#If you are not safe here you are not safe anywhere but here you are a human rifle to whom one man has ultimate say

[ellecdc]

Our Baby Has Four Feet?

poly!moonwater x pregnant!reader who find out they're having twins

CW: pregnancy, ultrasounds etc. I didn’t see either of the boys recovering from this advance the twins had on them - but I’m still dying that we could not decide who we’d prefer to be the bio dad hahahaha

This was the second moment in your pregnancy that you were convinced that Wizardingkind’s claim at being further advanced than muggles was completely unfounded. A simple charm cast on you at St. Mungo’s confirmed that you were, indeed, pregnant. But it was a muggle blood test at a walk-in clinic that told you how far along you were.

So, when Lily told you, Remus, and Regulus that she went to a muggle OBGYN for ultrasounds during her pregnancy with Harry, the boys were obsessed with the idea of getting to see the little life growing inside of you.

You found a clinic that was was understanding of your…unique lifestyle, and sat in a small room waiting for the doctor after being checked in by a nurse. 

“Regulus, please stop pacing.” You said quietly, repositioning yourself on the uncomfortable medical bed and wincing when the paper tore beneath you.

“Sorry.” He mumbled quickly as he sat down on one of the chairs, trapping his hands underneath him as if that would help his nervous fidgeting. 

“It’s going to be fine, bubs. This is standard; my mum had one done when she was pregnant with me.” Remus placated.

“Okay…okay, so it’s not invasive?”

You laughed. “Reggie, nothing happens. They just touch a camera to my belly and it shows what’s inside.”

Regulus blanched at that. “Will the baby feel it?”

Neither you nor Remus got to answer (or laugh at him) when the door opened and a Doctor wearing a bright smile entered the room. 

“Hello! You must be our mama?” She asked as she extended a hand to you, carrying on at your nod in affirmation. 

“My name is Doctor Bozelli. So, we’re here for an ultrasound?”

You nodded and looked towards Remus. “We’re about 19 weeks along now. This is our first ultrasound and our first pregnancy so we’re all a little new at this.” He explained to the doctor

“Well mazel tov! Alright; and are we finding out the sex of the baby?”

“I am, they won’t be.” You answered, causing the doctor’s face to spread into a cheeky smile.

“Okay, dads are leaving it as a surprise, got it. Okay mama, lean back for me and raise your top.”

You did as instructed as the doctor sanitized her hands and donned a pair of medical gloves.

“Alright, I’m just going to pull these down a little lower and tuck a sheet in so we don’t get gel on your trousers.”

You had no time to feel self conscious at so much of your midsection showing with an audience of three before the doctor was shaking a bottle of ultrasound gel.

“Now, this is going to feel cold, okay?” She said as she hovered it over your stomach.

“It’s not going to hurt her, is it?” Regulus asked hastily, earning him a none-too-gentle elbow in the side from Remus. 

“Ignore him; I do.” You offered the doctor, voice coloured in embarrassment. 

“Everything is perfectly safe, dad.” She placated as she spread the - sure enough - cold gel over your stomach and placed the doppler over the area. 

The room was quiet as the doctor searched for…well, you supposed the baby, though there really wasn’t anywhere for them to hide.

“This is your first ultrasound you said?” The doctor queried, causing Regulus to stand up quickly. 

“Yes.” You offered at the same time as Regulus barked “what’s wrong?”

The doctor chuckled before she responded. “Nothing’s wrong dad. Look.” 

She turned the screen towards the three of you and both boys learned further overtop of you to get a better look. 

“I….I’m so sorry but what are we supposed to be looking at?” Remus said; braver than you and Reg to admit you had no idea what was going on.

“See here?” The doctor said as she pointed to two little blobs that you could almost feel pushing into your stomach. “These are a pair of feet.”

The doctor was interrupted by the sound of Remus ‘awe’-ing before she continued.

“And these here are another pair.”

The room fell painfully silent as the three of you stared at the monitor.

“Our baby has four feet?” Regulus breathed out in disbelief. 

The doctor chuckled as she moved the doppler slightly and pointed out something else on the screen. “Well, seeing as there are two heartbeats; I’d reckon it’s less that one baby has four feet and more that there are two babies.”

“Two heartbeats?” Remus breathed out.

“One of them’s mine, right?” You asked nervously. 

The teasing that the doctor’s face had when speaking with Regulus and Remus fell into a more serious expression as she smiled at you. “No, mum. We wouldn’t see the fluttering of your pulse down here.”

The room stayed silent as the doctor moved the camera over your stomach; snapping screenshots every so often as she went. 

“Twins?” 

The doctor hummed in confirmation at Remus’ question as she took a few more pictures.

“One appears to be smaller than the other though, which would suggest they were not conceived at the same time.”

Regulus choked on air as he began pacing again. “Can’t one just be smaller than the other?” He asked; his voice taking on an almost shrill quality. 

“Not when the size difference is this dramatic, no. One of the twins is younger, I’d say by perhaps two weeks”

“Shut up.” You barked, causing all three heads to turn in your direction.

“Dove, it-”

“Shut up. No, one of the heartbeat’s is mine.”

“Amour, try to take some deep breaths, yeah?” Reg tried as he put a gentle hand on your ankle.

You kicked at him. 

“Don’t touch me. Did Sirius put you up to this?” You asked the doctor severely.

“S…Serious?”

“My brother; he’s a prankster.” Regulus explained at the doctors confusion. 

“No mama, this isn’t a prank. It’s called superfetation; though rare, your body can release two or more eggs during the same menstrual cycle, which can then be fertilized at different points.” She explained as if she were reciting notes from her medical student’s textbook. 

You stared unseeingly at the monitor that displayed not one, but two of your future children as Remus and Regulus continued asking questions.

“Are both of them healthy?” Regulus asked first, to which the doctor agreed quickly. 

“The younger one seems to be developing normally; their sibling hasn’t been strong-holding them for space or nutrients.”

“What can we expect from this type of pregnancy?” Remus asked.

“Does this increase certain risks for mum or babies?” Regulus added. 

“Oh, Merlin.” You breathed quietly, covering your face with your hands.

Remus’ hand was quickly on your shoulder, and whatever had compelled you to kick out at Regulus before was long gone as you turned towards Remus; his hand feeling like a grounding point keeping you from floating off into oblivion. 

“I’ll give you guys a few moments, okay?” The doctor asked quietly and excused herself after passing you some paper towel for the gel on your stomach. 

You let out an embarrassing hiccup as you pulled the cloth from your trousers, but Regulus’ hands were quickly taking over the task for you.

Remus had one hand on your shoulder and the other cradling your head as his thumb strokes at the baby hairs near your temple, allowing you to silently cry. 

Unfortunately, the gentle and loving way Regulus cleaned your stomach and righted your clothing only made you cry harder.

“Come on, sit up dove.” Remus encouraged as he pulled you up by your arms. 

Once you were sat upright, he was crouching down in front of you as Regulus moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your midsection - hands landing protectively over your growing stomach - as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“That was quite the news, huh?” Remus asked quietly as he drew circles with his thumb on your thigh.

You nodded your head yes as new tears fell. 

“But sweetheart, you’ve grown two healthy babies and you didn’t even know it. You’re doing a wonderful job.” Regulus insisted, voice muffled as he pressed his lips into your jaw. 

“I know this is more than we bargained for, but I think we can manage between the three of us, yeah?” Remus offered, causing Regulus to scoff.

“Please, we won’t be able to keep their aunts and uncles away.”

You chuckled wetly at that as you wiped at your face. “Can we not tell them?”

“Tell who what, amour?”

“I don’t want to tell anyone it’s twins; let’s just surprise them.”

Regulus scoffed as Remus let out a boisterous laugh. “Absolutely mischievous dove, I love it. This is the best prank the Marauders will never see coming.”

“It would be nice to see my brother struck dumb.” Regulus mused.

“Then it’s settled.” Remus murmured, pressing his ear to your stomach. “Our babies will be born pranksters.”

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #moonwater #remus lupin x regulus black #poly!moonwater x reader #poly!moonwater x you #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x pregnant!reader #pregnant!reader #fluff #twins

[koiibiito]

In which kinks is enzo vogrincic? What do you think?

this got out of hand. because it’s enzo vogrincic we’re dealing with here and i can talk about him for hours ♡ ♡

praise, dumbification, voyeurism, marking, choking. bonus: finger sucking (my personal favorite)

— I have a feeling that even after you started dating, he keeps it more on the vanilla side of things— just to be safe, to make sure you’re 100% comfortable in the bedroom, so it’s more than likely you’ll be coaxing him into telling you what certain things turn him on. But he’s a very diligent and determined person in general, so he definitely makes up for all the lost time with his enthusiasm.

— Soft dom persona, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t freaky. In fact, the boys know he’s one of the freakiest in the bedroom.

— Because, once the awkwardness and hesitant stage is over,,,

— He truly is in heaven in between your thighs. Maybe it’s an ego thing, but he adores hearing his name leave your lips breathlessly and endlessly, loves to see the way you arch your back or twist your fingers in his hair. And when you try to push him away but his mouth stays latched onto your cunt? Holy shit.

— While on the topic of giving oral, he wants you sitting on his face, or hoisting you up against the wall, your legs perched on his shoulders. he loves the way you slowly and eventually give into him, trusting him to hold you up, or noticing how you no longer hold yourself up and you’re just pushing your cunt down against his mouth shamelessly. He loves it!!!

— He does love to receive oral too. He still would never really initiate it, but he never declines. He doesn’t fuck your throat all the time, per se, but he can cum in seconds if you deepthroat him. He will unintentionally thrust up into your mouth and have his cock graze your throat, and yes when he really gets into it, he grabs your hair and pushes your face harsher and deeper against him, forcing you to swallow more of him. Especially when he’s seated, he doubles over almost over at the feel of your warm mouth around him.

