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#this fic? head canon? mini fic?
beetleviolet · 6 months
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I absolutely love the headcanon that Leo and Donnies birthday is pi day.
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HAPPY IMAGINARY BIRTHDAY 💜💙
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ozzo-the-wozzo · 3 months
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I need to you guys to stay with me and imagine Adrien Agreste experimenting with what to wear after he quits modeling but being hopelessly lost on where to start so, after much consideration, he gets the brilliant idea to mimic his friends clothing aesthetics.
So naturally one week he’s wearing a backwards cap and baggy jeans in an attempt to mimic Nino who is ecstatic and another he’s wearing a lot of flannel which makes Alya roll her eyes and another him and Marinette are practically twins much to his delight until she gently tells him he only likes it because they are matching and he should probably keep looking until he finds something that is his own.
But instead he just keeps on mimicking classmate after classmate until he runs through them all and he starts talking to Kagami who’s figuring things out herself and doesn’t provide much to go off of and he settles on wearing suits until someone mistakes him for Felix.
So then he decides to move on from people and starts to look on Pinterest at Marinette’s suggestion and he copies the outfits down to a science but why does everything STILL feel not right? He decides it’s the website so he moves on and copies what he sees in magazines and in ads and it feels a little better but he also feels a little sick when he does it and why isn’t anything right and he’s twisting the ring on his finger so much it’s leaving a mark and hes pacing around the mansion and it has so many portraits and his dad is in all of them and why is he suddenly getting the feeling nothing he puts on will ever be right and why in the world does this stupid ring feel so heavy.
And so after a month of experimenting, he gets up in the morning one day and decides to try on the outfit he always used to wear and attempts to do his grown out hair the old way and looks in the mirror and stares at himself for a while. He slips on his sneakers and then the door rings and he heads downstairs to meet Marinette for school. As they’re walking he is still trying to decipher what he feels and he suddenly realizes that his dad would like this outfit a lot. He smiles to himself and tells Marinette and she smiles weakly and says she supposes he would and then avoids his eyes.
Adrien feels that familiar twist in his stomach that tells him something isn’t right, but when he tries to reflect on why that would be he’s only met with the same fuzzy memories of his father that he can’t quite sort out. He wonders if that’s where the unease comes from but then he shakes his head because those memories must be good because his father died a hero.
And so he wears the same outfit he always wore, ignoring the fact it feels a little too tight on him and that it makes his new ring feel heavier than ever.
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surachelledraws · 8 months
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I have recently been released from a DOOZY of a hyperfixation spell. Whew. I was UNWELL. So here's a page of scum villain brain rot
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andrewologist · 2 months
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my online fandom experience is so heavily curated that sometimes I forget discourse happens which makes seeing snippets of insane arguments so much funnier
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obsessive-dumpling · 2 years
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I am l i v i n g for all this new bakudeku content I'm seeing. I know some people were not stoked to see the bird people migrate to us but honestly, I'm being fed and it turns out I'm a cheap date.
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In The Minotaur's Maze
Male Minotaur Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Violently painful noncon, mild bleeding from sex, size difference, belly bulge from massively huge dick, mild mention of musk, stalking, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 980 (Tried to make a drabble, failed again with a mini-fic instead. Oops. This is one of my very few works, so far, that is technically fanfiction as Asterion is the canon name of the Minotaur in Greek mythology.)
You were a talented explorer seeking ancient relics for fame and fortune.
You used a combination of minor magic to speak to the dead and serious investigation to discern the location of the fabled Minotaur labyrinth.
It was deep within an enchanted cave system that in many ways served as an extension of the maze hidden away within.
You carefully navigated the treacherous caves until you came upon the secret entrance. You placed your hand in the middle of a smooth wall and uttered the magic incantation.
The wall dissolved in a flash of light, and you stepped through the entrance as the stone reformed behind you. This was it. You were in the maze proper. What secrets lie ahead?
Of course, you knew the legends of Asterion the Minotaur, but he had been slain in them. And nothing could live so long anyway, especially without food.
You navigated the stone corridors easily. Despite their age, they still looked brand new. As you continued on, you occasionally heard what sounded like hooves plodding along behind you.
You pushed it from your mind. Your imagination was playing tricks.
As you stepped around a corner, you came to a wooden door and opened it. When you stepped through, gone were the twisting stone paths filled with the scent of earth.
Instead, there was an ancient style dwelling overlooking some farmland growing a variety of trees, bushes, and vines.
The door you had come through was still behind you, you closed it and from this side it looked like a door to a shed. So the labyrinth had pocket dimensions… You had heard about them in passing. You wondered how large it was. The realm may look like an idyllic farm on earth, but if you went far enough away, you'd surely hit an invisible wall.
Perhaps the door to the house would lead further into the dungeon.
As you got closer, you realized how large it was. When you pushed the big door open, it actually was a house. Albeit with furniture that was made for someone very large.
Suddenly, you felt a hot breath at your neck. You turned to find the very large, naked Minotaur staring down at you. He was a hairy wall of muscle. One with the head of a bull, complete with metal tipped horns. His legs were covered in dark fur and ended in large hooves, and his full nutsack dangled beneath a frighteningly large prick.
Before you could react, the Minotaur grabbed you and pulled off all your clothing.
You had no idea how Asterion could have survived all this time. He had been killed!
But apparently, he hadn't gotten the memo.
In the past, he had consumed most humans that wandered into his labyrinthine prison, but you were bravely entering his home, his nest.
You weren't cowering like the old sacrifices. Well, you weren't before he grabbed you anyway.
That, combined with him being in rut and driven insane by thousands of years of isolation, made him not consider you as a meal for even a moment. You were firmly in the mate category in his brain.
So small and cute.
You writhed and fought to get out of his grasp but he ignored your greatest efforts as if they were nothing.
Asterion licked at your face as you pleaded with him to let you go.
He couldn't understand your language but he could guess at their meaning.
But he had no intention of ever letting this new mate of his go.
He tossed you down on the bed and you now saw what he intended to do.
His hard cock now at full arousal, as large and thick as a man's arm.
"No no no! Pleasepleasenono!!!" Your words blended together in a garbled panic as his musk hit your nose, sharp and dominating.
The only preparation your entrance received was a few gobs of slimy Minotaur saliva before he slammed inside you.
You shrieked.
It felt as though your entrance was on fire. As if it was being ripped apart.
With every thrust you shuddered in pain and sobbed. Nearly incoherent cries for mercy dribbled from your lips and fell on deaf ears.
You felt so warm and tight around him. This was just what he needed. Surely you had been sent to Asterion in his time of need by the gods. They finally, after eons, granted him mercy in the form of your insides.
So pliant to his girthy cock. Every time he dove back into you the outline could be seen in your stomach.
Tears streamed down your face as you silently wept, no longer able to scream or even babble your silly little pleas for it to stop.
Asterion wished he could tell you how well you were doing. That you were such a good cow for him. That you fit his cock so perfectly.
But he couldn't, so instead settled for licking and nibbling at your neck before wiping your tears away with his broad tongue.
With a final thrust he filled your belly visibly cum.
When he pulled out a torrent of his seed rushed down your thighs, it had noticeable streaks of pink from bleeding. You were such a fragile little thing compared to him.
He hadn't been able to hold back since that was the first time he had ever sought release inside of someone before, but he made note to be more careful.
