gives you a lot of privacy. Life has become much more stable than your time on the jungle planet.

...Which is why you've suddenly locked yourself inside your room. You've immediately sent out a notice to your supervisor that you will be indisposed for a very long time. Ruan Mei stopped receiving your responses for three weeks.

A growl escapes you as you grind down on the pillow between your legs, trying your damnedest to grab some kind of relief. Blankets and other soft materials have been ripped open and stuffed with eggs, that will thankfully never hatch... Shifting your legs, you accidentally drop your camouflage when the door to your room suddenly slides open. Hidden in the darkness, you hiss out in alarm. But before you could lash out, you suddenly catch a whiff of that familiar, sweet scent.

"Snowdrop?"

That voice was almost enough to snap you out of the stupor clouding your mind. Almost. Your arms quickly grab the entity and pull them into the room, pinning their arms to the wall as the door shuts tight, leaving your eyes to glow in the darkness. "...Mei..." Her name sounds so foreign, your mandibles clicking together as you stare at her. "You came back..."

"I had to," She whispered, looking at you with a curious gleam. "You stopped responding, and Herta told me you went crazy."

"She isn't wrong." You sighed, leaning in and inhaling her scent as another pair of arms pop from your abdomen, gingerly touching Ruan Mei's sides. Despite the new sensations, Ruan Mei keeps calm, allowing your arms to hold her in place. "It's... The Propagation. Every other month or so, my body feels the urge to- well, Propagate. But it's stronger now, and if I had to guess-"

"It's because of me." Ruan Mei finishes. "I understand."

You can't help but shudder as you hesitantly pull Ruan Mei close. "I... It's a big thing to ask of you, but... Please help me." You whispered. "You can do whatever you want- I just need to-"

Ruan Mei cuts you off by leaning her head to where your mouth should be, taking one of your mandibles with her tongue and licking it. A surge of heat courses through you, your arms lifting one of Ruan Mei's legs and hooking it over your waist, grinding against her as you hold her close. That was enough confirmation for you, as you lay her down on your nest- er, bed.

First to go were her accessories, one pair of hands setting them aside as your other pair slowly slid off Ruan Mei's dress, followed by her shoes. The only piece of clothing left was her garter belt, which completes the beautiful sight in front of you. Though her expression remained largely the same, there was a red hue coloring Ruan Mei's cheeks as you slid between her legs, mandibles tenderly inspecting her inner thighs as you looked up at her. "Once I get started, I won't be able to stop so easily..." You murmured, leaning your head against Ruan Mei's thigh. "So... I'm asking again. May I Propagate with you, Ruan Mei?"

Ruan Mei leans back and wiggles her hips in response, her pussy glistening ever so slightly. "Give me your all, snowdrop." Hissing, your tongue extends outward to lick at her folds. It's unclear if it was your actions or Ruan Mei's own arousal that made her core soaked. Either way, your tongue glides over her labia, quickly getting addicted to the nectar weeping from her slit. "Mmnh~" Ruan Mei sighs, her legs trembling as you drink in her essence, held apart by your arms. She gasps when one of your arms reaches over to play with her breast, rolling your fingers over her hardening nipple. "Ah~!" Ruan Mei cried out as you plunged your tongue deep inside, chirping as you felt her walls throbbing around the wet muscle. You shift positions a bit, sitting up and holding Ruan Mei's hips to your face.

A series of moans and sighs are drawn out from your beloved scientist's mouth as you drive your tongue in and out of her pussy, her slick and your saliva dribbling down into the sheets below. She could feel her body growing hotter as two wispy shapes appear right above where her womb is located, whining when she feels you brush up against a rather sensitive spot. Ruan Mei shakily reaches towards you, but then throws her head back with a cry as you shove your face deep into her cunt, your tongue brutally rubbing against her walls and causing more of her juices to seep out. "Ah! Ah! Ohhhhh aeons! Aaaah!~" Her hips stutter against your face as she feels her release wash over her, covering your face with her cum. Gasps and moans escape from Ruan Mei as you remove your tongue,  pleased to see her sprawled out on the sheets. "H-Have... Have you finished the preparation?" She asked. Ah, that's your clever girl. You reach down and start teasing the space between your legs.

Ruan Mei's eyes go wide as she watches a strange appendage emerge from your cloaca, its appearance making her drool. So girthy... Would she be able to fit that inside, even with your help? You sigh as you position yourself at her entrance. This shouldn't hurt her too much. You hold her hips. "I'll... Go slow." You growled, stamping down your impatience. "Please tell me if it starts feeling bad."

Seeing her nod, you slowly start pushing inside, snarling and buzzing as you inch deep in her cunny. Ruan Mei feels the air being knocked out of her as you cozy up against her walls. "Ah- Ahhh! S-So... Huge...!" She hissed out, legs shaking as you finally bottomed out, her cunt stretched and filled with your length. You're entirely certain that her hips would be bruised from how tight you were gripping them. Meanwhile, your other hands play with her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples. Ruan Mei pushes her hips against yours. "P-Please, snowdrop. Move." She whimpered, casting a needy look to you. "I want your eggs inside me. Please."

Your resolve snaps. The room fills with a symphony of slaps and moans, inhuman noises produced from your vocal chords as you roughly thrust into Ruan Mei's pussy, her walls constricting around your rod like a vice. Ruan Mei arches her back as you pound her sweet cunt, her poor breasts continue to be toyed with as you continue your movements. Your mind devolves, pure instinct takes hold of you as you your hips roughly slam into Ruan Mei. Whines escape from Ruan Mei as you rut against her, her fingers entangled in the sheets as she takes the harsh movements of your body. In your lust-addled mind, you notice her pussy fluttering around you and her moans getting louder, a sure sign she was nearing her release. It was a good thing that the two of you are in the seclusion zone now...

You slide your arms underneath Ruan Mei and pull her close as your thrusts grow sloppy, a series of clicks and chirps intertwining with Ruan Mei's cries. "I'm- *chitter* I'm gonna lay them inside you-" You gritted out. "Hold on tight-" Ruan Mei squeals when she feels a strange pressure growing at the base of your cock, her hands flying towards your carapacian body as a round object starts making its way into her body, instinctually trying to back away but unable to.

The knot in her belly comes undone as she sprays her release on your stomach, the egg settling inside her womb as Ruan Mei screams in a mixture of pleasure and alarm, foreign feelings of pure lust and want wrapping around her mind as you lay three more eggs inside. You huff, preparing to draw your hips back. Though this was the first time you’ve done such a thing with a human, you have enough awareness of your own body to know that you’re supposed to fertilize them after the eggs have been laid inside.

What happens instead is Ruan Mei’s legs swinging over your hips and pulling you back, causing you to let out a screech as you plunge deep inside her. You look down at her, and realize that you might have gone a little too far. Hey eyes stare back at you with an ocean of need behind them, whimpers and pleas tumbling out of her mouth. “W-Where do you think you’re going?” She gasped out, looping her arms around your neck and pulling you in to lick at your mandibles. “We’re not done yet, aren’t we?”

“R-Ruan Mei, let go-” You hissed out, trying to pull out. “I- I won’t be able to- Hmm~” Her walls flutter around your length.

“You wanted to Propagate with me, didn’t you?” She questioned, and you had to double take when you saw that she was actually pouting. “Propagate with me then.”