— In regards to where he likes to cum,, well

— Enzo probably really likes it messy ngl

— So if you’re blowing him, almost always, he will pull out and cum on the tip of your tongue, smearing the tip of his cock all along your lips. If it gets anywhere else, he’ll collect it on the tips of his fingers and push them into your mouth.

— Enzo definitely has a thing for you sucking on his fingers holy shit. He absolutely loves just shoves them into your mouth while you two are fucking, or just pushes them onto your tongue to force your mouth open so that you’re drenching his palm and your chin with drool. I’m telling y’all, he likes it messy.

— The same way he pulls out of your mouth to see you coated in his cum, more often than not he’ll do the same as he’s fucking you. He’ll pull out till the tip of his cock barely rests inside of you, spilling all over your inner walls. But because of how he isn’t really inside of you, it so easily seeps out of you, which then he’s given the courtesy of fucking it back into you. this is so filthy im so sorry.

— Enzo’s both a boobs and ass man. Can’t convince me otherwise. Of course, he loves titties, can kiss and suck at them for days, but the ass,,,

— It’s not even sexual at this point he just likes groping you in general

— I also believe Enzo’s a huge kisser during sex. Like he’s always either sloppily kissing all over your mouth, sucking on your tongue, both your lips glossy because of the saliva. Or he’s serenely kissing you, both hands cupping your cheeks as he fucks into you at a steady pace, so deep, not insanely fast, not teasingly slow

— You know that face grabbing thing that some do during sex? Like your eyes are rolling back and your face is red and your mouth is hanging open, your tongue slightly lolling out and you’re so far gone? At that point Enzo would absolutely adore just grabbing your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks together. You just look so pretty like this beneath him. Like i said, he’s definitely a top,,,

— now onto the kinks …… which is the question im supposed to answer anyways but i got so severely sidetracked

— Praise kink! Huge praise kink! He loves to praise you, he loves you praising him. You should tell him how good he feels, how he’s perfect for you, and he’ll tell you all about how pretty you look beneath him/on top of him like this, how well you take him, such a good girl…

— Dumbification kink. Enzo is not a mean dom. He is not going to explicitly degrade you and call you stupid, or stupid for his cock specifically, but he loves seeing how so visibly your mind hazes over, how you willingly let him do anything to you because you trust him all that much.

— Dacryphilia. It ties into dumbification. He does not want to hurt you, he just likes seeing you so overwhelmed with pleasure that tears start to fill your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. It’s not a sadism thing, honestly, it’s more of a guarantee that yes, you’re enjoying yourself this much.

— If you look in his eyes with your teary ones as he is fucking you, he will nut asap.

— Voyeurism, but in the sense that he wants to watch you pleasure yourself. He strikes me as someone that is very possessive of their partner, so he wouldn’t want anyone else to see you in such a state, only him. But he really does get off to watching you, like so much.

— During threesomes, if any, he would be patient enough to watch someone else (only someone he trusts) try to give you pleasure. Would give them instructions that can help you feel good. A subtle way of telling them that while he’s nice enough to share you with them, you’re still entirely his.

— Marking. Again: possessive. He loves marking you in any possible way, which means whether it’s from his bruising grip on your waist and hips or his lips and teeth sinking into every other part of your body. Breeding.

— Choking. He will never lay a hand on you, and he’d never trust himself to ever choke you. But you managed to convince him that the pressure around your throat adds to the pleasure. So he obliges, because he’s all yours. And he has to admit that it does feel nice to have his hands wrapped around your throat, so small in comparison to him.

okay im so sorry this was so long i have too much to say and im not even done

#lsdln x reader #lsdln smut #enzo vogrincic smut #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 13)

Masterpost

Danny was holding Jason’s hand so tight he felt like his fingers were creaking but Jason wasn’t about to say anything. They were waiting in the doctor's office for Danny’s first ultrasound and Jason was accompanying him as promised, if Danny needed to squeeze his hand that was what Danny needed to do then so be it, it was better the bolting, which it looked like he was considering. Leslie didn’t usually make people wait long but when she had an emergency she had an emergency, it didn’t matter that Bruce funded her clinic, and was sitting awkwardly in one corner, they could wait.

It had been decided that as Danny’s guardian and maybe boyfriend? Bruce and Jason would be the ones to go in with him, with Danny’s agreement of course. Jazz and Dick had both wanted to come too but they didn’t want to crowd the room or overwhelm Danny so it was decided they would stay close by but not come In. Just then they were waiting together at a cafe across the road in case they were needed.

“Alright, I’m sorry to keep you both waiting but you know how Gotham is,” Leslie said a little grim-faced and still stripping off bloody gloves as she walked into their room and tossed them into the trash can. “So, Danny right,” Danny nodded. “Will you come with me into a private room for your examination?” She asked, because of course she did, the phrasing too was carefully worded to not put him on the spot so if Danny was feeling at all threatened or uncomfortable about Jason and Bruce being there he wouldn’t be blamed for following her. 

“You don’t have to,” She added quickly when Danny looked panicked and clung to Jason so tight Jason couldn’t help wincing. “We can move forward with the appointment if them being here makes you more comfortable?” 

Danny nodded quickly so she nodded as well and sat down at her desk, opening a file on her computer. “So, you’re here for an ultrasound right?” She glanced over and Danny nodded again, he seemed to be feeling really shy, Jason had never seen him so nervous, Bruce looked worried. “But it says here you haven’t had a check up in years so would you mind if we do a general exam first? I would like to make sure that You are healthy before we move on to the babies.”

“Yes that’s fine, but you know I’m not fully human right?” Danny asked, she paused for barely a moment. 

“I was told you had some differences,” she confirmed gingerly. “What should I expect?”

“Well, my heart rate is naturally slower than it used to be, and my body temperature is lower. Like I get to ‘healthy human’ temperatures when I have a bad fever. I don’t know what else has changed, honestly. I’ve been avoiding the doctor ever since my accident because I knew how my parents would react,” he said sounding tired and resigned.

“Well then we’ll take today as a paceline and monitor changes. If you’re feeling well today?” She suggested, she probably would have liked to get a baseline before Danny was pregnant but obviously that was impossible. 

“Ya that’s fine, my heartrate is probably a bit fast because I’m nervous but I’m probably healthier then I’ve been in a while. I haven’t been getting into fights and I’ve been eating regularly after all!”

“Alright. I understand but there’s no need to be nervous. This is a safe environment, I won’t do anything that’s not medically necessary.”

“I know, if Bruce and Jason didn’t speak so highly of you I wouldn’t be here. They don’t seem to see eye to eye on much so if they both trust and like you you must be good,” Danny said with a little smile though he was still tense and pale. That anxiety wasn’t going anywhere fast. In the corner Brace gave a sort of strangled cough that had Jason glaring at him even though he didn’t really know what it meant.

“Alright, then let’s get started,” She said before she started Danny’s check-up, all of the normal things a doctor would do if a bit more thorough. Checking eyes, mouth, ears, heart and lungs, and reflexes, circulation and blood pressure. His heartbeat was slow and his blood pressure was low but Danny thought that was probably normal for him? She gave an unconvinced hum. “We’ll have weekly check ups and check it again then. If it’s sustained and doesn’t affect you then we can say it’s normal for you.” She agreed. 

“Alright, well based on the information you’ve told me I think we’ve established a baseline and you’re healthy. Are you ready for your ultrasound?” She asked and Danny took a deep breath, Jason, still standing next to Danny, squeezed his hand gently.

“Ya, as ready as I’ll ever be,” Danny agreed. 

“Thank you, just lay back and pull up your shirt please,” Dr. Leslie requested and Danny did as she’d asked as she pulled up the little monitor and set things up. In the background Bruce shifted so he could see the screen better. “There won’t be much to see,” Leslie warned, shooting Bruce a look as she applied the ultrasound gel. “It’s still too early.”

She put on a fresh pair of gloves and grabbed the wand, “Alright, let's have a look.” She said, pressing it carefully against Danny’s stomach. 

Danny had let go of Jason’s hand while he lay down but now he grabbed around for Jason again, without looking away from the screen now showing inside his abdomen. Jason stepped closer and grabbed Danny’s hand, looking at his face rather than anything else, monitoring for signs the trepidation there might be getting to be too much. He knew Danny was nervous, but they didn’t want this to progress into a panic attack. 

“There they are. Oh! Two, twins. You’re further along than I expected, 10 weeks by the looks of it?” She asked glancing at Danny who nodded. 

“Ya, I’ve only been carrying them for 6 but they’re test tube babies,” he confirmed, his eyes fixed on the screen. 

“Ah,” She sounded, nodding her understanding. “The little round things below their hearts are odd. Do they have two hearts? No, those ones aren’t beating…”

“Those are their cores,” Danny murmured before it seemed to hit him and he looked at Jason, his eyes wide with panic. “Oh my god I AM actually pregnant, it’s not just the cores, I’m pregnant, oh my god I’m pregnant,” he was starting to hyperventilate. 

Dr. Leslie pulled back and Danny practically threw himself into Jason’s arm who held him tight as Danny hid against his chest and trembled. “Do you want us to call Jazz?” Jason offered softly as he held Danny and let him cry.

“No don’t go,” Danny hiccuped against Jason’s chest. 

“I’ll call Jazz,” Bruce added, of course. He would want to help, he did care, but he never had any actual idea how to help. The emotionally unavailable bastard. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Dr. Leslie asked gently. “I would like to have a better look at the twins to check on their development but if you need time I can come back later, or even another day.”

“Just-just give me a minute, please,” Danny sniffled as Jason rubbed his back.

“Of course. I know this is overwhelming,” Leslie said gently. 