Even though the breeding had stopped you were helpless. Broken. At least for the moment. You still cried silently, feeling utterly invaded and defiled.
Asterion took the time to lick you completely clean before laying down beside you and holding you close, spooning you with his mighty arm as you shook beneath it.
You came here to explore the deepest reaches of the maze... but had your deepest reaches explored instead...
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k-martins · 9 months
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Updating mine
MY TOP TEN FAVORITE JJK SHIPPS!!!!
10. SHOKOHIME
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They stole Jogo and Hanami's place because I got it into my head that Jogo is like the grumpy grandfather and Hanai is the vegan aunt of the curse family! I like them. I think it's a ship with a lot of potential. I need to consume more content, but I love the fanarts!!!
9. HIGUNANA
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This crack grew in me and now I'm suffering for them after the last chapter. In a kind universe, Higuruma and Nanami adopted Yuji and they live happily and happily!!! I think the two go together a lot and the fanfics are adorable! These Old Yaoi will be the death of me!!!!
8. CHOSOYUKI
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They've come down a little, but man I still love them!!! Even more so now because my thirst for Choso awakened and I started reading fanfics of him being a good big brother and I fell to my knees! I still want to write more and explore his relationship with Yuji. And God, YUKI IS AMAZING!!!! THEY DESERVED TO STAY TOGETHER, AKUTAMI YOU DAMN IT!!!!
7. HIGUKUSA
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A friend on twt is feeding me higukusa art and, god, this crack (not so crack, because that "I'll protect you even if I have to die for it" from kusakabe hit me hard) has taken root in my heart! I'm also obsessed with Higuruma, so I combined the useful with the pleasant!
6. INUOKKO
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THEY ARE CUTE OKAY!!!! I AM OBSESSED WITH CREATING HCS FOR THEM!!! I don't consume much of their stuff, but all the fanart I've seen is cute and their participation in the itafushi fics I read is always welcome!!! It's kind of strange to read something where they're not together…
5. NOBAMAKI
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MY OPINION HAS NOT CHANGED, OKAY??? NOBAMAKI IS WONDERFUL AND I WOULD KILL TO HAVE MORE OF THEM!!! But since I saw Nobara's flashback I've been wondering if Fumi wouldn't be a good ship too? Does anyone have a fanfic/fanart of him, by the way??? ANYWAY, NOBAMAKI IS STILL MY FAVORITE!!!
4. KIRAKARI
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I'M IN LOVE WITH KIRARA!!!! SHE AND HAKARI ARE THE ONLY HEALTHY THINGS IN THIS MISERABLE MANGA!!!! I love imagining what their relationship is like, writing hcs slice to life minis and drawing Kirara! But I'm getting worried because I saw someone saying that Kirara could appear in the Hakari x Urame fight to help her boyfriend and I know what's going to happen and I don't want it to happen! GEGE GET THESE DIRTY CLAWS AWAY FROM MY BABIES!!!!
3. SATOSUGU
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YOU RUINED BLACK AND WHITE FOR ME, YOU DEPRESSED BITCHES!!! My friend is obsessed with them and boy can I understand! These two are tragic, with a beautiful dynamic and a happy ending(?). Plus they fucked up my Christmas Eve. I hope these two bitches are causing terror in heaven!
2. ITAFUSHI!!!!
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If you've known me for more than a second, you'll know that I have an average of five outbreaks a day because of these two. This whole thing about always trying to save others even if it condemns them destroys me, okay??? Fanfics and fanarts also feed me! And I'm going to convince all my friends to ship this too so I can yell at 2am at them about little details of their dynamic! AND THEY MATCH SO MUCH!!! Of course, no more than our first place!!!!
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EVERYONE X THERAPY!!!
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Please let the deaths stop and this become canon
Honorable mention for _ Tojikuna (more because a twt artist is obsessed with them and that rubbed off on me) _ Hainana _ Toji x Mamagumi _ Okkofushi (Yuta was Megumi's first crush and you can't get that out of my head) _ Uraume x Sukuna (one-sided) _ Yuta x Maki
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ginnsbaker · 7 months
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)
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Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!
Masterlist | Part I | Next Part
-
The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit. 
She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.
Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”
Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.
The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.
“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.
“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”
The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.
“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”
“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.
Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.
“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”
Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”
Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”
Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”
It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.
And she’ll take it. 
“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”
Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”
Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.
“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.
That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.
“What’s your plan then?”
“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.
“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”
“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”
Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her. 
“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.
“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”
“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”
“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.
“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.
Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.
-
Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.
Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”
Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.
Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”
Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”
“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.
There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.
“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.
“Nope.”
“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.
“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.
“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”
“If you say so.”
Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.  
“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”
“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.
“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too. 
“Ask away,” Leigh prods.
Jules takes a deep breath, and then:
“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”
Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?
Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.
Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”
“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”
Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”
“Dog lady? Really?”
“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”
Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.
“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”
Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”
Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.
“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.
Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”
-
The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.
As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.
He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.
The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching. 
“Can I get you something to drink?”
She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.
She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.
Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night. 
Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?
She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.
She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous. 
When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day. 
Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.
By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.
The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.
Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—
It’s Matt. 
Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real. 
But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.
She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.
Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.
“Leigh?”
The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.
Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.
So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.
“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.
Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force. 
She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.
“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.
“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. 
Why what?
“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.
You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.
Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.
“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.
Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”
Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up. 
The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.
But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground. 
You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.
-
Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.
For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.
-
Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.
With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.
“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope. 
“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.
You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”
Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm. 
“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”
You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.
But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.
Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”
Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.
“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.
“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”
The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.
A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.” 
You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.
Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.
“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought. 
Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.
She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.
Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”
It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.
“I—”
“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.
“You’ve been here before?”
It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.
“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.
You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”
While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”
You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”
Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”
“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.
Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”
Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”
“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.
You nod sheepishly in reply. 
“Or we could maybe—”
“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.
“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”
True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change. 
But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.
“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.
Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”
“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”
Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.
“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.
Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.
“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”
That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”
Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.
Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.
“Jules, I’m sorr—”
“Just save it, Leigh.”
Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.
But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.
Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.