“I… You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” Ruan Mei says nothing in return, instead bucking her hips up to further entice you. You snarl. “Just- Just promise me that you’ll stay here? Please? Stay u-until- *huff* until they come out- Haaah-” Your hips start moving on their own accord, building back up momentum as you feel yourself throb in Ruan Mei’s snug walls. Soon enough, Ruan Mei lets out a hoarse cry as your release coats her walls, arching her back as she rides out her second orgasm.

You eventually pull out and sit back, chittering in pure satisfaction as sleep overtakes Ruan Mei, the combined puddle of your fluids staining the sheets. Her stomach bulged ever so slightly, the mark of Propagation glowing on her skin. You’re not… Entirely certain on how to navigate this with everyone else. But as you lay back down and pull Ruan Mei in for a hug, mandible gently touching her face, you decide that you’re ready for whatever happens next.

The next three months, Ruan Mei spends her time in the Seclusion Zone, sitting in the lounge area with her creations while you take care of them. She also discussed with Herta on building proper accommodations for your children, which Herta agrees. You’re somewhat worried that Herta might have ulterior motives for accepting such a deal, but Ruan Mei reassured you that everything will be fine. At the end of three months, Ruan Mei holds on to your hand for dear life as she lays your eggs, shakily holding them in her arms while you proudly chitter at her.

Soon enough, the eggs hatch, and Ruan Mei watches in fascination as the Stings crawl towards her. “How interesting… Despite the fact that I am just their incubator, they seem to recognize who I am.” She murmurs, watching as a baby Sting curls up in her lap, while the other Stings crawl on her arms.

“Well, you did give birth to them after all,” you reply, dropping your human look as you gather a few Stings. “The Propagation is a parth born of loneliness, and.. I’m very happy that I’m not alone anymore.” Ruan Mei smiles and leans in for a kiss, which translates to holding one of your mandibles in her mouth.

OMAKE:

While you and Ruan Mei have a moment with your children, Herta and Screwllum have a discussion about the many oddities the Space Station is hosting.

“Your extensive curio collection, Ruan Mei’s creations, and now descendants of the Swarm. You truly attract a wide range of phenomena, Herta.” Said Screwllum. Herta shrugs.

“Hey, I’m not complaining if Ruan Mei wants to play family here. Besides, I am curious about the Swarm outside the Simulated Universe.”

“Hypothesis: Ruan Mei would not take kindly to you using her ‘children’ in experiments.”

“Oh relax! I just want to run a few tests on them, gather data, and just leave them to do whatever they want-”

“Is that why I’ve been hearing that you’re planning on enrolling them to Little Star Cluster Daycare?”

“Please, as if they’re going to that dingy old place. No, I’m just nabbing a few teachers from Beneva’s Learning Institute and having them teach the kids here.”

“And Ruan Mei agreed?”

“Well, yeah. Buuut she also said she might be staying here indefinitely until they’re at least old enough to look like human children.”

The two Genius do not notice Arlan running after Asta in the background, screaming about how she shouldn’t just buy an entire nursery’s worth of toys.

[moondirti]

animalic (2)

← chapter 1 // series masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader rating: mature word count: 2.2k summary: a game of cat and mouse warnings: enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, guns, death, blood, angst, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as ‘wraith’) notes: remember when i said part 2 would take a while? i lied. the next chapter is fun as all hell so i wanted to churn this one out as build up. teehee i hope yall like it regardless

He let you go. 

He let you go. 

No matter how Miguel tries to vindicate it, he rounds back to the same conclusion. You weren’t subtle, regardless of what you’d have yourself believe; he’d seen the calculations glaze over your eyes the instant he pinned you to the wall. He knew what was coming, how your heavy breathing was a cover for the clicks of his watch – of which he heard regardless – and your squirming a diversion from the movement of your busy fingers. He had a goddamn plan too, a fail safe in case you decided to attack instead of listening to reason. 

(One he’d settled on for the duration of your lost consciousness, for knowledge that you would.)

So, there is no dismissing it. You’re obnoxious and lack precision, and he could have had you halfway back home by now, which isn’t the case – because he let you go.  

The frigid air of his office thrums with irritation, weighing down on his shoulders until they collapse inwards, his hands coming up to rub the weariness off his expression. HQ has been unsettlingly quiet as of late – occupied by only a fraction of its regular population – and the peace worries him. History betrays its status as the precursor to havoc; lulls in the past have fooled him into believing his mission was drawing to a close, only for another anomaly, another mess, to spin that naivety on its head. 

You were one such instance. A year ago, you’d popped up on an Earth that wasn’t your own, and didn’t leave until you’d drawn all that you could from it. It’s an empty husk now, lacking land to propagate its agriculture. Thousands – millions – dead, from the flap of a butterfly’s wings.

Parasite. A fucking parasite who just won’t quit. 

The mantra surges through him, festering from the base of his gut to the cap of his tongue. It bursts out with a roar right then, the sudden violence finding monitors thrown across the room, smashed to bits of orange light and static. It does nothing to sate him, though, the heady anger filtering out like molasses. His back hunches as he draws in thin breaths. He doesn’t count, nor does he attempt to. Instead, he looks for his only real decompressor. 

The video of Gabriella flickers at him from a distant floor, the transparent tablet wrecked with four distinct claw marks. He exhales, pulling it back to the platform with an extended web. 

“Boss,” 

His mija smiles toothily down at his digital self, winding her small palms in his hair for balance as he carries her. He recalls helping with hers, tying it back into shabby ponytails the mornings before a big game. How she wouldn’t let anyone fix it afterwards, not until her elastic slipped off the ends and her bangs hindered her playing. And she’d run to him, whenever, to get it fixed again. 

“Boss.” 

Her jokes resonate still, echoing laughter from when she’d poke fun at how bad he’d gotten at it, amused by the sudden decline in ability. To Miguel, it was one more reminder that the life he led wasn’t his own. 

“Oh Miguel!” 

So much for calming down.

“Lyla.” He looks up at the virtual assistant, her corporeal character a little fuzzy around the edges. She chooses to ignore his dissociative episode, rather projecting a map of the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse, a point off centre highlighted in red. His heart skips. Placing the tablet down on his desk, he takes a step closer to survey the pin.

“Managed to track the Wraith down using the day pass you’d given her. Currently stationed on Earth-15, no signs of jumping anytime soon.” 

Parasitic, and stupid enough to forgo destroying a potential tracking device.

Lyla snickers, seemingly able to read the sneer pulling at his cheeks. 

“Seems like she’s afraid of glitching more so than she is you, Boss.” 

His glare snaps to meet her heart shaped sunglasses. 

“Funny.” His assistant shrugs at his admonishment. “Pull up the anomaly cam.” 

A second later, your figure blinks into sight. 

You’re crouched atop a tiled floor, the grout darkened to near-black with grime. In front of you lies a sparse spread of medical supplies; gauze, scissors, and miniature packets of disinfectant wipes. Miguel can’t help but wonder what you think you’re doing, treating your wounds in a bathroom as unsanitary as the one that cramps you. Graffiti littered walls, nests of used paper towels in every corner. You spring up to wash your hands after undoing the old bandages that hugged your forearm, but all that comes out is an inconsistent splutter of grey water. 

His chest twinges, a tug of intrinsic sympathy playing against him. It worsens at the sight of your injury, the consequences of his talons’ assault on you, the puncture points brimming yellow and blackening closer to their middles. He can’t tell whether it’s gotten any better, whether you were good and had it treated by a professional, or made the common mistake of relying too much on your enhanced healing. 