Jazz barged into the room and immediately hugged Danny a well, sandwiched safely between her and Jason. “Scruff him, it’ll help,” she told Jason, who nodded and squeezed the back of Danny’s neck. 

He shuddered and then started to relax between the two of them, basically letting the two taller, and trusted, people hold him up. His sobs turned into sniffles and then a few deep breaths. “Okay, okay I think I’m ready. I want to know that they’re okay too. I know their cores are developing well but if they have human bodies, we need to make sure those are healthy too right?” 

“Right. Do you want me to stay, or do you want Bruce to come back in?” Jazz asked gently. 

“No, you and Jason stay please,” Danny said softly. He had thought it was right for Bruce to come in as his guardian, but it was Jazz who had really been looking after him for years. “There’s not much to see right now, just little blobs. We’ll tell him how it goes.”

Danny took another breath and then squirmed out of both of their arms and went to lay back on the table, pulling up his shirt again. Jason stood next to the examination table, taking Danny’s hand again, Jazz went and sat on the table by Danny’s head and stroked his hair while Dr. Leslie applied fresh jelly to his stomach since it had been worn off during his panic attack. Jason might have to change his shirt after this.

“Alright, let’s have another look shall we?” She said with a warm smile as she pressed the wand against his stomach again. She found the babies again fairly easily. “They seem to be sticking pretty close together,” She said with a little smile. “They’re active little things! It’s far too early to tell anything else about them but from what you’ve told me they seem to be on track and developing properly,” She said, pulling back and offering Danny a cloth to clean the gel off his stomach.

“Do you mind if we call Bruce back in? As your guardian I’d like him to be here for you treatment plan?” She asked.

“Sure, makes sense,” Danny agreed with a nod. 

She nodded back and looked at Jazz, who nodded as well and ducked out to get Bruce. “While we’re mostly alone I want to know, do you know all your options Danny? You know you don’t have to carry them. They’re just embryos right now, not even conscious. Your health and safety comes first,” Dr. Leslie told him gently. She knew Jason was firmly pro-choice.

“No, I know,” Danny said with a little smile and a nod, looking down at his stomach and gently caressing it. “I know I don’t Have to do this. But I do want them. I’m already attached to them, you know?” He said looking up at her, worried that she would judge him. He hoped he was making the right choice, that he wasn’t ruining his life at 16 or something. Fuck he could be on that trashy tv show! 

“I understand,” She assured, no hint of judgment on her face. Of course not, if she could treat rogues without judgment she sure as hell wasn’t going to judge a teen parent. She glanced up as the door opened again and Bruce and Jazz entered. “Right,” Leslie said, sitting down at her computer and starting to type. “You’re still a little malnourished so I’d like to get you taking prenatal vitamins immediately,” she said, glancing up to see Danny nod. “With your unique condition I’d like to see you more often than usual, weekly visits would be best for now. Once we’re sure you and the babies are okay we can go down to every other week.”

“I don’t think we need to do that,” Danny said, shifting nervously. “I mean you say the human side is looking good, and my ghost doctor says they’re developing well on that side, if slower than usual. I don’t need to come in every week,” He said looking hopeful. 

She hesitated for a moment, organizing her thoughts and considering his words. “Even so, there’s clearly some bleed over that makes it hard to tell how healthy you are. I would feel better if you came weekly, at least for the first month so we can establish a true baseline.” 

“Alright,” Danny said, drooping again, looking back at Bruce. “Can you make the appointment? I want to go home.”

“Sure Danny,” Bruce agreed, pulling out his planner to check their schedule. 

“I’ll take you back to the manor,” Jason assured, using his grip on Danny’s hand to help him up. 

“I’ll go back to the cafe with Dick, we were having a good conversation, I wouldn’t mind continuing it,” She said, giving Danny a smile. “Unless you want me to come?”

“No, that’s alright. Have fun Jazz,” Danny said, leaning against Jason and letting him usher Danny out of the clinic. Jazz waved as she crossed to the cafe where Dick was waiting, looking worried till he noticed them, then he smiled and waved. Jazz waved back and jogged across, about to tell Dick all about the twins no doubt. 

Jason led Danny to his bike, and got on first, pulling Danny onto the seat behind him. Danny wrapped his arms around Jason and pressed against his back, half hiding from the world. Jason didn’t try to talk to him, he needed time to process. He would talk when he was ready to.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #fanfiction #trans!danny #trans pregnancy #teen pregnancy #dead on main #bruce wayne #jazz fenton #dick grayson #eldest daughter syndrome #that's what Dick and Jazz are called as a ship right? #finally getting help AU #Danny is pregnant #tw dysphoria

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss - Pt.9

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 2943

Summary: Minho and you spend a day at the art gallery, Chan takes you out for dinner by the river. Both of them try their best to make room for you and reconnect. You haven't been so happy in a while.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, dinner date, museum date, soft!min, soft!chan

A/N: Thought I'd surprise you with another chapter today that I wrote after posting chapter 8. I think we could use the fluff🤭🖤

PART EIGHT | PART TEN (coming soon)

You exchange a soft smile with your husband, tilting your head at him. “You’re okay?” you ask gently. For a moment, all you can hear is the low hum of the city life outside the window. 

“Let’s go out today?” he asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the calm. “Just you and me.”

You study Minho’s face, swallowing at the hope in his eyes. It’s been three weeks since you clashed and you’ve been working on easing out the many strains those past months have taken on your life. Sometimes, Minho seemed a little hesitant, not knowing if you’d let him in enough. “Where would we go?” you ask, allowing a small smile to cover your lips.

“You mentioned that art exhibit at the new gallery downtown a few days ago. I thought you might want to see?” he suggests gently.

You feel warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of him still remembering that. “That sounds wonderful,” you say excitedly. “I would love to.”

“Yeah?” He smiles so sweetly that you reach out for him. He leans into your touch as you caress his cheek and searches your eyes carefully.

“Yes, darling,” you mirror his smile.

The two of you get ready in comfortable silence, side by side, occasionally sharing glances that hold soft smiles and unspoken words. As you step outside, hand in hand, the city greets you with the vibrant colors of an early evening. The sun, low in the sky, paints everything in hues of orange and gold.

The gallery is a modern space with stark white walls filled with vibrant art. You wander through the exhibits, Minho’s presence a steady warmth at your side. You’re busy looking at the different pieces, but his eyes can’t stop finding you. Once more, he notices how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, and how safe you always make him feel. A small smile settles on his lips as he watches you, following you around the rooms willingly. 

At one painting, a chaotic blend of dark and light, you pause longer than at the others. Minho beside you observes the play of emotions across your face. “What do you see?” he asks quietly, not asking about the painting but the meaning you give it.

Your eyes linger on the canvas, chewing your lip a little. “Struggle,” you say, your voice soft in the almost empty room. “But there’s beauty in it too. The colors clash, and still they harmonize…it’s almost like…,” you pause, not quite sure if you should continue.

“It’s like us,” Minho finishes for you, his voice barely above a whisper. He turns to look at you, his gaze filled with understanding. “Finding our beauty in the struggle. Finding some light in the darkness.”

You meet his gaze, your heart aching at the truth of his words. You reach for his hand, fingers intertwining naturally as if they were made to fit together. “Thank you for bringing me here,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

Minho’s thumb strokes your hand gently, and his eyes soften. “I’d go anywhere with you,” he replies.

You continue your walk through the gallery, and once you step outside, the sky has turned into a velvety blue, and and stars begin to peek out. You decide to take a little detour on your way back home, walking through the park. The city sounds soften in the background, replaced by the rustle of leaves and distant laughter.

The park is lit by scattered lamps, casting their golden lights on the winding path. You walk slowly, comfortable in the peace you feel with him. At a bench by the duck pond, you sit down with him, gazing at the water that glitters beneath the moonlight.

The air is cool by now, a gentle breeze teasing your skin, making you shiver. Minho notices almost immediately, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm hug. You lean against him, head resting against his shoulder, and sigh happily. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Minho confesses, voice laced with a warmth that reminds you he’s your home. “I missed just being with you without having to try and function. Just..us.”

You turn to look at him, eyes finding his in the dim light. “We don’t always have to be strong, do we? We can just be us, flaws and all.”

“No, we don’t always have to be strong,” Minho agrees, his hand gently cupping your face. As long as we’re together…that’s enough. That’s more than I could’ve ever asked for,” he whispers. Your lips meet in a gentle kiss before he squeezes your shoulder. “Let’s get back home, hm?”

The walk back is quiet but comfortable. As you reach the doorstep, Minho stops, turning to you with a serious expression on his face. “Let’s make a promise,” he says, eyes locking with yours. “No matter what happens, we keep fighting together, we keep finding beauty in the chaos.”

You nod, face softening at the desperation in his eyes. “I promise.”

Minho leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss to seal your promise. It’s soft and sweet and holds the promise and gentle words of today. “Come on, honey. Let’s see if Channie’s home yet,” he says, and you nod happily.

Inside, the house is quiet, making the atmosphere feel almost too serene. As you shed your coats and shoes, Minho calls out gently, not wanting to startle Chan, who might be home. There's no response, and he leads you through to the kitchen, where a note on the counter catches your eye.

"Out with Felix and Binnie. Don't wait up. - Chan" reads the neatly penned message, Minho's lips turning up in a small, knowing smile. "Guess it's just us tonight," he comments.

You nod, missing Chan but also relishing the quiet intimacy that the evening promises with just the two of you. "What do you feel like for dinner?" you ask, turning towards the fridge.

Minho shrugs, watching you with an affectionate gaze. "Anything's fine, as long as I'm with you," he replies, his tone soft. 

Deciding on something light and easy, you opt to make a salad with all the fresh ingredients you have, adding grilled chicken for some warmth and substance. Minho sets the table, his movements relaxed, a playlist of soft music filling the background.