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changisworld · 8 months
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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STARTED;19/02/24
last updated;16/09/2024
**ALL OF THESE ARE 18+ FICS, MDNI**
Requests: OPEN Thoughts:OPEN
**please note; i DO & WILL get around to answering all requests/asks, it might just take me a while<3**
𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒
COMPLETED MINI MLISTS
**EXTENDED SKZ KINKS SEPARATE MLIST**
COMING SOON
KINKTOBER 2024
BANGCHAN
Caught masterbating (ASK) ~2,319Words
Wet dreams (ASK)~ 1,256Words
Baby fever~3,200Words
whoever said 4’s a crowd?(3RACHA)~6,400Words
LEEKNOW
Secrets(ASK) ~2,839Words
Toys~1,507Words
CHANGBIN
1am gym hour (ASK) ~2,319Words
“Just don’t tell her”~6,809Words
experiments(fem!binnie)~3,562Words
whoever said 4’s a crowd?(3RACHA)~6,400Words
HYUNJIN
kisses & ribbons~2,301Words
“just try it”~7,023Words (PART 2) (PART 3)
“You’ll like it, trust me”~3,301Words
HAN JISUNG
“can you pass me a towel?”(ASK)~2,760Words
"I pinky swear!"(ASK) ~2,169Words
whoever said 4’s a crowd?(3RACHA)~6,400Words
FELIX
Caught out(part 2 to Perv!Felix headcanon) ~4,113Words
A helping hand~6,227Words
SEUNGMIN
Jealous friends with benefits(ASK)~ 3,684Words
Three ISN’T a crowd(ft. Jeongin)~ 7,186Words
JEONGIN
Birthday surprise(ASK) ~1,874Words
Three ISN’T a crowd(ft. Seungmin)~7,186Words
“you know you want to”~ 4,288Words
OT8
Skz reactions to periods during sex~ 1,701Words
Skz favourite positions~ 1,852Words
Skz biggest kinks & pleasures (hyung line)~ 2,933Words
Skz biggest kinks & pleasures (maknae line)~ 3,335Words
MTLLT try anal~1,207Words
DRABBLES
showering with skz
skz reaction to clit piercing
skz reaction when you’re jealous
Coparenting with channie(HARDTHOUGHT)(ASK)
Channie headlocking you while fucking
Leeknow hard thoughts
Leeknow as your Friends with Benefits partner
baby fever x finding out you’re expecting with hyunjin
perv!Hyunjin hard thoughts
Jisung hard thoughts
han jisung hard thoughts
Boy!Pussy HanJisung hard thoughts
Desperate Sungie
Things felix says during sex(ASK)
Perv!Felix (head canon)
Seungmin hard thoughts
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ihavemanyhusbands · 4 months
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High Risk
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PART TWO: SILVER TONGUED DEVIL
Also on AO3
Part One // Mini-Series Masterlist
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Nurse!Fem!Reader
WC: 3.1k words
Chapter Summary: In order to form a deeper connection with Hannibal, hoping to keep him complacent, Doctor Chilton allows you to have dinner with him…. Mostly unsupervised.
Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, slight canon divergence (frederick is still head of baltimore state hospital), manipulation all around, some jealousy, corruption, smut, handjob, kinda audio voyeurism but not really?, also kinda exhibitionistic but not really??, some alcohol consumption, aaaand thats all i can think of rn but lmk if i missed anything!
————-
You waited outside of the double doors with a guard, patiently carrying Hannibal’s meal tray. He had a visitor, a mutual acquaintance of Doctor Chilton’s, and they were not to be disturbed.
You couldn’t understand why you had to be standing there, but you figured it was a power move on Doctor Chilton’s part. Reminding you of your place. 
Your eyes flicked up to the security camera in the corner, suspecting he was watching more than one of them at a time. More than half an hour had passed, the silence stretching on infinitely. The guard had briefly tried to engage you in small talk, but he had quickly realized it was pointless. You already knew what sort of questions he would ask if he felt like he had any leeway, and you were not in the mood for it.
Already there were rumors speculating the sort of favors Hannibal was asking of you. You’d felt the gazes on you, caught the murmurs behind your back. You couldn’t deny that the more animal part of you, the one that had no such regard for personal safety, hadn’t thought about him that way. 
A few times, he had slipped a folded piece of paper for you to find when you retrieved his meal trays. Always sketches of you, symbolic renditions meant to convey messages. His attention to detail was astounding. Almost… devoted, in a way. 
Every time you posed for him, you found yourself enjoying his focus more and more. The thrill of it all was narcotic, but you only hated that it had brought other people’s attention to you. 
The doors suddenly opened and a tall, well dressed woman stepped out. She was strikingly beautiful, with icy blue eyes and neatly styled dark hair. Her lips were painted ruby, which further accentuated her features in an elegant but almost severe way.
Doctor Alana Bloom was her name. You’d heard of her from both Doctor Chilton and Hannibal, but you hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting her in person until then.
“My, you’re a looker,” she said, inspecting you as if you were an insect under a microscope. “No wonder.”
You only smiled politely, internally seething. She could see right through you, smiling in return.
“He’ll charm the pants off you if you’re not careful.”
With that, she walked away, heels clicking down the hallway. The guard next to you let out a huff and you shot a glare in his direction.
He pushed off the wall and followed her, while you turned the other way and slipped into Hannibal’s cell room.
“Sorry, it might be a little cold,” you said as a greeting, making your way over to the slot. 
“You were waiting for me?” He asked.
“I was told to wait until you were done, yes.”
He noticed you were avoiding looking at him, though the displeasure itself wasn’t directed at him. He smiled a little to himself with satisfaction.
“Doctor Bloom is an old colleague of mine, but our history goes a little further than that,” he said. “A futile affair, that was.”
“No rekindling the flame then?” You asked before you could stop yourself. 
Of course that wasn’t what the visit was about, you knew as much. But you were still bristling from her words, and the smugness in them.
“No,” Hannibal said. “I’m afraid we are mutually uninterested, though we have some business left over.”
You hummed in thought, composing yourself. “I apologize for asking, it’s none of my business.”
“You may ask me whatever you want. I won’t mind telling you.”
You tilted your head to the side, where another camera was perched up in the corner. 
“We don’t have such liberties,” you said pointedly. “Though who knows? Maybe there’s an argument for our case.”
With that, a small, coquettish grin and a glance in his direction. Hannibal sat up straighter, licking his lips.  He glanced up at the camera, also well aware that Frederick was listening.
If anything, the two of you had been enjoying toying with him in any small way you could. It drove him crazy, but he mostly seethed in silence, knowing he was equally matched in this game.
“Perhaps dinner might be a good place to start,” he said.
“Oh yes, I would like that very much,” you said, exaggerating a wistful sigh. “But we shall see.”
————————————
“You know, you’re getting a little bold with all these requests,” Doctor Chilton said, arms crossed over his chest. 
“I know you have your methods of trying to get information out of him — or at least you think so,” you said, unbothered. “I mean, he has been much more forthcoming because of me, hasn’t he? I have my methods, too.”
He let out a sardonic chuckle. “Clearly. Others seem to think so, too, no?”
You didn’t give in to his goading, changing the subject instead. “Much luck with Doctor Bloom?”
“Some, actually,” he said, his sneer faltering. “But that shouldn’t really concern you. You’re still his favorite little doll to play with.”
And you mine, you thought to yourself, containing a grin.
“I’m aware,” you said instead, raising an eyebrow. “So it’s not too unreasonable to have dinner with him, especially with the glass still separating us.”
“Oh, but you’d be so much more useful if you were up close and personal. I could put you in one of the interrogation rooms and keep him handcuffed... But the problem is, he asked for total privacy. No cameras and no audio recordings,” he countered. “I cannot possibly do both. You know that’s not how it works.”
You pretended to think about it for a moment, but you already knew what the obvious answer was.
“No cameras, then,” you said. “I would say that’s fair, no? You might not care for the video footage, anyway, not without sound.”
He narrowed his eyes but nodded in assent, knowing it was the best he would get. The ghost of a self-satisfied smile was on your lips, pleasure at getting what you wanted dancing in your eyes. 
As long as the rest of the team was getting the information they needed, by whatever means necessary, he supposed he couldn’t grouse too much. Regardless, that didn’t make him any less annoyed at being backed into a corner.
“You get an hour and a half tops,” he said with finality. “Work your magic. And wear something nice, why don’t you?”
————————————
The table had already been set for you when you arrived. A mediocre attempt at something romantic, with a few little tea lights and a half-dead flower in a plastic cup. You supposed the guards couldn’t be bothered with such nonsense, but it was also more mockery on Frederick’s part. 