“Gave her a harsh gig there. You always that rough?” 

“When I need to be.” Miguel murmurs, skimming over the conspicuous innuendo.

“Right. Until it comes to finishing the job, that is.” And, despite the offence taken to Lyla’s jest, he can hardly disagree. Newfound resolve hardens within him, sympathy fleeting at its failure to deter him. 

“Set coordinates for Earth-15.” He rumbles, gesturing to his wrist as he walks away. The assistant does as she’s told, shrinking back to an icon on his watch. While waiting for the portal to configure, Miguel cocks his head, taking one last look at your oblivious form. 

“I won't let her get away this time.” 

“Put the money in the fucking bag or she gets it!”

Of all the spider-people you’ve met, you don’t believe any have been the hostage in an armed robbery situation. You imagine that they’d come in at the last minute, valiantly swinging through the window, accentuating their arrival in a shower of shattered glass. They’d demand the money be remitted, and all’s well that ends well. But – of course – there’s got to be a first for everything; your record just so happens to be the lamest of the bunch. 

The masked man presses the gun further into your temple, bursting capillaries until the spot starts to ache with a raw tenderness. His body wraps around you, other arm waving wildly outwards, extending a plastic bag to the poor soul behind the register. You take a great gulp of air, staring at the buzzing fluorescents above, and pray. 

Lord, now would be a really good time to phase out. 

“P-Please, leave her be.” The owner throws a potful of crumpled fives into the bag, as if to punctuate her plea. The man is dismissive in face, urging her for more, shaking the receptacle with comedic insistence. You purse your lips, blinking up at the ceiling once more. 

Or make this more exciting, at the very least. 

“And you!” You’re jolted out of being a passive observer, rattled when the man diverts his attention to you. His gun thrusts harder against your forming bruise, adding to the list of damages sustained in the past week alone. You peer at him from the corner of your eye. His roll incredulously, pointing to the bill in your grip. “The twenty!” 

“Is that a real gun?” 

“Wha– Of course it’s a real fucking gun! Put the money–” 

“In the bag. I know.” 

His hold on you slackens, expectant. By contrast, you ball your fist and punch him square in the nose. The hit sends him reeling farther than it should for the amount of space you had in winding back, the feat prompting a deluge of pride to wash over you. It’s bolstered when he drops the spoils in the process, toppling into a rack of chips and cup noodles that consequently cushion his fall. 

Your first save. 

Filled with bravado, you snatch and pass over the bag to the cashier. 

“Here you go, ma’am.” 

But she doesn’t look at you. Rather, her stare remains trained on the man you’d just disabled. Nerves maturating, you join her line of vision, only to be met with the barrel end of his weapon. You catch the vicious conclusion in the way his hand trembles, veins protruding from the pale skin, supplying courage to the finger hovering right over the trigger. You process it all, aware of the ways it can end, at how fast it can sour.  

Before you can so much as act on it, he shoots. 

Your skin prickles. 

You’ve heard stories of people who don’t realise when a bullet strikes them. Their bodies take time to catch up to the pain, cells stuck in paralytic shock, stimulus signals held somewhere between the existential and a will to delay the inevitable. You think you understand what they mean, your mind dragging in a rare bout of silence. Things slow, for a perennial moment, and you wonder how fast the blood loss will kill you.

You can do nothing but follow the man, who scrambles to a stand, letting him take the money – with whatever else – and watching as he runs out onto the street. 

And even still, the pain hasn’t caught up to you. 

Looking down, the case starts piecing itself together. No blood sticks to your shirt, the fabric still as pristine as it had been upon purchase. You check your arms, then your legs, then reach up to smooth over your head. Nothing. You’re okay.

The relief is short-lived when the morbid sound of gurgling meets your ears. Slowly, you turn, bracing for what you knew you’d find.  

The scene unfolds with a distressing intensity as crimson liquid blooms from the cashier’s throat. The torrent is never-ending, every gush of ichor bringing forth a new momentum, splattering its macabre scene over the register. Her eyes gloss over with an unshed panel of tears, and she looks to you for help. 

She looks to you. 

(You don’t admit it to yourself, but it’s the novelty of that fact that pushes you into action.) 

With a swift leap over the counter, you intercept her mid-fall, carefully cradling her weight as you guide her down to the ground. Scanning your surroundings, you search for a means to call for help. A rotary phone catches your recognition, situated a ways off by the back exit. Despite the inconvenient placement, it stands as your sole option at this stage.

In a split second decision, you sling your backpack off, hastily rummaging through its contents. You find solace in your hoodie, gathering its folds to tightly bunch it up, converting it into a makeshift compress.  Knowing she lacks the strength to apply pressure to the wound, you move to wrap it around her neck, hopeful that it’s tight enough to stem the bleeding while leaving enough room for air. 

Urgency fuelling your every step, you leave her side for a fleeting moment, dashing over to call an ambulance. Your medical knowledge only extends so far, and some selfish part of you itches to pass on the responsibility to someone more competent. It’s an impulse that derives from an innate acceptance, that resoundingly insightful voice in your head telling you it's too late. That she’s already dead, had been from the moment the bullet – that was meant for you – missed. 

Perhaps your help isn’t really helpful at all, then. Perhaps it’s your attempt to wash your hands of the sin. You think back to the grey water in the bathroom, how exasperated you had been at your inability to stay clean. 

(You don’t think you’ll ever rid yourself of this.) 

“911, what’s your emergency?” The question crackles through the receiver.

The bell by the entrance jingles, the chime accompanied by heavy footsteps. You press yourself against the wall, the concept of the robber returning filling you with such dread that you feel your stomach tighten and congeal. It’s a heavy lump, icy cold and slippery, and it seems to weigh a hundred pounds.

“Hello?” The operator says. 

But if it was the man, then he'd have to have changed into a navy and red suit. Somehow, your terror worsens. 

“Hijo de la chingada…” The whisper is barely legible, but the deep baritone is discernible enough to validate the assumption pulled from your brief glimpse. You’d recognise him anywhere. 

Shrinking in on yourself, you cup your palm over your mouth. “Hello,” 

“Ma’am? Can you describe your emergency?” 

“There was an armed robbery at the convenience off sixth and Third. Someone’s hurt.” You hardly register the words as they escape you, eyeing Miguel when he crouches over the lady. You’re propelled back to the conclusion of your last meeting; how his claws tore into you, how his persistence didn't falter until you pressed yourself onto him. 

That kiss. 

He runs a finger over your hoodie-turned-compress, wavering, like he can’t quite place where he’d seen it before. 

Or, maybe he can, for he spins to meet your wide-eyed stare. 

You drop the phone, bolting out the back door, charged on a paroxysm of adrenaline and pure, unadulterated panic.

chapter 3 →

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[graysoncritic]

A (Negative) Analysis of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Introduction

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

I want to start this essay by admitting I’m actually embarrassed by its length. Why did I spend so much time on something I dislike? The truth is, I did not begin this with the intention of creating such an extensive, formal study of the Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing run and how it reflects the wider problems with DC’s handling of one of their most iconic characters. I was just trying to organize the thoughts that came up during discussions with other Dick Grayson fans. Before I knew it, I had enough material, enough desire to challenge myself, and enough frustrations to vent to properly create this monstrosity.