As you both sit down to eat, the conversation flows more freely than it has in weeks. Gradually, the dialogue drifts towards more personal topics, about how you've both been feeling and the little things you've missed about each other.

"It's been tough, hasn't it?" Minho says at one point, his fork paused halfway to his mouth. "But nights like this... they remind me why it's worth it. Why we're worth it."

You reach across the table, your hand covering his. "It has been tough. But I wouldn't want to face it with anyone but you," you admit, your voice thick with emotion.

After dinner, you clear the dishes together, a routine that feels comforting in its normalcy. Minho washes, you dry, and there's a gentle efficiency to your movements, a dance you've performed countless times before, each step familiar and reassuring.

With the kitchen tidied up, Minho suggests a walk outside. The night air is still warm enough to be inviting. "Let's just walk around the block, a little night stroll," he proposes, and you agree readily.

Outside, the neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are dimmed for the evening, and their inhabitants are likely winding down much like yourselves. You walk hand in hand, your steps unhurried, the silence between you comfortable and easy.

At one point, Minho stops, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "I love you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I don't say it enough, but I do. So very much."

"I love you too," you respond, leaning back to look into his eyes. “And you're right. Nights like tonight remind me of us, of what we have and what we're fighting for."

Returning home, you settle onto the sofa, Minho pulling a blanket over you both. You lean into him, your head on his shoulder, and he kisses the top of your head.

"Let's not wait so long to do this again," you suggest, your voice muffled against his shirt.

"Yeah," Minho says, his arm tightening around you. 

As you nod in agreement, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, you realize that the struggles and the chaos of the past weeks have not been in vain. They've brought you to this moment, safe in Minho’s arms.

-

Chan finds himself back earlier than he planned. After his evening out, he feels the pull of home - of you and Minho - stronger than the laughter and light of the city streets. As he approaches the house, his heart is a mix of nerves and hope. He unlocks the door quietly, half-expecting to find the house still echoing with the tension of previous weeks.

Instead, he steps into a soft-lit silence, low music playing in the living room where he finds you and Minho asleep on the sofa, intertwined under a shared blanket. The sight makes him stop in the doorway, a gentle smile spreading across his face as relief washes over him. Here, in this scene of peaceful slumber, he sees the healing that has begun between you. It almost feels as if you’ve never struggled.

Chan sets down his keys quietly and walks over, his movements gentle to avoid waking you. The intimacy of the moment - the way Minho's arm encircles your waist, how your head rests against his chest - is so sweet. It reminds him of the depth of love and commitment that binds you together, a stark contrast to the coldness that had crept into your interactions lately.

Chan reaches down, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch is feather-light, a silent vow to himself to mend the threads of your relationship that he's held too loosely. The small action makes you stir, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his in a sleepy state.

"Channie," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. "You're back early."

He nods, his hand moving from your hair to gently squeeze your shoulder. "Couldn't stay away too long," he admits, his voice low and warm. "I missed home."

Minho stirs next to you, his eyes opening to Chan's familiar presence. "Hey," he greets, his voice rough with sleep "We were just waiting up for you," Minho teases lightly, though the crinkles by his eyes show his sincerity. He sits up, adjusting the blanket over you, ensuring you're still covered and warm.

Chan chuckles softly, the sound soothing the lingering edges of his earlier anxiety. "It looks like you did more sleeping than waiting," he observes gently.

"Join us," you say, patting the space beside you. 

As Chan settles beside you, the weight of the past weeks—the misunderstandings, fears, and pain—seems to lift slightly. Together, you sit in the soft glow of the room, the silence comfortable, filled only with the soft sounds of your synchronized breathing.

As the evening deepens into night, you all decide it's time to move from the sofa to the bed. Hand in hand, you help each other tidy up the living space before heading to the bedroom.

You all get comfortable in bed, Chan, in the middle this time, turns to face each of you, his eyes holding a soft light. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "For this. For us."

Minho reaches to squeeze his hand. “We love you, Channie.”

“I love you too,” he smiles happily.

-

Chan had suggested it: a quiet evening out, just the two of you. You agreed to the promise of a few hours solely with him, which sounded too good to pass. Chan suggested a small restaurant by the river, one that promised a breathtaking view.

Now that the evening is here, you feel nervous, a soft flutter in your stomach. It reminds you of the early days, the first few dates, and the awkward dance of not wanting to choose between Minho and him. You spend quite some time picking your outfit, wanting to feel beautiful and hoping to see the spark in Chan’s eyes you haven’t seen in a while.

Chan is not one bit less nervous than you are, choosing a simple but elegant shirt he knows you like. When he sees you, ready and waiting, his breath catches in his throat. “You look so beautiful,” he manages, his voice rough with emotion. The sincerity in his gaze and the slow smile covering his lips make your heart beat faster, and your eyes water a little.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

“Thanks,” he smiles shyly, blushing a little.

The drive to the restaurant is quiet, with music playing in the background. Chan parks near the river just as the sun is slowly dipping below the horizon, painting the water with a golden glow.

Hand in hand, you walk to the cozy restaurant, which has soft lighting and a gentle, nonintrusive conversation. You choose a table near a window with a view of the river, now shimmering under the first touches of twilight.

You two fall into easy conversation as you eat, yet beneath the lightness of their conversation, deeper topics linger at the edges, waiting.  "Y/n," he begins, his voice serious but gentle. “I know things have been tough. I know I've been... distant. Not because I want to be, but because I've been scared - scared of doing the wrong thing, of saying the wrong thing."

"Chan, I understand. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed, too, scared of pushing you away or making things harder for you,” you admit gently.

“I never meant to feel like you couldn’t come to me…or that Min is more important to me,” he tells you guiltily. 

“I know,” you reply, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “But we're here now, and that’s what matters. We can find our way back together.”

Chan’s smile returns, his eyes lighting up as if a weight has been lifted. “I’d like that. A lot.”

As dinner comes to an end, Chan suggests a walk along the river. The cool breeze from the water is refreshing, and the rhythmic sound of the waves against the shore is soothing. 

“Look at the moon,” Chan points up, and you both stop to gaze at the full moon, casting a silver glow over the river. It’s beautiful and peaceful, and for a moment, it feels like everything is right in the world.

“It’s gorgeous,” you comment, leaning into him.

Chan wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Not as gorgeous as you,” he says, which makes you both chuckle.

The moment feels right, and you stop walking and turn to face him. “Chan, thank you for tonight. It means a lot to me. I’ve missed just being with you like this.”

He cups your face gently, his touch tender. “I’ve missed it, too—more than I realized. Let’s not let it go again, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, and he leans in to kiss you softly and sweetly under the moonlight by the river.

On the drive home, the car is filled with comfortable silence. A song that you both love comes on the radio, and Chan reaches over to turn it up. You smile and start to sing along quietly. He joins in, and soon, you’re both laughing and singing at the top of your lungs.

Chan parks the car in front of your house and turns to you with a giddy smile. You smile softly, leaning over to cup his face. “My beautiful Channie angel,” you whisper, and he blushes a little. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he smiles shyly. “My sweet baby girl.”

Minho greets you with a gentle smile as you step inside. “Had fun, you two?” he asks gently, giggling surprised as you give him a long, soft kiss. “Hey, darling,” he whispers adoringly.

“Come cuddle with us?” you plead softly, making him laugh.

“Please?” Chan asks sweetly, kissing his cheek.

“Fine, fine,” he laughs. “Go get ready for bed, I’ll be there in a bit,” he promises.

Not much later you’re all comfortable in bed. You’re in the middle, feeling safe between them. To your left, Minho’s warmth is a comforting pressure against your side, his arm thrown loosely over your waist. His fingers draw mindless patterns on the fabric of your nightshirt. Chan’s body is curved around yours protectively, his breath softly tickling your neck. Minho shifts a little, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes meet Chan’s in a silent agreement of how much they love you. 

“Comfortable?” Minho asks softly, barely above a whisper, as if he’s scared of speaking too loudly.

“Very,” you nod, agreeing. You turn your head slightly to smile at him, reaching to touch his cheek. Chan responds by tightening his embrace around you, his hand splaying across your stomach, grounding you.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, the only sounds are the soft rustling of the sheets and the steady, rhythmic breathing of three hearts in sync. You find yourself tracing the lines of Chan’s hand after a while, feeling the strength and warmth of his fingers intertwined with yours. Minho, feeling a surge of affection, leans over to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, then Chan’s jaw. Chan smiles at the gesture, a small, happy sound escaping his lips. It feels perfect.

PART EIGHT | PART TEN (coming soon)

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ontito0icongirls @furiousheartpoetry @bluesiebirdie @scarlet789 @ziipzeepzop-eez @lost-in-avoidance @dprkbyn @bear8585 @lee-knows-cats @mintchip17 @zdgx1 @zerefdragn33l @chansducky10 @melanctton @0325tiny @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @daisyjihannie @felixs-brownies78 @roriiror

#stray kids #skz #chan #minho #minchan #lee know #bangchan #poly!skz #poly!stray kids #chan fluff #chan fic #chan x reader #minho fic #minho x reader #minho fluff #bangchan x reader #bangchan fic #bangchan fluff #lee know fluff #lee know fic #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #skz fic #skz x reader #skz fluff

[vividvivy]

Heya^^ could we get some romantic headcanons about kaiser, shidou and isagi having a artist/painter prodigy s/o?

Of course you can exclude anyone if it's too much! Anyways I hope you'll have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate^^

Notes: Hellooo! First request, I'm so happy oh my gosh. I had some trouble so I'll do the rest in separate parts, hope you don't mind!! 41°C here it's so hot omg. You stay safe and hydrated too!! Also sorry it's messy, I'm still trying to improve and I hope you'll like this! 😭

Pairing: Isagi Yoichi x Reader

Type: Headcanons

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Isagi Yoichi with an Art Prodigy S/O ♡︎

He leaves you for the damn ball.