But at that very moment, you couldn’t care less. In fact, you found yourself… excited for the night's events. 
It was nice not to wear your uniform for once, your nicest black dress in its place. It was nothing too special, but you only wore it on certain occasions, such as dates.
And while this may be the macabre version of a date, it was a date nonetheless.
You’d styled your hair differently, put on a little make up and even wore perfume, which you were rarely able to do. It was liberating in a way, as if granting you permission to step out of bounds a little more. You wouldn’t waste such an opportunity.
Your heels clicked softly on the linoleum floor as you slowly paced the room, anxiously waiting. You glanced down at your watch, and right as it hit eight o’clock, the door opened. Hannibal was led in by a guard, his hands cuffed in front of him. He smiled at the sight of you, his eyes roaming up and down to better appreciate you. 
Your heart immediately started racing, both from nerves and giddiness. You focused solely on him as he was led to the table, the situation becoming less surreal by the second. Despite the fact that he was in his usual jumpsuit, you could tell he had meticulously groomed himself as best as he could. 
Another guard came in to place two trays on the table, but the food wasn’t from the cafeteria. Apparently, Hannibal had been allowed to cook a two-course meal, dessert included. There was even some wine, but you had to settle for plastic cups instead of glasses. Not that either of you seemed to mind, too busy sizing each other up. 
It felt strange, not seeing him through a thick panel of glass, but it was even stranger to sit right across from him. You only had to reach out your arm and you’d be able to touch him… if it wasn’t forbidden, of course.
“I’m surprised Doctor Chilton did not join us for dinner,” he said as the guard cuffed him to the table.
“He’ll be here in spirit,” you said, briefly nodding at the two guards before they stepped out of the room. “But I think it’s better this way, don’t you agree?”
“Much better,” he agreed, pausing a moment until the door finally shut. “You look beautiful, by the way… And you smell good enough to eat. Just as I thought you would.”
You grinned at his dark sense of humor, suppressing a shudder as you crossed your legs and leaned back. “Well, flattery will get you anywhere.”
“And wine?”
He grabbed the already uncorked bottle of wine and raised his eyebrows. You nodded and he poured for both of you. 
“We shall see,” you said, taking the cup from him and holding his gaze.
“Well, a toast to our very gracious host,” he said, raising his cup. “For making all this happen.”
You tapped your cup against his with a soft cheers before taking a sip. He proceeded to give you a detailed explanation of what you would be eating, nearly putting you in a trance. His voice had a hypnotic quality to it, managing to soothe your nerves. Without really noticing, the two of you were leaning forward, the conversation taking on an almost intimate quality – even if the subject matter was anything but. 
Before he touched his food, he encouraged you to try first. He watched you eat, his amber eyes lingering on your lips as you licked them. You had never tasted anything so complex or refined, but knowing it was put together by him made it even more of a delicacy. You let out a pleasured hum, barely holding back from getting another bite.
“My compliments to the chef,” you said, taking another sip of wine instead. “It’s almost enough to convince me to eat anything you cook.”
He chuckled. “Oh, if we were not within these four walls, I would have made a whole feast just for you. I’m sure Frederick has told you of my dinner parties.”
“But then it’s likely we wouldn’t have met outside these walls,” you said, not wanting to talk about Doctor Chilton. “Unless, of course, you frequent this sort of place.”
“I am not unfamiliar, I will give you that,” he said. “But our meeting has been the only good thing about this whole situation, and for that, I am grateful.”
You put a hand on your chest, teasingly pretending to be touched. “How sweet, are you going to quote more Byron for me next?”
He laughed, finally digging into his food. Conversation flowed with surprising ease as you continued to eat. Perhaps it was partly due to the wine, but it also helped that you were eager to listen to his thoughts on things. You were well aware of his intelligence, and it was stimulating to finally talk to someone that had so many layers to uncover.
By the time you got to dessert, he was bold enough to spoon feed you the first bite, awaiting your reaction. The taste was just as amazing, but you were more interested in the gesture. The way he was gazing at you with ardor, kindling your insides – A hunger of a different kind. 
“Tell me something,” he said, clearing his throat. “If it weren’t for Frederick, would you have accepted an invitation to dine with me?”
“Depends, if you’d played your cards right, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it would’ve been possible.” You tilted your head to one side slightly. “But you’re much too valuable, are you not? They have to keep you happy.”
“You certainly have.” 
You let out a huff of amusement, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your hand. Briefly, you thought again of all the rumors circulating about the two of you. This time, though, it didn’t really seem to matter all that much anymore. They’ll keep talking anyway, so why not just do whatever the hell I want?
You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you always manage to get what you want?” 
He shrugged as if he couldn’t help it, making you chuckle. “What’s your secret, hmm? How do you do it?”
“You aren’t able to come any closer, are you?”
“Of course not, Hannibal.” You pretended to scoff. “We’ve got to keep our hands to ourselves, too.”
There was a devilish grin on your face as you slowly got up from your seat. You slipped your shoes off and brought a finger to your lips to indicate silence. It was titillating, truth be told, to be straddling the fine line between reckless abandon and caution. Especially when you were clearly leaning more towards one side.
“Pity,” he said, watching your every move, smile mirroring your own. “I would have liked to whisper it in your ear.”
You slid onto the chair next to him and he turned his body to face you. You looked down at his jumpsuit, locating the zipper, before looking back into his eyes. He slightly dipped his chin in assent, and you reached a hand up to his chest.
“Tell me something else, then,” you said, dragging it down slowly so as not to make much noise. 
“Like what?” he asked, holding his breath as more and more of his body was revealed. 
His blood was quickly flowing south, the consequences of this becoming apparent as the zipper reached the end of the line. Your mouth fell open in both surprise and eagerness, exhaling a shuddery breath. He kept his hands off as you carefully eased his erection out of his underwear, fingertips brushing the velvety underside.  
“Anything at all,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “You’re a romantic, aren’t you? I want to hear your ideas on love.”
You stood up and slid your panties down your legs without lifting your dress too much. You watched him swallow hard as you sat back down, letting the fabric fall on his lap.
“For the mess,” you whispered in his ear, your body pressed close to his. “And a little souvenir for you to keep after.”
He nodded, spine straightening as you planted a kiss just beneath his earlobe. You held his gaze as you spat in the palm of your hand and reached down to curl your fingers around his shaft. His hips immediately bucked into your grip, and you heard him suck in a breath.
“Love, hmm?” He cleared his throat. “You want to know what makes me tick?”
“Absolutely,” you purred, hand moving up and down slowly, wrist flicking slightly when you reached the tip. “Though I may already have a few ideas...”
As much as you wanted to tease him, elongating his pleasure, you didn’t have much time to spare. Your faces were close together, but you fought off the urge to kiss him. His breathing became more labored as your hand continued its rhythmic movements, the heady scent of you – and of your arousal – enveloping him.
He’d had his fantasies about you on many late nights, but your actual touch was another thing entirely, better than what he could have imagined. And knowing he was affecting you in the same way… the chain of his handcuff rattled against the table a little as he strained, trying his hardest not to touch you back. He would want you to be loud, anyway, and that was not an option there.
“W-well, I certainly like to be surprised,” he said haltingly. “And I admire boldness. But to love in itself is a bold a-action, wouldn’t you agree?