I did not begin this Nightwing run determined to hate it. In fact, I was ready to love it. As Taylor promoted the run before the first issue was officially released, I was so excited for it. As I read short interviews where he discussed Heartless, I could not wait to have a new, incredible villain. Foolishly, I believed Taylor when he said he loved Dick Grayson. 

Needless to say, I was disappointed. Then frustrated. Then angry. The beginning of any story is a period where writer and reader form an indirect bond, and as the story progresses, so do the highs and the lows of said relationship. As such, a reader’s tolerance for negative factors will either increase or decrease depending on their experience up until that point.

In other words, if the writer fails to earn the reader’s trust and instead takes their attention for granted, even seemingly insignificant details become irritating in a way they would not be if presented in a better story. In such scenarios, the reader can no longer overlook those minor moments because there’s little good to balance them out with. It is a death by a thousand cuts. 

In the case of Taylor and Redondo’s run, along with those thousand cuts are also broken bones, internal bleeding, head trauma, and severed limbs. A weak plot, simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, and, most importantly, a careless disregard for Dick Grayson and everything he stands for utterly destroyed my enjoyment of this series. 

It is still too early to tell what sort of impact Taylor’s (as of time of writing, still unfinished) run will have on Dick Grayson’s future portrayals. But just because we cannot predict its long term significance, it does not mean we cannot critique it. Currently, we simply lack the benefit of hindsight. 

If this essay were to have a thesis, then it is this: Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing not only fails to tell a compelling Nightwing story, but it also exemplifies a cynical, self-serving, and shallow approach to storytelling that prioritizes creating hollow viral moments to boost the creators’ own online popularity over crafting a good story, honoring the character in their care, and respecting his fans – fans who have, historically, often been women, queer folk, and other individuals who felt othered by a cisheteronormative patriarchal society. Taylor and Redondo’s thoughtless and superficial narrative not only undermine the socially progressive ideals they supposedly care for by propagating a cisheteronormative patriarchal worldview, but they also demonstrate a lack of love and understanding for the character in their care. At best, Taylor and Redondo have no interest in getting to know Dick Grayson, nor any respect for their predecessor and their contributions to this character. At worst, they despise Dick so much that they wish to reinvent him into something completely different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to appeal to a readership that never cared about Dick Grayson. 

I structured this essay so that, hopefully, each part will build on the ones that came prior. Naturally, because all aspects of a story are interlaced, there will be overlaps between each of the sections. As it may have become obvious from this introduction, I’ll be focusing primarily on the writing of this run. That is not to say that I will not address the art, but writing is the field I know most about, and so it feels only fair to focus my critique on that. 

I hope that by the end of this essay, I will have successfully proved that this run’s mishandling of different narrative elements betray a cynical appropriation of progressive ideology and a disregard and disinterest in what makes Dick Grayson so special to so many people. This is an attitude that is present within DC Comics’ current ethos as a whole.

Now, who is this essay for? Honestly, it’s probably not for Tom Taylor fans. I do not believe I’ll be persuading anyone with my writing, and, to be quite honest, neither would I say I wish to do so. Taylor and Redondo’s run has won numerous awards and has many dedicated fans who adore it for what it is. If that is you, then I’m glad. I wish I could be among your numbers. I wish more than anything that I could love this story. But I do not, and I know many others agree with me, and it is to them, I think, that I’m speaking to. As Taylor’s run is praised to heaven and back, I needed a safe space to voice my thoughts. This essay became this safe space. And to others who also feel unseen by the constant praise this run is getting, I think this could speak to you, as well. To be cliche and cringe, this will hopefully let you know that you are not alone. 

Finally, I want to acknowledge some people whose thoughts greatly contributed to the creation of this essay. For around three years now I’ve been having wonderful interactions with other Dick Grayson’s fans, and those discussions were not only incredibly fun and cathartic, but also provided great insight into what needed to be included in this essay. My best friend especially gave me a space to vent when I got frustrated, and my original outline borrowed a lot from the messages I sent her, as well as notes I took for our discussions.  

I’ll also be directly quoting four different Dick Grayson fans (identified as Dick Grayson Fans A, B, and C in order to allow them to keep their anonymity). Their analyses were so critical to the formation of my thesis and for a lot of what will be addressed in this essay that I actually feel like they deserve co-credit in this essay. Dick Grayson Fan B especially deserves a shoutout in helping me track down a couple of pages used as supporting evidence, as I knew what pages I was looking for but was having a hard time remembering in which issue they were located. I’m quoting them with permission, and crediting their ideas and contributions whenever relevant. 

Now, without any further ado, let’s get started. 

[lizdive]

saw ur inbox is open so i jumped right into the opportunity 🤭 just recently discovered ur blog and AUGH i love your writing!! the lack of platonic stuff is a CRIME.. 💔

could i request something with aventurine being an older (adoptive) brother to teen reader? if you want some extra lore, the ipc basically found the reader and wanted to use their powers for themselves cuz theyre like- crazy op- 😭 (reincarnation of an aeon typa shit) so they placed the reader into aventurine's care bcuz he was the only person they weren't hostile towards-

SORRY THIS GOT A LITTLE LONG ?! you don't need to use the extra lore if you dont want to btw! i just put it there :3

can be either hcs or a oneshot/drabble, u can choose!! >_<

please and thank u!!!! (ゝω・´★)

YOU’RE SO SWEET YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME ILUSM ☹️🩷🤍 Aventurine is my everything I love when people send me reqs about him he’s never left my team since I’ve gotten him 😭 ALSO I LOVE THE EXTRA LORE I LOVE UR BRAIN LEMME KISS IT MWAH 💋 tysm for requesting <33 if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo this 🫶

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" + "they/them" used to refer to the reader ,, reader is a teenager but is implied to be ancient ,, reader is implied to be a part of tayzzyronth — aeon of the propagation — and can be up for interpretation, however they do have swarm abilities ,, i did some research on tayzzyronth however there may be things that are not accurate or do not align with canon as tayzzyronth and the swarm is very confusing ,, reader grows a hatred for qlipoth — aeon of the preservation and their followers aka the ipc ,, platonic relationships ,, ipc activities as usual ,, penacony mission at the end ,, i feel like i derived from og request i’m sososo sorry ,, ending is cringe ngl ,, this is not proofread so ignore typos

Bugs, insects, flies — you do not know what these creatures are referred to as. You do not know of their origin, and you do not know if you are one of them taking a different form. They treat you as if you are one of them and protect you like you are their ruler.

The planet you reside on is dark. There is no other being except for these creatures that swarm you like you are their creator and their savior. You rarely move. Your cheek has grown accustomed to the cracked grounds of this wasteland as you slumber for periods of time you know not the length of. It is gray, yet you sometimes spot the colorful liquid that leaves their bodies as they succumb to the eternal slumber you sometimes seek.

There is no coldness and there is no hotness — you are always warm. They blanket you with their wings and speak to you in a language you have learned to understand.

"The followers of Qlipoth are coming!" they would say, and yet you did not know who they spoke of. The concept of beings existing that are not you or the insects that flutter about bringing you sustenance and company is foreign, and your young mind cannot comprehend it without physical proof. You assume they jest as they always do to try and humor you, and so you do not acknowledge their warnings.

"The followers of Qlipoth have come, you must leave!" And yet you chose to remain on the cracked grounds that have filled your sight for the many years you have lived. You chose to remain under their wings which shielded you as they fought against Qlipoth’s devout to keep them away from your form.