JOKE.. I'M JOKING GUYS..

Would be the most understanding and considerate among the three. I'm not sure if Yoichi will actually understand, but he's still super supportive and would listen to you and assist you when you need any help or company.

Dates with him are so cozy and peaceful.

He'd stay in an art studio or any room at all and sketch and paint with you all day long. 

I think he'd be the type to try and draw you flowers or try to make you (+ him TOGETHER!!)

He'd be over the moon if you agreed to craft anything matching him. Something simple like paper rings, matching pins or brooches, and drawings of each other!!

Would put a drawing you made or a printed pic of you in his clear case.

His phone would be you-themed. Just you, him and your work.

Bonus: If you met as schoolmates or before Blue Lock, he'd try to make small silly doodles for you in class, and if you handed him any doodles, he'd sometimes cut them and place them in his ID case or hang them in his locker and use some of them as bookmarks.

Takes you shopping (would definitely randomly buy Art supplies that caught his eye and give them to you) or anywhere at all!!

His favourite place to stay would probably be in a café or restaurant that isn't too fancy, just somewhere with cute, homey vibes and a picturesque view.

He's TRYING to keep up with you when you invite him to paint together.. (Keyword: He's trying his best.) It definitely isn't the best thing out there but A for effort.

Tbh he always improves so quickly it's scary and makes you envious and proud sometimes..

If it bothers you and he notices, he'd act more clueless on purpose and would let you just guide him??

HAS A SEPARATE SKETCH BOOK WHERE HE KEEPS HIS DRAWINGS OF YOU!!

Made a little scrapbook dedicated to the 2 of u <3

He really REAAALLY admires you and your work.

In his eyes, you and your work are the best there are aside from soccer and being the best striker there is. He could stare at your papers and canvases hung up or scattered all day, admiring each stroke and line, even the finest ones, and looking at each shaded and highlighted area in awe.

His deep blue eyes shine so brightly when they meet your paintings and illustrations, yet no other sea of stars could replicate the shine seen in his gaze when completely in awe.  In awe of you.

When you're experiencing any artblocks or frustrations regarding it, he'd be your number one helper.

If it's a better environment and inspiration you need, he'd immediately try to take you places and show you works that you've made before for more inspo. Would try taking you to a soccer field or any open area outdoors too.

Barely knows what he's doing but he's got the spirit guys!!

During hard times, he'd be the first to go by your side and help you.

Would try to be the one to pull you out when all the stress and expectations swallow you whole (Again he's TRYING but all his attempts are most likely clumsy and slightly flawed..)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #blue lock headcanons

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 30

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 30: gone

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

I woke the next morning to an empty bed. Alastor's presence wasn't near but the bed still felt warm where he had been. He must've left in a hurry but for what? Normally I would've just went back to sleep and asked him about it later.

But something was off about this, something wasn't right.

I quickly jumped out of bed, falling harshly on my knees from my still lack of energy, and went to my room. I changed as quickly as I was able and went into the haven. The morning sun was coming over the treetops and the first few set of workers were already up and about. I made a beeline for Angel's hut where I know Husker should be. I felt his presence and pushed on it, at the same time knocking on the door. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long as he came padding quickly to the door.

"What is--"

"Alastor's gone."

His tiredness faded. "What do you mean he's gone?"

"I mean he's gone. Our connection it's...it's like before. I don't really...feel it." I was struggling with ways to describe it.

"Where have you checked for him so far?" he asked next.

"Just the house and down here. I'm going to check with Rosie but maybe you can ask Charlie? I have a really bad feeling about this."

He let out a sigh and fixed the strap that had fallen off his shoulders. "Alright. I'll go over and ask. He's probably fine."

"Why does everyone keep discounting what I'm saying?" I half mumbled as I spun away. I melted with Alcine and ran up to the back of the house. I stood over the symbol and teleported myself into Hell, right outside Rosie's store.

Her store was closed but I did the exact same thing I did with Husker, impatiently waiting at the back door. When I explained everything to her, a look of worry finally came across someone's face.

For the next several days, I looked for him. His radio broadcast remained ever silent and our connection remained thin. It was impossible for me to reach him like I had before with Blackwater. He wasn't anywhere in Hell or on the surface. He was just...

Gone.

My panic over Alastor possibly being in the hands of any Angels was somewhat soothed by a conversation with Lucifer. He told me that Angels didn't have power to hold souls in purgatory - that was essentially his job in a way. He also revealed a conversation he had with Heaven. Well, with Adam.

Apparently, Heaven has been upset with how rampant Demons have been on the surface, a place where they naturally didn't belong. They've been arguing for years but nothing was ever done about it. Angel refused to let people know they existed because only their high father could control such events.

It didn't make sense to me.

Regardless, Alastor wasn't in danger with the Angels. That meant he must be somewhere else. Yet there were only two realms. So where was he?

Husker told me that it wasn't uncommon for Alastor to go missing every once in awhile. Apparently he did this right before he helped Charlie with her hotel. The only issue with him disappearing for some time was that he didn't tell me. Considering how we had been the night before he vanished, I had thought he would tell me he would do such a thing, or at least leave a note of some kind.

Perhaps I was wrong.

For the first year, I kept radios in every room tuned to his channel and a single one tuned to random channels. Maybe he would give me a sign through them. Maybe this was something he couldn't tell me for safety reasons. Surely he would want to give me a sign of some sort, a sign that told me I wasn't being abandoned. The only clarity I had of the situation was that he was alive since I was still alive.

The second year I turned some of the radios off and left one on for each floor. I still slept in his bed, wishing and dreaming that he would magically be there when I woke up the next day. Each morning was a disappointment. It was around this time that the hallucinations of him began.

By the third year, everyone had known that the great scary Radio Demon had disappeared. Our location had been leaked by one of Blackwater's men so Humankind and Demonkind alike came after our haven. While the remaining surface Overlords, or anyone wanting new territory up here, tried to attack and disband Blackwater's empire, I was focused on keeping the haven safe. At first it wasn't hard since it was relatively small groups that bit off more than they could chew, however, as time went on, people started bringing in huge groups and powerful Demons.

By the fourth year, I had truely pieced myself back together as a new woman and established myself as the guardian of the haven. I killed enemies, struck deals with new allies, and taught newcomers a thing or two about fighting. The hallucinations came to a near stop.

By the fifth year, the haven had expanded even more. Arleen, who was our lovely architecture and seamstress, was never seen resting. She had gorgeous red wings that mimicked a butterfly's and her personality was as sweet as nectar. She designed a new layout for the rest of the town—though, now it could really be considered a small city. We had multiple teachers, Vivian remaining as the head of them all, several healer apprentices for Althea, a few seamstress assistants for Arleen, an open pasture for cattle, plenty of fishers, many more guards, and so much more.

With the haven expanding and having new things, I also wanted to change my own living place. I painted the outside of the house a more vibrant maroon and fixed the shingles so they didn't look so tattered. I knew the house had belonged to Alastor's mother so I didn't want to change it too much should he return at some point. Reagan and Lucas occupied Husker's old room since Husker and Angel moved to their own secluded apartment in the haven.

My old room was now occupied by two siblings: Nym and Thatcher. They were a rambunctious pair with a thirst for adventure. Nym was six and Thatcher was five when they first came to the haven. They were also children of the ring fights and found it increasingly difficult to make the transition from the ring to the schoolroom. I began working closely with the pair since all other resources had been exhausted, and soon found myself feeling attached like I was with Reagan. Vivian and the others insisted I adopt them, mostly in an attempt to fill the empty house and gaping hole in my heart. So I did.

By the sixth year, I had completely forgotten about Alastor. I would go weeks without thinking of him. I had so much I was focusing on, so much I was keeping myself busy with, that I would fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Occasionally I would think of him and it would hit me hard. When that happened, I tried not to be around anyone for the whole day. It left me annoyed and snappy at everyone, even Husker and Reagan. Fortunately, Nym and Thatcher were now able to attend school without attempting murder on any of the children, leaving me with more time on my hands.

By the seventh year, things had fallen into a routine. I was still the sole protector of the haven and mother to now three children. As things became mundane, I decided to assist the other Overlords in banishing the lasting traces of Blackwater. There was still one large factory hidden somewhere and I would be the one to find it. My reputation had shifted around in the past few years but this would solidify it for good.

I had grown a lot. It was time to show everyone.

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

Author's Note:

END OF ACT TWO!

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

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

[8-rae-rae-8]

CW: Referenced/implied abuse, past abuse, thoughts of worthlessness, unconventional self harm. AgeRe content.

Simon who gets tense around people who don't hurt him. Throughout his whole life, even when he was safe bouncing around squads in the military, people roughed him up. Insults, punches, mocks. No matter his size, attitude or status. So when the 141 doesn't do it, he waits. He waits thinking they will eventually, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The most they do with him is spar or tease him about things that don't hurt. They don't go for his soft spots. He doesn't understand why they don't want to hurt him, he doesn't get that it's because they care.

So he tries first. Why won't they fight back with more than a snort and a pat on the shoulder? Why don't they argue?

Price doesn't show more than a slight sadness about Simon's attempts to get someone to hurt him. He pulls out the only thing he thinks will do anything. The mama voice. He can't fight with Simon, not when he can see that Simon feels soft. Breakable.

Fragile.

Why is Price so gentle when he sits him down? Called him in there with his title anyways. This was it, right? They'll fight, like he's been wanting. To prove what? That he doesn't deserve softness? That he's bad like Roba and his father instilled in him?