“I wouldn’t know much about that,” you said, slicking his pre-cum around the head of his cock with your thumb. “But I do know how to be a lover.”
The light graze of your teeth on his earlobe made his body jerk, his cock pulsing in your hand. You picked up the pace, his chest heaving as his hips almost involuntarily rocked to meet each stroke. Your lips moved to his jaw and down to his neck, and you listened to him babble about something else, trying to fill in the silence. 
Your attention was on his body’s reactions and you could tell he was dangerously close to the edge.  You silently warned him not to stop talking as his cock began to twitch, and you had only seconds before you quickly had to cover your hand with your discarded panties. He bit his bottom lip as he spilled all over the fabric, little noises of pleasure stuck in his throat, one hand gripping your arm. 
You smiled against his skin, lavishing his neck with some more attention as he faintly sighed your name. And when he was done riding out his high, you turned his face towards you and planted a small kiss on his lips as if to reward him. 
He was panting, still lost in the dizzying aftershocks of his orgasm, but you helped clean him up some and zipped his jumpsuit back up, your panties still hidden within. You glanced down at your watch, seeing you only had twenty minutes left. 
You slipped back to your side of the table as if nothing was amiss, but the devious glint in your eyes was undeniable. He was lost and he knew it, already wanting – no, needing – more. So much more. Luckily, it was as you had said; He’d always been good at getting what he wanted.
“I’ve had a really good time tonight, Hannibal,” you sighed contentedly, already aware you would be carrying this with you for the rest of the night. “You sure are good company.”
“As are you,” he said, his voice calmer, though something was lurking underneath. “Perhaps… we might arrange for it to happen soon.”
A thrill danced over your skin at the prospect of it. “Perhaps. Only if you’re on your best behavior.”
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paleshroom · 2 months
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Facts and Parallels in the Latest Helluva Shorts: Mission Antarctica *SPOILERS*
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From this 4-minute animation, we learn the following:
- Work as usual is happening post-Apology Tour and Blitz is bad at portals. (This makes me so especially fucking giddy because it gives more canon-compliance to that speculative fic I wrote before Apology Tour came out).
- Loona is conspicuously absent, even from the office when they’re going in and out of the portal.
- More evidence of Blitz’s dyslexia, struggling with the order of the alphabet and so on. I love the added detail of Blitz dictating things to Moxxie for him to type out.
- More (?) evidence that Blitz is exceptionally terrible at math and likely has the wombo combo of both dyslexia AND dyscalculia. Yowza.
- [edit: After seeing some discussion, I don’t think he’s necessarily bad at oral overall, but there’s a lot he does with Stolas that he certainly did not do for Ver or anyone else, and again cunnilingus is VERY different from rimming.] Blitz has terrible head game, throwing back to when Verosika accused him of not reciprocating. Or, at least, he’s bad with cunnilingus. We can only assume his rim game is better, given the coughed up feathers (Harvest Moon Festival) and the implication of a request to “[face]plant that feathered ass” (Loo Loo Land).
- Blitz considers himself a top.*
- Moxxie has good head game thanks to Millie and being a good partner.
- Blitz still has the Moxxie and Millie minis from the “let’s three-way” scene right before Stolas calls him in Loo Loo Land.
- Millie echoes Asmodeus’s sentiment that lust is not about “brute force.”
- Blitz panics at the idea of treating the crystal “gently” like a lover. He doesn’t do gentle caresses. That’s gay, and the night before (or a few nights ago?) was gay enough.*
- Penguins have multiple xenophobic slurs.
Feel free to add on here!
*Headcanon below the cut.
*HC: this motherfucker is a service top but there have been hints (ie: the strapon in Full Moon) that he and Stolas have likely switched a few times. I think he glosses over this and doesn’t tell anyone about it because he’s told himself he’s fulfilling Stolas’s fantasy, but really this motherfucker wants to put his trust in someone too. If apologies are “for pussies and no one fucking deserves them anyway” but Stolas is the exception, what does that mean for being vulnerable gentle in sex? Actual intimacy? The kind where that person shares the same desire for connection that you do? It’s fucking TERRIFYING. It’s easy to shift glances, sneakily take a picture when the other person doesn’t know, look at it on your phone and dream a hopeless dream in private, reminding yourself that it’s only a dream, that you won’t have it, don’t deserve to have it, and will only end up hurting yourself and everyone around you if you even dare to chase that dream of loving and being loved by another.
I love him so much he’s such a fucking mess.
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arecaceae175 · 1 month
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So I see a common head canon to explain why Sky can sleep in everyone's bed is that after his parents died the village as a whole raised him (I love this headcanon so much)
But that got me thinking. Would young Sky's toys be spread across every house? Would he have to go on a mini hunt across the whole village to try finding which house he left his favorite blanket? Who's cooking does he prefer? How much did people miss him spending the night when he joined the academy?
I just. I had feels with these thoughts, and wanted to share them with you because I know he's you most blorbo shaped boy
HELLO I LOVE THIS!!! That’s adorable actually. I love this so much.
In my head, the islands in the sky are a lot more populated and numerous than shown in the game because of game limitations. It’s a fully functioning society, and Skyloft is the biggest island and the main city, but there are a lot more. Still, I don’t imagine there’s a lot of surplus in supplies and resources. Everyone has to be careful and only use what they have to so that everyone will have enough.
If resources are delegated by household, it would make sense that Sky has to be passed around. No one family would be able to spare the extra food or clothes or toys to take care of him full time. Oh and once little Sky is old enough to really grasp the concept of scarcity, he might feel some guilt at using other families resources. As soon as any of them realize he’s feeling that though they would quickly put an end to it. Everyone there loves him like family.
Skyloft would probably have to have some sort of system for taking care of orphans and like getting a different amount of resources per household but I don’t feel like thinking about that system rn so the headcanon remains 😂
I see a lot of fics with Pipit as Links big brother figure, and I love that headcanon. I imagine he spent a lot of time there. And I think he would’ve spent a lot of time at Zelda’s house too.
Oooohhhhhhhh AH I can see a scene in my head right now. Sky’s at Pipit’s house and Mallara is getting the boys ready for bed but then Sky realizes he doesn’t have his favorite Stuffy, and he CANNOT sleep without it (it’s a Loftwing plush named Brenda because I’m in charge hehehehehe). Sky is distraught and so Pipit comforts him while Mallara goes from door to door trying to find Sky’s Brenda.
He’s so cutie patootie and I love him
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creepling · 1 year
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Johnny fucking Stockholm’d!Reader in the back of one of the old cars behind the family house? 👀 In one of your mini fics you mentioned him taking her out to the sunflower fields, maybe that’s when it happens?
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busted cars and sunsets - j. slaughter / 1k
an: hey i kinda went astray from relating it to the sunflower field drabble but it still has all that other good stuff you asked for!! i also ended up writing more than i thought so i hope you like it<33
tags: smut. MDNI. gn!reader. stockholm syndrome (kinda??). descriptions of trauma. canon-mentions of violence and cannibalism. innocent, sheepish reader. johnny is surprisingly gentle and nice?? but it might be a bluff. making out. grinding. fucking in a car. doggystyle. mentions of kidnapping.