They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hear the shrieks of your swarm. They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hear the loud explosions which cause the frail floors to crack more and more. They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hold a baby bug in your arms like a toy to sooth the bubbling feeling of fear which is so foreign to you.

They are not weak, you realize, as you feel their hands pull at you from beneath the pile of dead creatures, doing their best to fight off the hallucinations from their wings.

These people — the followers of Qlipoth — are enemies. They do not deserve what the insects would call 'mercy'. The chains which cling to some of your joints barely hold you back as you scream at them in what sounds to them like gibberish. Your body is weak from the lack of movement, yet what you consider weakness is considered as strength that was once unattainable to them.

"If I didn’t know of the swarm I’d assume they were an abomination of the abundance," a woman speaks, yet her words mean nothing to you for you cannot understand them. You do not know who spoke, and you do not care. They are all enemies, and this 'Qlipoth' that they follow will be struck down by your own hands one day. They follow this being and therefor this being is the one to order them to do such horrendous acts.

You make an attempt to flutter the thin wings that decorate your back but they feel heavy. You look back and find them to be hidden away and chained. You do not feel the pain, but perhaps it is just the adrenaline rushing through you.

"Did you really have to cover them up like that?" "The workers said that they were hallucinating, we couldn’t risk it."

A gloved hand is placed in front of you. There is nothing in it. The golden rings shine under the lighting of the room you are in. The shimmer is new to your eyes and makes you squint from the reflecting light. You are used to the dullness of your 'home' planet, so when you look up to properly face the man who seems innocent enough, you recoil at the brightness off his appearance.

The many layers of clothes he adorns makes you curious. You do not wear much, only enough to properly cover you. The insects would keep you warm. Yet he wears so much — so many layers of attire made from materials you didn’t even know existed.

Your rage and hostility is pacified with curiosity, and that makes his smile a bit more genuine. He brings a hand to your head, and you’re ready to tear him to shreds should he try anything, but he only pets you gently. It reminds you of when the insects would nudge your head whenever they wanted you to wake up.

The sense of familiarity makes your eyes water but you do not shed the tears. You don’t like how they blind your sight and you blink rapidly to make them go away. The man clad in bright colors says something, but you once again can’t understand him.

But when the suffocating chains no longer cling to your tender skin, you understand that he is safe like those that cared for you and he is trying to comfort you. It works.

The man is named Aventurine — he repeated it constantly until you finally said it, albeit with the accent of a toddler. Still, he praised you. When he smiled and pat your head, you felt happy. It was a good thing.

You follow Aventurine around. He is the only one you have familiarized yourself with. He gets frightened by the swarm that follows you, so you scold them whenever they show themselves unannounced. You do not want him to leave you — you’ve noticed it happens a lot as you are exposed to human beings. He tells you he won’t leave you, how you’re his responsibility now.

You only understand a little bit of what he speaks, but you want to learn more to get more head pats and praise. The language they use is very foreign and requires much more effort to sound out the words as well as memorizing the symbols they write with. It is a lot of effort, but Aventurine is very encouraging.

Aventurine is nice. He is patient. He is understanding. He is helpful. You have been told that the one who has given you your strength was born from loneliness, but if that was the case, them shouldn’t your abilities be gone by now? Because with Aventurine, you do not feel lonely.

You want to tell him this, and one day you will. But for now, you’ll sit in his office, dressed in the nice clothing he has bought for you, and continue to practice your speech and writing.

You do not like leaving his office, because Qlipoth’s devout will then try to talk to you. You have tried many times to send your swarm after them, and you have succeeded many times, but Aventurine always scolds you. You do not like it when he scolds you. It’s a bad thing.

He tries to get you accustomed to human society. It is hard, especially because the human society he tries to make you interact with is filled with Qlipoth’s followers, but for him, you will try.

For him, you will listen to them as they order you to send your swarm to terrorize planets littered with precious material. For him, you will listen to them as blood stains your hands — blood which is not yours. For him, you will allow others to call you a monster which he reassures you that you aren’t.

For him, you will let yourself become the tool Qlipoth’s devout want you to become.

Something you have noticed and have been taught about human society is the concept that is family. You have heard the term many times, especially on this planet called Penacony. The main heads of this big hotel are called The Family. The head of The Family is the brother of his sister. You make sure to remember that.

Aventurine tells you to keep your features hidden as well as your little swarm bug which you brought with you, and you do not protest. The hotel is big, perfect for your insect friend to flutter about freely. Your hand clings to Aventurine’s coat, a habit you have picked up on. When you cling to him, people talk to him first. You don’t know why, but you do not care because it has yet to fail you.

You do not pay attention to the woman at the front desk. She speaks too fast for you to properly comprehend her words, anyways. You take note of the people around. There is nobody adorning the familiar uniform of Qlipoth’s followers, much to your relief. You tug on Aventurine’s coat, looking at him.

He hums, and looks at you while the woman looks the both of you up to check for the reservation. "Finish?" You ask quietly. "Almost. You can sit if you want," he replies, pinching your cheek playfully. You frown and shake your head.

"Alright, It seems you both have reservations. Here are the keys for your rooms. We hope you and your younger sibling enjoy your stay in penacony." The woman smiles and slides the cards on the counter. Aventurine thanks her and motions for you to follow, which you do without hesitance.

The walk is silent, and once the two of you are in the elevator, you decide to speak once more. "We are like Sunday and Robin."

Aventurine blinks at your declaration and turns so his body is facing you, leaning on the support bars of the elevator. "Is that a statement or a question?" He asks, but you don’t directly answer his question, only explaining your words.

"I am younger sibling, you are older sibling." It is then that Aventurine realizes you had paid attention to the woman’s words, or at least her send off ones. He didn’t think much of it, it wasn’t the first time people had assumed you both as siblings. Then again, you had yet to learn the concept of family and the various titles during those encounters.

Still, Aventurine smiles, chuckling lightly as the fuzzy feeling in his chest grows. "Yeah.. You’re the younger sibling, I’m older sibling." The elevator grows silent once more as you both wait for the doors to open.

He’ll need to finish those custody papers once this mission is over.

[phfenomena]

“you’re my only hope of getting into heaven, angel.” || William H. Bonney x reader

giving cowboy realness fr

| WARNINGS- sexual innuendo

| William H. Bonney x Reader fluff

the morning air is crisp and clean as it filters in through the windows and propagates throughout the entire house. the sudden chill and the bright rays of light beaming into your eyes forced them open.

jesus christ it feels like the middle of january in here.

your gaze settles upon your still slumbering partner. you shuffle closer and wedge yourself into his arms, your chest pressing into his. he stirs lightly as you continue to make yourself comfortable, as if he’s a heated rag doll.

“what are you doing, angel?” he croaks above you, voice thickly laced with sleep.

you hum softly “nothing, just freezing in here. you’re warm, like a nice campfire.” he chuckles softly and pulls you closer. his head perks up to press a kiss against the top of yours.

“it’s so damn cold, i might already have hypothermia. you’ll have to warm me up better than this.” you nod as you talk and stare lightly up at him, your smile residing in her eyes.

“why don’t i get up and close the windows, doll? that might fix your deadly condition.” he muses from above you. you ponder the idea but ultimately reject.

“you’ll leave me alone and cold in bed. you said i was your sweetheart. how could you leave me when i’m on death's doorstep?” you pout and he rolls his eyes.