But Price doesn't yell. He sits in front of Simon on his desk and talks to him. How can he feel safe and threatened at the same time? Was it Price's gaze or his stance? Was it how he was so obviously the weaker of the two, or the hands that would pick him back up that made him feel that way? Price couldn't get angry and hurt him, but he doesn't. He's slow, patient and kind. Something Simon is hardly used to. His heart squeezes in his chest.

The mama voice is what makes Simon tear up. He's not being scolded, but it still feels so firm. Not mean, but with an edge to it. He looked down at his hands. Bad. Unworthy. Rude.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." His mother and father would say. But Price softens as he looks at Simon.

"We don't have to talk now, Ghost." Ever so gentle with how he handles Simon. Respecting his wishes to not say his name but Simon ached to hear it out of his Captain's mouth. To hear his name softly said, without anger or malice. Especially without the slur of alcohol consumption.

"Are you going to get rid of me, Sir?" Simon's voice breaks. When Price pauses, his shoulders tense. Is this it? Is he done with him?

"Simon..." There it is. His name a soft sound on Price's lips. Warm, coated in concern. Don't leave. Don't leave. Please don't go.

"We're a team. No one gets left behind." Words Simon would later repeat to Johnny in the los vaqueros safe house.

"Why?" Simon questions. He hears the slight pained sound Price makes as he asks. I'm sorry. Don't go.

"We don't want to leave you... You're stuck with us." Price tries to be light-hearted, but stops when Simon frowns behind the mask. So expressive, usually when he doesn't want to be.

"I'm sorry." Sorry for what? Being argumentative? Being distressed?

...Being?

"Hey," Price crouches down next to him, following the way Simon's eyes dart to look anywhere but him, "You didn't do anything wrong." Gentle, guiding him like a child.

He felt like a child. Small. Weak. Breakable.

He hasn't heard anyone say it was okay before. No one comforted him like that. Not as a kid. Not as a teen. Not with his superiors. Because it hadn't been okay. Because he did do bad things.

And now he wasn't bad, it was okay. His mind didn't know how to deal with that.

Simon flinches as Price's hand rests on his knee.

"Simon, you're okay here. What can I do?"

Simon shakes his head. What could Price possibly do? Hold him? Tell him it was okay until it felt like it was? Let him cry it out like a kid? God he felt like a kid. Smaller and smaller the more Price talked.

He'd seen Johnny and Kyle small around him, but never let himself break. He always left as soon as he could. Now he wonders if it hurt them when he left so fast.

"'m sorry." The words come out faster, broken in the syllables. Forced and rushed. Will the other shoe drop?

"I know, Si, I know..." Price murmurs, looking up at him from his crouched position. It can't be comfortable, but neither comment.

Simon wants to fall forward into his arms the longer he looks at him so sweetly. Like Simon wasn't damaged goods. Like he was just as small as Kyle and Johnny. He feels smaller.

"Help..." He weakly mutters. He says it on the off chance that this won't hurt. That he'll be okay.

And Price doesn't leave, he promises to stay and help. Never pushing further than Simon wanted to go. He waited till he was okay to hold hands, then waited till he was okay being picked up. Then until he let himself cry. Price didn't have to work hard to notice just how small Simon made himself, how easy he could break. Simon, not Ghost. Price vowed to protect him once the sobs died down and Simon fell asleep on his chest. There in his office, on the couch in an uncomfortable position. Like he was a cat, Price didn't go anywhere.

Price gains another little that day, but he didn't bring it up until Simon came to him. Until Simon needed his help again. It's all on his time, Price doesn't push. He's the most giddy he ever had been when Simon crawls into bed with him and falls asleep safely. Cooing in his sleep. Price hadn't felt that happy before about being needed. Simon came to him for comfort. For safety. He holds it to the highest honour.

#cod agere #simon ghost riley #john price #john price cod #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty agere #might get posted on ao3....

[itsabouttimex2]

Monkiefam: Part 0

Midnight Malaise

(Part Zero) (Part One) (Part Two)

It doesn’t particularly surprise the troop when you sneak out of your room. All three of them are fully aware that you often wander around at night like this. They know that you aren’t getting enough rest, that you aren’t eating properly.

The house is silent, save for the occasional rumbling snore from Wukong. You’ve been told to never leave your room at night- but that’s more of a suggestion than a stone-set rule. Really, as long as you don’t leave the bounds of the house, they have no trouble with your little late-night adventures.

Even the garden outside isn’t off limits, as long as you don’t go past the fences.

And beside- it’s peaceful tonight. It’s no more dangerous than taking one little stroll out in Megapolis to see the moonlight.

…you’ve come to miss Megapolis. The mountain was absolutely enchanting at first, but that was back when you thought that being here was merely a choice.

Before you had asked one of the monkeys to bring you home, and received a very firm “no”. And then went and asked the other two, only to receive the same answer twice again.

Before all that, Flower Fruit Mountain had been lovely and welcoming.

You sit at the bottom step of the stairs, taking a moment to grab both of your shoes, wishing you had something a little sturdier. But anything that would hold up outside the soft soil of the flower garden was kept well out of your reach.

And even then, these compliant and squishy sandals are sometimes hidden to keep you inside.

MK finds you before you’ve even got the first shoe on. The kid peels it out of your hand and tosses it against the other, knocking them both into the wall.

He settles down on the same step and leans against you, pressing into the warmth offered by skinship. It’s a habit of his, a desire for touch- he’s incredibly trigger-happy with affection. The hero leans his head against your shoulder, taking in the scent of you. You smell of linen and soap and home. Too much time spent hiding in the laundry room, buried under mounds of fresh blankets and warm sheets. Something that helped to remind you of simpler days. It makes him smile, how comforting that scent is.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” No malice. No anger. Just love. And a strong note of worry.

There’s no point in lying. If you’re up this late, it’s because you want to go out to the garden and lay among the flowers and pretend that you’re anywhere but this sacred mountain.

“…I wanted to get some fresh air.”

“Not while it’s this late. It’s not safe.” He’s pretty firm about this- there’s too much worry to consider other options aside from the frequent “no” you always seem to receive. He looks at you and speaks, his voice almost reverent with love. “Instead, how about I make you a bowl of noodles and then you go to bed?”

“…I’m not really all that hungry, MK.”

“Yes you are.” He’s even more firm with that response. “I’m not asking if you’re hungry, I’m telling you. It’s been three days, Y/N. This isn’t healthy for you at all!

MK doesn’t give you a further chance to respond, just scooping you up and and walking off to the kitchen. This might’ve been harder for him, once… but you’ve lost a lot of weight during your stay.

Sitting you into a cushioned chair, MK’s humming quietly as he prepares the noodles. A well-learned cook, he’s picked up on a lot from his lessons with Pigsy- who is often stern with his training. But, even in something such as this generational cooking, you can see the kindness and gentleness MK possesses.

So you stay there in the chair, almost patiently waiting at the table. The most you do is quietly drum your fingers against the wood. Although you’re not too big on eating lately, you aren’t really brave enough to argue with the members of your ‘family’.

“It’s ready!” He slides you a bowl of steaming, delicious noodles- the savory and herbal scent alone is enough to make your mouth water. He nudges the bowl closer. He’s clearly put a lot of care and effort into making the meal, and he’s not leaving until you’ve tried it. The kid looks determined, and a little bit upset?

Maybe he’s just that worried.

With a sigh, you reluctantly tuck into the noodles and take a few deep bites.

It’s not that they’re bad. In fact, they’re objectively pretty delicious. You just… haven’t had much of an appetite lately.

MK beams at you, watching with a soft smile as you eat. “Do you like it? I made as close to Pigsy’s as I could!” He gently nudges the bowl closer, trying to get you to eat even more.

“…it’s good,” you grudgingly confess, quickly finding that your words come out slurred. There’s… something herbal in here, I think…?”

“It’s a dash of ginger for warmth and good sleep,” he says, voice cheery to mask his omission. A half-truth reaches your ears, MK leaving out the real ingredient: a ground sprig of valeriana jatamansi, it’s sedating impact enhanced by growing beside the mystical rivers of Flower Fruit Mountain.

And if you had known that, you would know that Sun Wukong had coordinated this plan with MK, giving him the herb to grind down and add to your bowl.

And after just half the bowl, your eyes are fluttering and the chopsticks waver in your hand.

He rushes forward, practically tearing the wooden sticks out of your hands before standing you back on your feet. “Bed. Now.” His voice is uncharacteristically firm, urgent. He’s a lot more serious now, almost desperate. His worry is evident in his tone.

You try to dig your feet into the wooden flooring, attempting to pull free from his grasp. “N-no, I won’t. L-let… let go.”

MK’s grip is a surprisingly strict one, though he’s quite soft while doing it. The kid’s strength only really comes into play when someone’s health or safety is at risk. He’s stronger than he looks. More importantly, he’s worried enough to drop his usual gentleness. His grip tightens, dragging you behind him as he moves onwards.

He leads you; not up the stairs to your room, but across the house to Wukong’s.

“Heh. Finally got ‘em to eat something, bud? Good job,” he says, lightly ruffling his student’s hair. “I’m proud of you.”

And MK nearly buckles at the knees, overloaded with warmth and happiness. It’s only the fact that he’s holding you now that keeps the boy from throwing himself into the affection being offered.

“Alright, both of you- get in and get comfy. We’re sleeping in tonight.”

MK tosses your nearly unconscious form to his mentor, who then tucks you in nice and tight. “There’s one of my kids… come on bud, you’re up next!”

With a gleeful laugh, the affection-seeking boy squishes in beside you, throwing his arms all around your waist.

Wukong’s chest rumbles with a deep and contented purr, nuzzling you against his fur. He bears the scent of peaches and wildflowers, sun-beaten grass and sweet honey. “Hey there, cub.” The simian’s voice is both gentle and warm, the same as the arms he wraps around you. His entire body radiates a sense of protection and safety.