Johnny was looking everywhere for you. Nancy was calling for supper, and you weren’t in the shed like you said you would be. He tried not to think about it too much, the thought of you running away or trying to escape. Maybe you got distracted or went inside for a drink. The sun was setting, and Johnny’s worrying crept up, forming a lump in his throat.
You were sheepish. At least you have been with the Slaughter family. Every minor squeak or crack sent you scattering. Maybe it was the trauma of trying to escape the house, the first time you ate human flesh, or the fact that the family kidnapped you. It’s been so long since the incident that you have begun to accept your fate and grow fond of your captures. Are people still looking for you? Or have they given up like they did with Maria? The thoughts clouded your mind, and you hugged your legs in the back of the rusted car in the Slaughter’s yard.
Johnny realised real quick where you were hiding. He noticed that you liked hiding, growing attached to your company. Johnny wished you grew attached to him, but adjusting to a new life takes a while. That is how he perceived it: you were lucky, the family liked you, and they spared your life. Now you’re one of them, and he can make you happy. Johnny made his way towards the cars, the ones too far gone to fix, and peered inside the busted-out window to see your trembling frame.
“Hey, sweetheart. Why you all bundled up in here?” Johnny said, surprisingly, in a soothing voice. You peeked your head up, giving a meek smile. You like it when he speaks softly. It is the only thing that makes you feel safe. His effort on tenderness is bearable, given the circumstances.
“Nubbin’s trap set off while I was picking flowers. I got scared,” You say. Johnny knew you were telling the truth from the look in your eyes. He motioned his hand to your ankle, checking for injury. “Don’t worry,” You reassure, cringing, “It didn’t get me.”
Johnny let out a stressful sigh. “That darn idiot. I’m gonna beat him over the head,” Johnny spat under his breath. He looked over at you, seeing you back into the corner as he displayed anger. He relaxed his cold stare and slowly opened the rusty door, sliding into the seat next to you and resting his hand on your knee.
“You got nothing to be scared about. No one’s gonna hurt you no more. Nubbins is just being reckless with his traps. Y’know, he puts them around to catch the rabbits.” Johnny reassures, levelling with reason in hopes you calm you down.
You sat silently until another call for supper came from inside the house. You looked at Johnny, twiddling a piece of string from your shirt. “I’m not really hungry,” You mutter, “Sorry…”
Johnny nodded in understanding, rubbing your calf with a gentle stroke. “That’s all right, darlin’. You can eat whenever you feel like it,” He knew Nancy wouldn’t like that much, but he certainly would protect you if she nagged you for it.
“Can we stay in here for a while? Watch the sunset?” You enquire, the thought of it making you smile. Appreciating the small things became a method to keep your sanity. It also made excuses for being around the house, a place you find troubling.
“Alright, but we go inside once the sun’s down, okay?” Johnny reasoned, and you nodded happily. 
You crawl over to Johnny and rest your head on his chest, spotting the sun meeting the horizon at your eye level. Johnny only had his eyes on you, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, his tongue sliding along his bottom lip in thought.
“It’s beautiful,” You mutter, charmed by the colours in the evening sky.
“You’re beautiful,” Johnny claimed, his body sensing bashfulness prevail over you.
You look into his eyes, a slight smirk on Johnny’s face as he admires your innocence. Subconsciously, Johnny’s lips lean closer to yours. You stood still like time was frozen, fluttering your eyes shut when he kissed you.
He was rough but passionate as if to prove something to you. His hands explore you, cupping the back of your neck, grasping your thighs, tracing circles on the small of your back. You would be lying if you didn’t find it pleasant, giggling as he nibbled on your bottom lip, whispering sweet nothings. Your hips grind against him, feeling Johnny’s hot breath on your cheek as he gasped. 
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, darlin’,” He chuckled, “You’ll get me worked up,”
“I can’t help it,” You laughed, your words conflicting with your innocent tone.
“Keep going,” Johnny purred, resting his hands on your waist and guiding your hips. You comply, watching the lustful stare in his eyes as he admires the movement of your body. You hike your shirt up, teasing him as you expose your stomach, slowly raising it until your chest greets his stare. Johnny gazes longingly up at you before entangling you into his hands and kissing you roughly.
“I need you so bad,”
The sun was greeting the horizon, the sky a deep tangerine, matching the tarnished colouring of the car. Your hand presses against the window, and a deep moan breaks loose from your confounded expression.
“Keep going, please, please-” You plead, gripping the busted leather seats to adjust to Johnny’s length inside you.
Johnny hunches over your body, teeth scraping down your spine, holding you in place with his rough hands. Estranged strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Sweat highlights the arc of his muscles.
“You’re so good for me,” He pants. He had to make this quick; otherwise, the family would set out looking for him. He feels you tightening around him, making him bend further down and grip your shoulders, burying his face into your neck.
Johnny’s groans grew husky, sending shivers down your spine. Arching your back, you grind into him. The profoundness of his cock inside you makes you fumble over your moans.
“Yes, baby. That’s it,” Johnny encouraged, rutting into you. “Keep fucking going.”
The rate of Johnny shagging into you eventually lends him his climax, and yours perfectly lines up with his. Both of your clothes are hanging by threads on your bodies. You collapse in each other's arms. His arms engulf you as you straddle his lap, your eyes drunk with lust, admiring your kidnapper, your disastrous love affair. 
“You’ll never leave me, will you?” Johnny asked, staring into your soul, soaking in everything about you.
“I would never,” You breathe out.
“Promise?” Johnny pleaded, brushing a strand of hair from your glistening face, basking in your doe-like glow.
“I promise,” You whisper, kissing the scars on his knuckles. Your mind goes astray, maybe from the lustrous high or because you made a promise you might not keep.
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jeannineee · 1 year
Text
Umbra et Ventus
Azriel x Reader
a/n: so I recently wrote a little thing called ‘Devotion,’ and I loved it so much that I wanted to make a mini-fic somewhat based on it.
So, reader is half-fae, from the Continent. She was enslaved during her time there, but managed to escape (we’ll learn how eventually 😉). She’s currently a refugee in Velaris, working alongside Madja as a healer. This fic is a bit of a slowburn, so bear with me.
Also, requests are open for headcanons, and short blurbs/drabbles, but I will be prioritizing this fic!! Love you guys!
PART TWO
warnings: canon-typical themes, allusions to PTSD. Emetophobia warning also at the beginning!!
Sweat dribbled down your face, coated your palms as you hugged the rim of the toilet. Your body shook with the force it took to hurl the contents of your stomach. You stayed there, heaving, for what felt like hours.
Your exhaustion became so rampant that you couldn’t even drag yourself to bed. You laid on the bathroom floor, sighing in relief as the cold tiles embraced your clammy skin.
As sleep beckoned you once again, you prayed that you might be free of nightmares, this time.
~~~~~~~~~
The sound of banging on your door roused you from your short-lived sleep. You pulled yourself off of the floor, hurriedly readying yourself for the day, before answering to a very obviously annoyed Madja.
“You were supposed to be at the infirmary an hour ago,” Madja said by way of greeting, before shoving her way into your tiny apartment, heading straight into your kitchen.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, voice hoarse. “I’ll be on time tomorrow.”
Madja gave you a once-over, before returning her attention to the tea she was already preparing. “I’ll bring you a different tea tonight, to help with the sleep. And the nightmares.”
You blinked. How could she know?