“you’re too dramatic for your own good.” he rubs his arms over every inch he can reach to bring your temperature up.

“i won’t let you go dying on me, darling. you’re my only hope of getting into heaven, angel, so we gotta go together. i’ll have to jump the gates if you go first.” he almost whispers against your ear, his voice still not wanting to wake up. you look up at him and smile softly, your hand trailing up and settling on the side of his face. “you’re a good man, billy. even if god didn’t let you into heaven, i’d run down to hell for you. atleast i wouldn’t be cold there.” you smile wide and lean up to press your lips together.

he moves his hand to rest behind your head as he attempts to deepens the kiss while slowing the pace that your lips meet at. he reluctantly pulls back and takes a deep breath. his hand trailing down and drawing shapes on your hip. “you know, i could think of a few ways to warm you up real quick.” he smirks against your lips and narrows his eyes while looking into your wide ones. raising his eyebrows he rolls on top of you.

“i think that sounds like a wonderful idea, mr. bonney.” you wrap your arms around his neck and admire him. his messy hair, his tired eyes, and his dopey grin plastered across his face. yeah, you’d follow him to hell.

“hey billy i know it’s real early but-“ jesse saunters through the bedroom door and stops with wide eyes upon seeing the encounter. “i’ll…come back later.” he quickly averts his eyes down to avoid eye contact and firmly shuts the door.

billy’s head hangs low as you both hysterically laugh and he rolls off of you. “works calling, angel. are you warm or do i need to stay in bed with you all day?” he spoke softly as he fiddled with pieces of your hair and the lace from your nightgown.

“i’ll be okay, billy. you better get goin’ before jesse comes back in here” you smile as you kiss one last time and watch billy undress then dress again. shamelessly eyeing him until he leaves the room, not without one more kiss.

you’d fight the damn devil for that man.

[saffricatrice]

what annoys me about posts on the novel frankenstein in this site (besides the blatant ableism towards victor frankenstein from people who swear they "care" about disabled people) is the amount of readers that forget that the bride, had victor truly put her to life, would in fact have the same amount of autonomy & free will as the Creature does.

i talked about this in some reblog before but really it is incredibly annoying, seeing people who claim to be feminists and advocating for the rights of women saying that oh! victor should've just not given her ovaries/not given the Creature a cock and so that would fix everything! so they shan't be able to reproduce an dmake evil moster children! just in response to this one thing in that chapter:

"one of the first results of those sympathies for which the dæmon thirsted would be children, and a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth, who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror."

it is true that victor worries about them reproducing, but how did they miss these lines from the first paragraph of the chapter?:

 "He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man, and hide himself in deserts; but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species."

it's literally longer, reader can't have somehow accidently missed it? frankenstein thinks of her free will, that is so much more important. he worries of her consent in the matter. it is in my belief by ignoring this you are ignoring the voice of mary shelly, daughter of a world known feminist, who is against arranged maariages of which this situation very closely resembles.

even if we ignore the fact that people somehow managed to not read a significant amount of the text, why do people belive the victor owes the creature a wife? do you think men are owed wives? that women, without a say in what they want to do, must become a wife to some random man just because he wants her to?

people here woobify the creature so much that they literally act extremely ableist and anti-feminist on accident. i am not saying the creatture is pure evil and victor is pure good, i am very against black and white readings, but is this not common sense? and honestly, the way the creature speaks about the bride is gross anyways. here are two examples:

"one as deformed and horrible as myself [would not deny herself to me]" & "(…) of the same species and have the same /defects/".

is that not odd? how the creature Wants her to be miserable and ugly so she has no other choice but to be with him?

not to mention how the bride parallels elizabeth and the relationship between her and the creature would've probably parallels the relationship of alphonse and caroline frankenstein, how the creature would've (accidentally?) groomed her and how pedophillic it kind of is if you really think about it. but that's a whole different can of worms

i know you guys love adam and hes interesting but jesus fucking christ

[izvmimi]

cw: minors dni. smut. first time sex. literal breeding. sci-fi themed. female body parts for reader. izuku is bigger than reader. size kink if you squint.

The dynamics of the world as you knew it thousands of years ago are now gone, and ever since you awoke from cryogenic slumber just 24 hours ago, the next phase of humanity’s plan to continue to exist and expand through the stars is now in progress.

Repopulation.

The new Earth substitute you inhabit is practically devoid of humans and will need bodies, at least until enough of you can build robots to replace your physical labor. There are fifty of you in total, of reproductive age and of peak physical, intellectual and emotional ability (aggregate, with some compartments allowed to be lower than others), and you are assigned to partners based on your compatibility.

They call you terraforming partners. It’s a euphemism for mate. Your only job is to breed.

There are of course other departments to work in the colonizing efforts. Some of the selected fifty have double appointments in the repopulation department and in research and development, others in art and communications, still others in nutrition. You failed to select a secondary appointment prior to your assignment to this planet, and thus have the appointment of Propagator-09A.

It is time to meet your mate. Taking in a deep breath, you leave your quarters, housed in one of two L-shaped buildings surrounding the Nexus or central headquarters, and walk straight down the hall of the dorm building into the designated repopulation centers. These are where you will perform your duties.

The two of you will enter a dome-shaped building from opposite ends of the room. You’re not sure who awaits you on the opposite end of the door, just that they are sexually compatible with you, and pass other measures of compatibility based on a predetermined algorithm. This algorithm is not meant for love, not meant for marriage, just sex and reproduction. Will you two produce at least two minimum viable human children that can be turned over to the administration to be raised? That’s all that is asked of you, and that is what you are contracted to do -

... regardless of who will show up in the next few minutes.

The watch on your wrist monitors your heart rate and everything other than it, and it is starting to beep in concern of your rising heart rate. You suck air into your lungs and let it blow out of your nose. 

Mates are not allowed to hurt you. They are to watch for your comfort, as you are to watch for theirs, they are to stop if you’re not ready, and you are allowed to leave at any time. They are meant to fit you perfectly, and you were specific enough in your application to explain how you liked to be held and pleased.

This will be okay, you tell yourself. It will all be okay.

The door slides upwards into the apex of the dome, and you step into your new home away from home, at presumably the same time as your mate. Marching straight into the center of the room, your eyes lowered to the ground to steady yourself, you don’t notice that the man on the opposite end has not yet begun to move, and when you look up finally once you’ve reached the center, you see him for the very first time, and his cheeks are tinted with the deepest of blushes.

The young man’s lips are parted wide, his hands balled into loose fists at his side as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Immediately, you recognize him from the debriefing session just prior to the cryogenic freezing and the young man - tall, handsome, far too talkative with a voice gentler than expected for a man of his stature but in keeping with his softened but still masculine facial features - seems to hang in the frame of the door, transfixed. Not one word comes out of his mouth. You notice the top of his head, covered in mossy green curls, just barely grazes the top of the door, remembering that the domes have much lower ceilings than the buildings back home.

“Hi,” you eke out, then quickly add, “watch your head.”

Your voice is smaller than usual as you offer him a slightly nervous, strained smile, and he looks as though a shock runs through his body as you speak to him, bumping his head anyway as he walks in despite your warning. You raise your eyebrows, and he laughs just as nervously before meeting up to you.

Standing just inches apart, he scratches his neck, and the pink beneath his freckles still hasn’t abated, but at least now he can talk.