“Feeling sleepy?” The Great Sage asks, one ginger-furred hand hand cupping your cheek so he can tilt your head to him.

Without a word, the simian studies your face, wearing a sad, fond smile. He can sense your unrest, your deep sorrow, the anguish of your separation from the home you adored. His ancient heart aches with worry. He’s wanted to hug you, to hold you, to ease your sadness with the power of his embrace for so long now…

And all it took to get you here was one little herb…

It’s certainly not something that he or his student will ever regret.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere MK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Monkiefam #TW: Drugging

[merrymorningofmay]

I saw your post about how hard things have been lately and I was wondering if having people boost not just war/survival related things, but also positivity would help? Ukraine has such a rich and beautiful culture; I'd love to know if there are good tags for finding information and examples to boost to show people that and if you think that would be genuinely helpful?

Sorry if this is worded oddly. I hope you and your family stay safe and that this ends in victory for your people soon. <3

thank you for the kind words and support!!

as for your question: it's not odd at all, but i have kind of mixed feelings on the matter, so this is gonna be long i'm sorry....

first i'll say this: celebrating and promoting ukrainian culture is always, unambiguously, a good idea, because historically it's been largely underrepresented and understudied (and appropriated and/or miscredited by. Some Country. anyway). i like to think it's also helpful to our plight, however marginally, because people are more likely to sympathise with someone familiar and relatable, and engaging with ukrainian culture/boosting ukraine's presence anywhere can help bridge that gap.

as for online sources to share, i can definitely recommend ukr_arthistory (ukrainian art) and old_ukr_books (vintage book illustrations) on twitter, and also vintage-ukraine here on tumblr. if you'd like to help promote ukrainian artists on here as well as on twitter, #украрт, #укркрафт are the tags you wanna check out. living artists could always use some engagement/commissions

this list is quite short, to my shame, but again, fellow ukrainians are very welcome to add their own suggestions! (guys, please do)

i have my own reservations, though. see, there isn't a single aspect of ukrainian culture, art, life that hasn't been affected or retroactively reframed by the current war or by the long gruesome history of russia's colonialism in ukraine. the war is a part of us, it's a part of me, and any attempt by a non-ukrainian to draw a neat line between the two feels. unearned and violating? somehow? (again, these are just my feelings; e.g. i never trigger tag my war posts because nobody gets to have the fun parts of me and filter out the war part of me. other ukrainians may have different feelings)

and especially now, when the political and battlefield situation is at its bleakest yet and ukraine has been making less and less headlines, hearing non-ukrainians praise the resilience of the ukrainian people or repeat the comforting "kyiv in three days" platitude makes me feel bitter more than anything, because like. we shouldn't have to be this resilient! we're resilient because our allies are failing us and our only other choice is death! sure they didn't take kyiv in three days, but if they take it in three years instead i'll be just as dead in the end! you feel me?

this, of course, isn't to imply you did/were about to do any of that; i'm just trying to explain why i can't just answer "yes, by all means" to your (respectful and valid) question.

i guess the bottom line is: sure, do share and celebrate the beautiful, joyful, fascinating things about ukraine, as long as you also share and engage with the serious stuff. unfortunately, the bad news are the priority right now. i sincerely hope we live to see the day they won't be.

#rereading this i realise that the whole paragraph about resilience had nothing to do with your question and i could've omitted it altogether #uhh. consider that one a rant tangent i'm sorry #mari asks

[sinner-sunflower]

Lucifer AU idea- Rabbit Hole

Y'all know that Rabbit Hole by Miku song with the animation trend? Imagine Luci doing that dance ugh

---------------------------

The song is Angel Dust's first official music video that he wrote after breaking free of Valentino's deal.

Ozzie had offered him a job to Club Ozzie's first Pride ring branch and Angel never felt happier.

He got into music as an outlet for his emotions, releasing 'Addict' and 'Poison' to the public via Al's radio show. (He managed to convince Alastor to do it cos it would make his ratings skyrocket past Vox and Alastor loves nothing more than kicking Vox when he's already down)

After the success of his first 2 songs, Angel decided that maybe the 3rd one should have a music video.

With the help of Ozzie as his producer, the project is a go.

Writing the song was the easy part. Angel wanted it to sound fun but also resonate with his past experiences (just read the translation of the lyrics! The one angel wrote is from this Cover!)

One day, he and Ozzie were brainstorming at the Sin's office at the Pride branch.

Ozzie: Angel, this is your first music video! It must be grand! Showstopping! Jaw-dropping! Never before seen! Revolutionary!

Angel: But how do I do that, big dick boss man? I don't think even being greatest porn star Hell has ever seen will wow people now. I've done lots of things and I can't think of anything else.

Ozzie: Hmmm

Just then, Lucifer enters the office.

Lucifer: Ozzie! Just who I'm looking for. I need you to do some inspection regarding your crystals. I just talked to Belphagor and she said that her team just confiscated a whole ton in some imp warehouse in Greed. I know I don't need to meddle but I wouldn't be worried if it was anywhere else. Who knows what Mammon is doing with those and- oh! Angel!

Angel: Heya, Short king.

Lucifer: What are you doing here?

Angel: I work here, baby~

Lucifer: Oh! I knew that haha. And what's this?

The King of Hell gestures to the board they were using for notes.

Angel: Don't tell anyone, but I'm gonna be releasin a new song and it's gonna have a music video!

Lucifer: Really?! That's great! It hasn't been that long too since Poison, wasn't it?

Angel: Yeah, but we wanna catch these motherfuckers off guard

Ozzie: That's why we're brainstorming how we can wow these desensitised demons. I still think we can do-

Lucifer: Why don't I do it?

Angel and Ozzie blink in surprise at the King's words.

Angel: Do what?

Lucifer: Act! In your music video! You know, instead of you, I'll be the uhhh 'rabbit girl'? Not that- you're uh- not enough I just mean that uhm- I think the last thing they'd expect is the King of Hell a sinner's music video.

Angel: Babe, you do know this would be a not safe for work type thing, right?

Lucifer: Yeah? I know? I know you better than you might think, you know.

Ozzie: You sure? Cos Charlie might see this.

Angel: Yeah. I know I don't wanna see my dad basically naked dancing to music.

Lucifer: You can go through it with her if it makes you feel any better. But I'm up for anything.

The two others in the room just stare at him with their mouths wide open.

Lucifer: But if you don't want I...

Angel: Hell no! We are doing this!

Ozzie: Hell won't know what hit em.

---------------------------

Charlie gave it a green light cos she's so excited about her dad finally socializing and breaking out of his cocoon to really realize what everything is about. Angel wants to record a reaction of the hotel for research purposes.

A few weeks later, the video is done and it's dropped out of nowhere.

Ozzie invited the Sins to the hotel for an exclusive live viewing (he and Angel ofc knew what time it would be released and set the whole thing up)

Everyone sat in the lobby in front of a giant projector (No, Alastor, you can't watch a video on the radio!), and as the clock struck at 9:13 AM on a random Tuesday, the video played.

Let's just say that it certainly did leave mouth agaped and caused mass panic.

---------------------------

Ozzie anonymously sent a copy to Heaven and somewhere in a bright glowing building, 6 archangels lay unconscious at the ground due to shock,

---------------------------

If you guys want me to write some dialogue for that first reaction in the hotel, drop the comment!

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #helluva asmodeus #helluva boss asmodeus #asmodeous #lucifer harem #lucifer centric #lucifer au #lucifer morningstar fanart #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne

[thimblethetherian]

This place is my safe place. I can speak everything on my mind here about therianthropy and you guys get me. I see your posts and you guys are just like me.

Anywhere else I ak uncomfortable, I am made fun of, I am mistreated. But here I don't worry about anything. Tumblr feels so safe to me.

#therians #therian #therianthropy #fox therian #alterhuman #theriotype #otherhuman #non human #nonhuman

[pandoa]

the henchman: a grimmer tale

where another overblot strikes night raven college, and the prefect is prepared to face the dark magic alongside both grim and their friends to save the day yet again. but... where was grim to begin with?

part two/prologue to this fic in grim's pov !! can be read separately grim x platonic!gender neutral reader

warnings: angst ~based off of the theory that grim eventually overblot and mc will be forced to fight him~

“Grim?” You called out into the empty hallways of your school, searching for your cat-like friend among the deserted classrooms of Night Raven. Through the windows of the college, you sensed that another event of chaos was brewing from the way the sky seemed to darken in black, foreboding smog as students from all over the campus began quickly making their escape from whatever discord that struck the premises of the school. 

Another overblot? The thought crossed your mind as you continued searching for Grim after being unsuccessful with finding him in his usual napping spot back at Ramshackle. Really, the thought of another overblot cursing Night Raven was not a surprising one. For something that was known to be a rare occurrence in a mage’s life, it was awfully common in the school you had happened to stumble upon after being taken away from your life back in your own world. Truthfully, all you wanted to do was to find your dear friend Grim and get this overblot over with.

But since when did things ever go your way in Twisted Wonderland in the first place?

“Grim?” You called out again, this time a little louder, until you spotted the familiar silhouettes of your four friends—Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel—approaching you in their usual group. Relief flooded over your senses as you hurried to meet them halfway, a thankful look to your face before you spoke. 

“Hey, have you guys seen Grim anywhere? Maybe somewhere near Ramshackle? I have to go get him before we go out to deal with that overblot again-”

“(Y/n),” Jack’s voice called out your name, his tone stern with a cold warning surrounding it, “Grim is the one who is overblotting. You won’t find him back at Ramshackle.”

You stopped in your own tracks as you turned to your friends. The slight shake in your voice was enough to make a few of them shift in regret. “W…what?” you managed to choke out.