As though she could read your mind, Madja said, “There are dark circles around your eyes, and you’re the most tired female I’ve ever met.” She poured the grey-ish tea into a mug, passing it to you. “How long have you been having the nightmares?”
You sipped the tea, grimacing slightly at the leafy taste. “I can’t recall a time I didn’t have them,” you replied, hating the truth to the statement. “But they’ve been worse since…”
“Since you escaped,” Madja finished your sentence, matter-of-fact.
Madja was one of the first people you came across, when your ship docked in Velaris. She, alongside countless other healers, examined every single refugee that sought haven in the Court of Dreams. You weren’t sure why, but before she’d even cleared you to leave, she offered you a position at the Infirmary. For the last six weeks, you’d spent your days training under her.
You cleared your throat, finally confirming her words. “Yes. They’ve worsened since I escaped.”
Madja nodded. “As I said, the tea I’ll bring you tonight should help. Though you may need to consider other methods.”
“Such as?”
“Talking about your experiences.”
You shook your head, setting the tea aside. “I don’t see how talking about—“
“Y/n, you know as well as I do, healing the mental wounds that a traumatic experience leaves is just as important as healing the physical wounds.”
When you didn’t argue, Madja continued, “You’ve been in Velaris for well over a month, and the only people you’ve spoken to besides me are the other trainees at the Infirmary, and even then, communication is minimal.
“You’re beautiful. You’re young. You need to make friends; create a support system. In fact, I have a friend that holds classes for painting. She’d love to have you. Perhaps you’ll find a friend there.”
“I’m terrible at painting,” you muttered, sipping at your tea.
Madja gave you a look that said it wasn’t up for debate. “You’re attending that class,” she said, walking away long enough to find parchment and a pen. She jotted down what looked to be an address, before passing it to you. “Take today off. The class starts in an hour. She’ll have all the supplies you need.”
~~~~~~~~~
Rain pelted your umbrella as you made your way through the artist’s quarter. People milled about, admiring paintings and pottery and sculptures through glass windows.
As you stood outside of the studio Madja sent you to, you debated going home. As if in response, thunder boomed overhead. Deciding that you didn’t want the Mother to strike you down, you closed your umbrella, holding your breath as you entered.
Oh. This wasn’t so bad.
The studio was small, and cozy. Paint-splattered easels lined the room, in three rows of five. Much to your dismay, the only open easel was at the front of the room.
Directly across from the instructor.
You silently made your way to the front of the room, taking your seat.
“Hello,” the instructor said to you, smiling gently. “I’m Feyre.”
“Y/n,” you replied, returning her smile.
“We were just getting started. We’re working on the basics, today: color theory, textures, value, perception.”
You politely nodded along like you understood, grabbing the same brushes as she did. Within a couple of hours, you had a piss-poor excuse of a mountain range painted. You didn’t dare look at anyone else’s.
As everyone began filing out of the studio, your mind swam with the words ‘I told you so.’ You were almost excited to say those same words to Madja, until Feyre tapped your shoulder.
“Good work today, y/n.”
“Thank you.”
Feyre smiled warmly. “I was told by Madja that you’re new to Velaris?”
Of course Madja told her.
“I am.” Your tone was a bit short, but Feyre didn’t seem at all fazed.
“Well, I would love to show you around, sometime. There’s this really good restaurant down by the Sidra that my friends and I go to often. A few of us are going there this evening, actually, if you want to join?”
No, immediately rang through your mind, but your mouth betrayed you.
“Sure. That sounds nice.”
Feyre grinned, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate it.
~~~~~~~~~
When Feyre had mentioned a “few” friends, you’d been expecting two, maybe three.
You certainly weren’t expecting two abnormally tall Illyrians, a short female who personified the saying “If looks could kill,” a bubbly blonde female who introduced herself as Mor, and Feyre’s mate—the High Lord of the Night Court.
Somehow, in her infinite wisdom, Madja had conveniently forgotten to mention that the woman instructing your painting classes was High Lady.
“So, y/n,” Rhysand drawled, hand interlocked with Feyre’s, “Feyre says you’re a rather skilled painter.”
“Feyre is being generous,” you replied, sipping your wine.
Feyre rolled her eyes. “You might not see it, y/n, but you have a lot of potential.”
“And that, at least, puts you a step above Cassian,” Mor cut in, shooting you a wink.
“A newborn would have better painting skills than Cassian,” the short one—Amren, added.
Cassian, the larger of the two Illyrians, placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Rude,” he said, before turning his attention to you. “You came from the Continent?”
You nodded. “From Vallahan.”
“What did you do there?”
Rhys shot Cassian a subtle warning look, but you still noticed it. You gave Cassian a pained smile. Might as well rip the bandage off.
“I was enslaved.”
All of their eyes were on you, and you silently cursed yourself, praying that you would simply sink into your cushioned chair and never return.
Even the male with the shadows—Azriel—showed a hint of surprise at your reveal. Cassian looked just as embarrassed as you, and the look Rhys was giving him now would’ve sent lesser males running.
Fortunately, Mor cut in. “I’m glad you’re here now. Madja says you’re one of her best students, and we could always use more healers, especially with the influx of refugees Velaris has been receiving.”
You cleared your throat, taking a long sip of your wine. “Madja has been an excellent teacher.”
“Madja also says you have…abilities?” Amren asked, studying you like a predator does its prey.
What didn’t Madja tell them?
“I do. But it’s…dormant. I haven’t been able to access my magic since I was a child,” you explained, suddenly feeling exposed under Amren’s gaze.
“I can smell it on you,” Amren said, her silver eyes raking over you. “There’s power in your blood, girl.”
Your eyes met Amren’s then, part of you recoiling, another part of you curious. Power?
Rhysand cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for my families’ invasiveness, y/n. It seems they have no manners.”
You smiled, though it didn’t quite meet your eyes. “It’s alright. I expected a lot of questions.”
“They did the same to me, if it makes you feel any better,” Feyre said.
It didn’t, but at least the rest of the dinner went by rather smoothly. Rhys paid the bill, offering another apology before leaving alongside Mor, Cassian, and Azriel.
“I hope we didn’t offend you with all of the questions,” Feyre told you as she walked you back to your apartment.
“You didn’t. I’m just not used to it. Honestly, I haven’t spent much time around people since I arrived,” you said, before adding with a nervous laugh, “That’s a bit embarrassing to admit.”
Feyre shook her head. “I’ve been there. Nothing embarrassing about it,” she said, glancing up at the starry sky. “I hope you know that we’re friends now.”
You arched a brow. “After one dinner?”
Feyre laughed. “Absolutely. Someone has to help me deal with my family. And you need someone to teach you how to paint something better than blobs.”
You joined in on her laughter. “I knew you were just being overly-nice about my painting!”
The laughter died down as the two of you stood on your front porch. Feyre smiled. “If you want to, we’re going out to Rita’s, tomorrow night. Just drinks and dancing.”
“I don’t have a dress.”
Feyre’s smile turned into a grin. “Good. We’ll go shopping in the morning.” She pulled you in for a hug before you had time to react. “I’ll be here at ten,” was all Feyre said before winnowing away.
~~~~~~
You settled into bed for the night after finishing the new tea Madja had dropped off. It tasted almost as bad as the one you drank that morning.
You thought of what Amren had said at dinner.