“Sorry about that haha, I’m… I just didn’t realize you’d be so pretty.”

Your own face deeply warms at those words. He’s easy on the eyes too, and you’re thankful for it, but he doesn’t need to charm you as easily as he does. 

Shy yourself, you’re at a loss for words to reply, even thank you failing to be generated. He notices the silence, and quickly fills in the space.

“I’m Izuku. Izuku Midoriya… uh, your terraforming partner. Nice to meet you.”

His hand stretches out to shake yours, and you shake it. It’s larger, warm, and heavily calloused. You wonder what type of work he does, before the mission or now that he’s on this planet with you. With those broad shoulders and impressive biceps of his, you figure it could be something manual, but he’s always sounded quite intelligent so perhaps the muscles are more for show.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m ___.”

As if on cue, once you’ve introduced yourselves, the doors slide down behind the both of you, closing you in. There’s a loud click, and then the pod announces that it’s moving underground, and you steady yourself as gravity shifts. Your partner’s hands extend reflexively to hold you to prevent you from falling, but he’s careful not to touch you unless the motion is invited.

The pod settles onto solid ground again.

The space isn’t small, but it’s not large either, and while it’s mostly monotone, a smattering of whites and beiges and glass, many of the surfaces are soft and plush. A large, round bed with many pillows, a glass panel that doubles both as a window and a screen is across from it. When you try the window, you realize your pod hasn’t moved completely underground, and you can still see the suns’ rays in the afternoon. You’d heard that the pods are set up this way for insulation. For heat, and for… sound.

You look towards Izuku again. His back is turned from you and he’s looking around the pod as well, examining every corner and crevice, his fingers rubbing his chin as he thinks. He’s a caricature of a thoughtful person, you think, soon distracted by the way his shirt hangs over the muscles of his back. He stretches for a moment, and you see the muscles flex under the thin fabric. Something stirs in your chest, then you look away quickly, deciding to search through the closets.

These algorithms hit the nail on the head when it comes to your type, you hate to admit.

Poring through the closets and drawers reveals all manners of lingerie and loungewear, as well as a few very specific costumes that seem to be for roleplay. Your face warms as you see a set of angel wings, and a bunny leotard, then you glance at him, wondering if these are the types of things he’s into. When you see the gladiator suit hung neatly right next to it, you can feel your blood run cold. 

Yes, it’s what you’re into.

There’s a fridge in the center of the room with protein drinks, meal replacement shakes, fresh fruit, wine, chocolate and other sweets, as well as a call button for meals. Cutlery and dishes find themselves in another drawer, along with a small table spread and two chairs that appear at the click of a button in the wall. A makeshift fireplace. 

Anything to set the mood.

Pornography in abundance. Dirty comics. You and Izuku both stare in awe at the sheer collection of spank material, then look at each other, and can’t help but laugh.

They really prepared for everything.

By the time you’ve looked at everything, your stomachs are growling. You share a meal together in polite conversation, which turns into friendly banter, laughter, and then soon, back into pregnant silence as you realize the sun is setting, and you remember there not on a date, not to become friends but for a purpose. 

The ability to delay the inevitable is now being lost, and eventually you’re both acutely aware of the body that occupies the same space. Izuku looks up at you, clears the plate before him, and broaches the subject first.

“Have you ever-”

“Yes,” you lie.

“Oh.”

He looks down for a second, then looks up at you. You wonder if he’s disappointed, but soon he adds, “I’m sorry if I can’t meet up to expectations but I’m willing to learn how to make you feel good.”

Your stomach twists for a moment, but you offer a smile. He looks sincere, no waver in those bright, green eyes, and it warms you. The two of you clear away the dishes soon, and Izuku tells you he’ll be careful with your body, once clothing has been stripped away, and the two of you are bare and facing each other.

You don’t know what that will entail before he touches you, but the inevitable attraction you have towards him, the magnetic draw that he has to your body, informs you soon. Your lips meet, you on your tip-toes, and his arms reaching carefully around his waist. The first kiss is reticent, soft and anxious, the second is hungry, the third is greedy. His tongue tastes everything your mouth has to offer, yours fights to get its share as well. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, as your chest presses against his. Your hearts beat in time with each other. Thump, thump.

Izuku’s skin smells like spring water and freshly cut grass, and is soft and warm to the touch; his weight against yours is a comfort you’ve needed your whole life. His breath against your skin, soft kisses along your collarbone, between your breasts, over your lower belly, and finally culminating with his mouth laying over your clit makes your body buzz. He whispers something about reading that you cumming first will make you accept him better, but the way he eats you out hungrily makes you think that it’s less tactical and more for the pleasure of it. He’s good with his fingers, too, thick and deep in your crevices, gentle but purposeful. 

The act of copulation can be such a solemn, resolute affair, but for you two it’s a new dance, where your bodies open up to each other in concert. Your bodies press and join together, your mouths each swallowing the other’s gasps as he enters you, as you take all of him in. You feel like heaven, he feels like paradise; the ebb and flow between you is perfect, unending. The sun sets without your notice because all you can see is each other.

Unconquered territory is discovered inch by inch, from inside out. Izuku makes your toes curl, your heart skip several beats as you cry out his name, even if you’ve just learned it moments ago. It’s a job, but the pleasure seems almost sinfully indulgent.

And you’re both extremely hard workers by nature. 

Breathless by the time he’s filled you to the brim, you have to remind each other that you don’t have to be pregnant at this very moment. He pulls out of you reluctantly, and your body tries to hold onto him, but all good things must come to an end, even if temporarily.

“Are you okay?” he whispers over your knees. 

You’re better than okay, full of affection and hope, flooded in hormones. You nod, Izuku offers a kiss to both your kneecaps as he applies just enough pressure with a forearm to keep your folded position. Parts of his semen slips out of you and he asks you if he can, and when you nod, cheeks warm and breathing steady, pushes the slippery substance back into your body with two fingers. 

A timer goes off and he sighs, laying down beside you.

“Testing is at the end of the week,” he muses. He’s staring at the ceiling. You want to reach over to him, but it feels too intimate for a first meeting, even if he’s been in your guts, even if he’s planting himself forever into you.

“Yeah.”

“I think we can do it,” he adds. Your worn out body warms, wanting more already. 

It’s just a job, you remind yourself. It’s work, not play. Duty, not love.

“Me too.”

Izuku turns to look at you, and he’s so earnest and sweet, you can practically imagine you are lovers, instead of biologically matched mates, and that rather than this transient mission, you’ll be together for the rest of your lives.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Lost in the Weeds

Yandere Plant Man x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Non-con, anal sex, painful sex, violent sex, bondage, drugged reader, paralysis, sadistic yandere, dacryphilia, general yandere behavior, oviposition?)  Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry this took so long for me to write, I hope you all like it.) 

   You were a deep space interplanetary botanist specializing in the retrieval and propagation of medically important plant species. Right now you were on the barely mapped planet Varliss IV trying to find an extremely rare flowering plant, Solanum volātilis that, despite extraterrestrial origin, appeared to be a member of the family solanaceae.    All previous attempts to propagate this rare species in an artificial environment had failed, but you were sure you could figure it out if you could only find the plant when it had a few seed pods on it.

 Procuring some seed specimens was easier said than done though. The first thing you had to do was keep trudging through this damnable jungle. Luckily there were no life threatening species, but it was still a slog through mud and foliage, and the humidity was oppressive. And even if they were not harmful there were still a number of insects that bit and swarmed around mammals, requiring an explorer’s outfit that covered your legs and arms completely. An outfit that did nothing to help the sweltering heat.  You wiped your brow and continued your trek through thick mud and odd cyan and purple vines and leaves, thorns and thistles scraping and poking uselessly at your clothing.  After what was surely many hours of hiking from the clearing you had landed your spacecraft in you still had found no trace at all of the plant. It was a highly uncommon species though, so it was not like you expected this to be easy. Science seemed amazing and technical and sometimes even magical, but you knew that it all required a lot of grunt work.  You were about to set up your camp for the night in a small clearing you had stumbled across when much to your astonishment you actually found what appeared to be the bloom of the flower you were seeking on a vine.  You pulled out your magnifying glass and reference book as you got closer to make a positive identification. Yes, this was definitely the right flower, a large bell shaped flower that was deep purple with cyan streaks and dark blue freckle-like dots on the inside. Though the vine it was attached to was much thicker than it should be. Though any number of circumstances could account for anomalous growth such as that.  You rubbed the vine out of curiosity and were astounded to find that it felt unnaturally warm. You were much more astounded when it moved away from you entirely and then the figure of a large humanoid, easily 8 feet tall, was suddenly looming above you.  You fell back on your rump and looked up in disbelief, unable to find your words. The tall humanoid appeared to be male, his long hair was red but had several vines with cyan leaves going through it, his mouth had two thorn-like fangs, he had a large vine like tail covered in the flowers that you sought out, his skin was cyan with dark blue freckles and his arms, legs, and the tip of his very much exposed cock were all dark purple. His cock was also leaking a viscous magenta fluid that dripped a bit on your face.  “And just what do you think you’re doing, touching me like that!?” He growled as he looked down at you menacingly before using one arm to easily hoist you up and hold you about a foot off the ground. “How do you like being touched without permission, huh!?” “Wh-wh-what? No! I just- I um. I was ju-just looking for seeds! I didn’t kno-” You barely managed to sputter out before getting cut off by the monstrous plant.  “Oh, you want seeds, well why didn’t you just say so? I can bring you to all of the seeds for the flowers like the ones on me, no problem.” He put you down and brushed you off, something about the way he smirked left you unsettled, but you did not want to risk his anger and so you just muttered a thanks as he took your hand and started leading you away. You exchanged names while walking with him, learning his name was Drosera. You really should have just taken your chances and ran, because as far as Drosera was concerned you had marched into his territory and were now his private property.  He lead you deeper into the strange forest until finally you came to the gaping maw of a cave. You gasped as you entered and were greeted with the surprising sight of rays of sunlight streaming in through a hole in the roof leading to the creation of a sheltered grove. Moss, trees, flowers, vines, and a small babbling brook all hidden away from the world.    There, in the center, were indeed the flowers indicative of the plant you were searching for, this time without being attached to any intelligent life. You rushed towards them in your excitement and did not notice the sprawling vines of your companion quickly approaching you from behind as you were bent down to examine the flora.  Before you knew what had happened each of your limbs and your mouth had been completely wrapped up in tendril like vines. You tried writhing from their grasp but you might as well have been trapped by steel for all the good it did you. Your muffled wails and whines were equally useless, not eliciting even the slightest bit of empathy from your captor.  Tears rolled down your cheeks, pooling a bit at the vines that restrained your lips. The vines suspended you a few feet above the ground and pulled you towards him and he brushed the tears from your face with a deceptively gentle hand. “Awe, why are you crying little human? I am just about to give you exactly what you asked for.”  Drosera brought his mouth to your neck, ghosting his two thorn-like fangs against your sensitive skin before suddenly penetrating your flesh. You writhed in pain as he injected you with a powerful venom. He held you close with both the vines extending from his back and his arms as if trying to comfort you through the pain.  Soon you found yourself almost completely unable to move, capable now of only the most feeble attempts at struggling. Whatever he injected you with was clearly intended to do away with any possibility of escape for what was about to happen next.    The tight grip the vines had had on you loosened a bit, as he no longer needed to keep you so well restrained. He used his vines to slowly, almost sensually, peel off all of your equipment and clothing until you were left exposed under the excited gaze of his violet eyes. All you could manage to do was let out a small whimper as you averted your gaze.  Drosera roughly felt up your body, eager greedy hands rubbing and groping you all over, grabbing on to what was now his.  The vines that extended from his back still held you up despite your limp and envenomed state, they quickly moved you into a bent position, your head facing away from your captor as he gruffly gripped your hips, caring little, if at all, for your comfort.  You could feel more of his vines creeping up your legs, reaching and grabbing like tentacles until they found what they were looking for, your asshole.  They roughly prodded at your entrance as you stammered out pleas of mercy, sobbing and begging Drosera to please just release you, promising that you would never cross into his territory or even come back to this planet at all. But he just laughed sadistically, your cries serving only as fuel for his arousal.  Suddenly and without warning the slender vines prodding at you jammed their way inside, eliciting a scream from your sobbing form. There had been no stretching, no application of lube, just a brutal penetration. And he was certainly not going to stop with just his vines.  You could feel them writhing and probing their way deeper and deeper inside you, after the initial pain of them entering you faded it was replaced with an uncomfortable and disgusting feeling of being unnaturally full and violated.  Your sobs finally slowed down as you became more accustomed to your situation, and that is when Drosera decided he needed to apply more pain. To utterly and completely dominate you mind, body, and spirit. To enjoy those beautiful tears that set his heart aflutter while he was inside you.  So he withdrew his tendrils from your insides and before you could even breathe a sigh of relief replaced them with his giant cock, still dripping with pink fluid. You shrieked so loudly at him ramming himself into your un-lubed ass that he almost came on the spot. He could feel it in his cock each time a scream, whimper, or pained sob racked your body.  He pulled your hair roughly from behind with one hand while gripping your hip hard with the other as he continued abusing your poor hole in as painful a way as he could.  “You should be grateful, slut! You wanted seed so badly and that’s just what you are about to get!!” He chuckled cruelly at his joke as he continued ramming into you with more and more speed as he began to wildly chase his climax.  The plant man put a firm hand on each collar bone and jerk you back painfully to get as deep into you as he possibly could as he filled you with a warm viscous fluid, you were confused though when instead of that being the end of it he then started to fill you up with a lot of something that felt round and hard.  After filling you the vines holding you in place retracted and he sat you down in his lap, causing fluid to leak out of you and onto him, though he did not seem to mind at all or even notice.    It suddenly clicked even in your rattled and abused psyche that he had literally filled you with his seeds. A million panicked thoughts went through your mind. What if they sucked out all your nutrients and moisture to grow in your corpse, what if they burst through your skin, what if th-  Your horror must have been plastered all over your face because Drosera interrupted your downward spiral of fears by saying, “Don’t worry, they won’t harm you. They are like eggs and when they are about to pop open they will come out of you, you will such a lovely incubator to keep full of my children~”  You began sobbing and hyperventilating, still unable to do anything more than weakly twitch under the long lasting effects of his venom.  “Fuck, you’re so hot when you cry for me, so beautiful.” He gently wiped your tears away with his thumb as you realized this is what your life would be like from now on.  No more dreams or a career advancing science. Just sobbing and being a flower pot for some alien monster’s seeds just for the horrible crime of bumbling into his territory.