There’s power in your blood.
What did she mean?
And then you thought of the unrealistically attractive males—Azriel and Cassian. Azriel had barely said a word. Odd. Perhaps you’d be able to speak to him tomorrow night.
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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 months
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hi guys!
so it's come to my attention that this whole few series might be a little confusing to read in a particular order so I'm just gonna try and narrow the explanation down a little bit...
so in order to probably understand monkey's personality first i would read a few bits from chaos fc which starts of as an aussie pest and an english pest who are best friends and love to cause chaos together!
these 5 fics are based around their time in melbourne and what they get up too
↪ i'm never babysittin' again! | mission: chaos fc | yer' a pair of pests! | wheres' dumb and dumber? | come get yer' kid!
from there there's a few fic's that follow on from this with monkey's different adventures in scotland and nashville, where's up to no good as usual
↪ wee' bit of haggis in scotland | yeehaw' it's cowgirl era | you can kiss my ass, cowboy!
following on from these if you want to read more about monkey's past then i suggest reading a lot of reserved feelings which kinda goes into the small details about monkey's reserved side when she first moved in with leah and jordan
there is also a bunch of head canons and blurbs that are related to this as well which will help to understand monkey's past better in monkey's background and i think it is also briefly mentioned in monkey moves in
after this i would recommend reading the separate mini series in which this introduces buddy and it gives a bit of an insight into what she is like and how she handles the separation between her two mums but this is wrote around the same time as monkey returns from her adventures in nashville
there's several more head canons/blurbs that are related to buddy through the time before she was born in ivf and pregnancy and and and even the introduction between monkey meeting buddy for the first time
if you wanted to read about the gender reveal of buddy then i would recommend the flashback fic to finding out the gender of buddy in oh baby! which is in the buddy & monkey series where monkey is so excited about it
the whole buddy and monkey: double the trouble series is pretty self explanatory and it's mostly about the two of them and the adventures they get up too, together
however, there's a few i would recommend reading together which would be the bubbles are pink, jackass! and then the farmyard adventures since that follows on from the swear jar fiasco
from there there's a couple of fics that are not really planned to go in any particular order which are buddy's first words as well as no more money for monkey and we brought a puppy home
there's also a good couple of head canons and blurbs related to this series the break up | euro final | buddy cheering monkey up | zoo adventures | training days | kimmy the babysitter
also the social media aspect of it which is reunited again and monkey's lioness debut
following along with the head canons and blurbs there's several in chaos fc which can be read in any particular order as well leah being drunk | making a fool of herself | monkey encouraging leah to drink more | monkey winding leah up the morning | captain kimmy & monkey blurb | england call up | media duties with monkey & kyra and continental cup celebrations
the four most current ones at the minute are the glastonbury mini series following onto both parts of whoa, we're going to ibiza I and whoa, we're going to ibiza II then from that its' my most current work which is the the haunting nightmares of the past
i hope this somewhat helps and it's not incredibly confusing to read now - there's more to come for all this so i will update this as and when i can!
and as always if you have any questions about anything then please feel free to continue to ask me anything whether it's anonymous or not, i love answering questions about this chaotic pair! 💗
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s0fti3w1tch · 2 years
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Tentative Devotee AU (TBC Soon)
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Leonardo is a Foot trainee, raised and trained by Lieutenant and Brute since he was 9. Life before then is fuzzy at best. — In the past several months, he's been going on his first proper missions, quickly aware of a persistent threat against the Foot Clan: 3 mutant turtles and a human who've foiled them time and time again.
What he wasn't aware of was that they were 4 siblings who never gave up on finding their missing brother.
CONTENT WARNING! This AU will explore: Mourning of family / Mourning of a child (who isn't actually dead, but believed to be). Violence is canon-typical up to the standards of the movie— That is also a reference point for the tone of this AU. There will be cult themes and dips into the topic of cult trauma, alongside family issues.
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Main Comic:
Enemies || [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ tbc... ]
Baby Blue || [coming soon]
[TBA]
Minisodes/Mini-Comic:
Donnie's Apology Gift
First Mission Mishaps!
PSAs: Triggering Content, Why Leo will not have a "Dark Side," Cult Parents
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More content below the cut! ♥︎
Scrapped/Changed Ideas or Scenes:
"Maybe this is the lowest point of my life" / Severing Ties
Usagi's first design + role
Mona Lisa first design
Reference Sheets:
Leonardo's Room
UPDATED LEO FULL REF
Leo's Outfit Change + Sorta-Timeline
Hand Marking
Scarf
Leo's Guitar
Eyes (outdated)
Nail Polish
Butterfly Charm
Future!TD!Leo
Usagi WIP
Doodles:
More Lore/Story Heavy = ♥︎ / Just More Fun = ☀︎ / 💬 = answer to an ask
Leo Solo!
"Keep it together, Leo"
"What I know about family?"
He/They/Xe of the day! / Speed-Color ☀︎
Scooter Boy! ☀︎
He's Writing Fanfic ☀︎
Guac Baby ☀︎
"Yeah, of course! But also..." ☀︎
Animation Test
No Sleep
[ i was listening to sonic music while drawing this ] ☀︎
disillusionment
Cook :P ☀︎
3 Swords?! ☀︎ 💬
Peepaw'd :) 💬
Head Empty + Leo kinda mad ♥︎ 💬
Blep! 💬
Feelings Down ♥︎💬
Multi POV
TD Spoilers Over Memes [1]
Trust in the Foot ♥︎ 💬
"Keep your brother safe" ♥︎ 💬
Big Sisters ♥︎
Turtle Sister to Turtle Sister 💬
Foot Clan Family
Motorcycle Theft! 💬
Shell Cracks + A Small Moment ♥︎ 💬
Trans Sibs!!! ☀︎ 💬
Hamato Clan
Not Growing With Us ♥︎💬
Recognition? 💬 ♥︎
"Donnie, stay out of this"
Unknown Tension
Protective Older Twin 💬
"Can we be brothers?" 💬
Donnie's hope (colored ver: here)
"Donnie, whatcha got there?" ☀︎
Drawing for Donnie 1
Yōkai Connections
Hueso's First Encounter With Leo 💬
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+ All my AU Crossover Content linked here~!
Separated Leo Crossover : Bathtub Arc ☀︎
Preview Comic (Test)
TMNT AU Competition Basketball Saga ☀︎
DOUBLE-HANDED BACKHAND SWING
Nail Bat Recieved
Leo Hype Squad!
No PomPoms
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I didn't intend for this AU to be that big, but I realized I did want to give this a go and make at least something. It's my goal to finish this project eventually.
The AU will be told in segments, comics of various points of the story.
Bonus! Miscellaneous info that doesn't play big into this AU but matters enough to me:
Leonardo is transmasculine, uses he/they/xe pronouns and is referred to with primarily masculine terms.
A version of Stan Sakai's Usagi Yojimbo comics exists and it's Leo's second favorite comic series in this AU.
'Tentative Devotee' is the name of the fanfic I was originally going to write. It was just gonna be a 2-shot fic and a way to navigate some feelings as someone who was born and raised in, and eventually left, a cult.
The initial tone/direction of this AU was much different, Leo ending up in the Foot Clan under different circumstance (i.e. direct kidnapping from Lieutenant and Brute). I found this didn't quite work for me.
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