Jack continued with his cold, direct tone, leaving you with no room to truly process what was actually happening, “We don’t know how it happened or what triggered him, but all we know is that Grim is overblotting right now as we speak. You do not want to see the state he’s in right now, not with everything you’ve been through together. It’s not safe either. Even the strongest mage in Twisted Wonderland would have trouble overcoming the blot in Grim.”

“It’s too dangerous to be out there, (Y/n),” Epel explained softly after Jack as he carefully walked closer to you. It was almost as if he was so scared that you would run away from them if he made any impulsive movements. The purple-haired first year then continued to speak while placing a sympathetic hand to your wrist, a gentle tug urging you to turn away from the havoc around you.

“Crowley sent us here to make sure you didn’t try to face Grim…” 

Epel and the rest of your first year friends all watched as your expression turned into one of bafflement at each of their actions. There was no way they were telling you to do what you think they wanted you to do. Grim was their friend too. They cared for him. They loved him as much as you did—or that’s what you always thought. There was no way they would just leave him to destroy himself in flames and dark, oozing blot…

No way.

“And you all were just going to what? Stop me from saving my best friend?” you spat as your eyes twitched in disbelief.

“...It was Crowley’s orders.”

The downcast gaze of each and every one of your friends sent a flurry of rage and anger through your veins. That answer was not enough. Not enough to turn your gaze away from your feline friend who absolutely needed you right now.

“To hell with what Crowley orders us to do!” A yell was heard from your form as you roughly yanked your wrist out of Epel’s grip, twisting to turn your attention back to Ace, Deuce, and Jack as well. 

“I don’t see him helping anytime soon!”

Ace interjected your outburst, clearly trying to at least reason with you. But nothing Ace or anyone else said to you would change your mind. That, you were sure of. “(Y/n), you know we would usually be on your side on this. But this time Grim’s overblot is just too danger-”

“It’s because it’s Grim out there that I have to help now!” You interrupted him back with a strain to your voice as you bit back a crack in your throat. A certain type of vulnerability no one had ever seen from you. Not until now. “He’s the only family I have left to hang on to!” 

“What do you guys not understand?!” 

You continued to shout as the group of first years noticed the small shaking of your hands. “(Y/n)... You know you can’t save everyone…”

… What?

A sharp pang then struck your stomach at those words as your expression contorted and ached into despair. Confusion filled the trembling of your form, the world around you suddenly going silent and suffocating. At that moment, everything surrounding you made you feel as if there were boulders being mounted onto your back as you stared into the grueling eyes of your friends in front of you, their gaze piercing and scrutinizing.

Why were they looking at you that way?

You’d never seen their expressions look so… distraught. Like they were lost and had no idea of what to do next. Even after everything you all had been through together—from dangerous spells, estranged housewardens, and random magical adventures—you still had never seen the faces of Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel appear so conflicted. So desolate. They were almost unrecognizable.

“Do you guys really think we should just let him suffer out there alone?” You glance up once more, ignoring their expressions as your voice softened. A sliver of pain was entwined in the way you could barely even bring yourself to finish your sentence.

“Ace? Jack? Epel?” You asked each and every one of them one by one, causing the young men to stand in silence as if even they, themselves, were ashamed of their own actions. A sigh then escaped your mouth at their reluctance to answer. 

“Even you, Deuce..?” You faced him, hoping that at least one of your first year friends would be on your side. But with the way Deuce just stood there, stance unwavering, you realized that for the first time since you met the people of Twisted Wonderland, you were inherently alone.

The deafening silence lasted for what felt like days until you managed to free your legs from the ground to begin slowly walking away, leaving all four of your friends to drown in their own thoughts. They clearly made their choice. And you would make yours. “I… I have to go,” you mumbled as you gradually turned running towards the shaking halls of Night Raven College. The first years remained rooted to the floors of the school as they wordlessly watched you flee, their expressions filled with worry and shame.

A sigh was then heard from Ace as he interrupted whatever thoughts were swirling through everyone’s minds. Walking the same path you had just been on, Ace then dragged Deuce with him as the two followed you into the trembling hallways surrounding you all after attempting to reassure Epel and Jack that they would handle this.

“We’ll go talk to them…” the two promised as they tried to catch up to wherever you had gone…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“(Y/n)!” Ace’s voice rang in the flaming room, catching a certain prefect’s attention.

“What in Twisted Wonderland are you doing?!”

You turned to face your two friends, Ace and Deuce, with a petrified but unwavering look present in your eyes. Grim was out of control and if Crowley refused to help you for the thousandth time, someone had to stop him. 

Even a mere human with no magical abilities such as yourself would have to do.

“I’m saving Grim!” you replied back.

The Adeuce duo glanced at one another, concern for their friend clearly shown in their facial expressions.

“Saving him?! (Y/n), you’re insane if you think you can stop this!” 

Deuce added on to Ace’s chiding, his tone a bit softer as he gazed at the prefect, “(Y/n), there’s a big chance you won’t survive...”

You sighed, sorrow woven in the next words you said.

“Then I suppose I’m taking that risk. For Grim.” Screeching roars that could destroy one’s hearing enveloped the mirror chambers as the magicless freshman faced their beloved cat companion and friend.

You couldn’t comprehend why your friends tried to stop you. All you had wanted was for Grim to come home. Was that such a difficult thing to understand?

Tears began to threaten your eyes as you made your way towards what was left of the quickly disintegrating Night Raven mirror chambers as you left Ace and Deuce’s unreadable faces behind you. A combination of ashes, dust, and wet tears stung both of your eyes as you practically sprinted towards the raging chaos.

Blue flames mockingly danced around you as the heat radiated onto your sweltering skin. But despite the inevitable obstacles, you remained determined to bring your friend back to you as you took a deep breath, whispering your final string of hope into the smoke-filled air.

“Grim… please just come home… Please.”

a/n: alexa play i bet on losing dogs by mitski

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst theory #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst grim #grim x reader #grim x platonic reader #platonic #twst angst #twst theories #twisted wonderland grim #deuce spade #ace trappola #epel felmier #jack howl #♢the scribe♢

[milkteahood]

a ghost for a knight

medieval au, chapter 1

Simon Riley x fem!reader

Summary: your father, the king, makes his strongest knight keep watch over you due to you constantly disobeying the rules.

slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s while ghost is in his late 30s/ early 40s)

You thought he was merely a myth. Or at least, sort of. You heard the whispers, the other knights talking, but you never actually saw him.

Your father, the king, wasn’t allowing you to leave the premises of the castle, as you were the only heir. To you, he was just a story, a ghost. And to him, you were the same thing, for you had no idea your father was keeping you a secret. Only the most loyal to the family knew about you. So Simon had no idea why the king summoned him.

***

“That is a very good idea Your Highness” the advisor spoke.

“I just want her to be safe is all. She… she really inherited my temper” the king closed his eyes and rubbed one of his temples.

The crack from the secret passage was just enough for you to listen to the conversation. Someone was coming. Someone that was supposed to keep you safe. Safe from what? you thought to yourself. It’s not like I’m allowed to go anywhere.

As quiet as a mouse, you tiptoed away from the passageway and back into the labyrinth hidden into the castle. You knew every door, every crack. In case of a war, you could easily escape. Spending your free time hidden within the walls, listening to everyone’s conversations was something you found incredibly amusing. You knew which of the servants liked you and which couldn’t stand you. The only thing you found bothersome is not getting there in time to listen to your father’s whole conversation. You wanted to know who was coming. Is he planning to marry you off?

***

Exactly two weeks after the initial hearing of your father’s conversation is when the whispers started getting louder. “He is here” “The Ghost” “The Night” “The King’s most trusted” “The Myth” “The Legend”. And it was during one of your latin classes that the servant interrupted to announce that you were supposed by the king.

“Your Highness. The King is summoning you to the throne room” the servant spoke with a bow.

“What is it about?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“I do not know princess”

“Very well”.

And with that, you stood up, a million thoughts running through your head.

Making your way down to the throne room, beautiful dress dragging behind, you felt a little anxious. After taking a few breaths, you let it known to the guards was alright to open the doors for you.

There stood your father, his advisor and a man. He was dressed like a knight and wore the kingdom’s crest, but you have never seem him before.

Your father’s voice broke your chain of thoughts.

“Y/N. Please step closer. There is something I need to tell you”

“Yes father?” you approached, giving him a small bow. He might’ve been your father, but he was also the king.

“I am aware of your little getaways” his tone was cold, but not angry.

You didn’t dare say more. You knew it was just a matter of time until he found out about your sneaking away from the castle into the forest.

You could feel the man’s eyes on you. He was taking you in.

“I have considered locking you away too” your father continued after a pause “but I know what I raised. You’d eventually escape a cellar too. So, there he is” he gestured towards the man “Sir Simon Riley. The most trustworthy knight and soldier I have. He is from now on in charge of looking after you and keeping you safe”.

***

“I cannot believe this” you finally spoke once you were far enough the hallway “I have been given a nanny”

“Seems like it, princess” Simon said.

“Don’t get smart with me”

He didn’t respond.

***

And so there he always was. When you studied, he was in the room. When you slept he was just outside. He only spoke if spoken to and always walked a couple steps behind you. Only when you’d request him to walk by your side did he ever do that.

There was no more sneaking away into the secret passages. That was something your father didn’t know you did, and you didn’t know just how much Simon reported back to him.

Life began to feel increasingly boring. You felt almost trapped, even more than you previously did. So you started to hatch a plan. How could you get away from Simon, even if it was just for a couple hours. The best solutions are always hidden in plain sight. Simon only ever left your side when you wanted to rest. Of course, he was just outside your door, but you had all the room to yourself. All the room and all the ways outside of it.

So that same evening, you told the knight who was worse than a shadow at this point, that you felt incredibly tired and would return to your chambers earlier.

“As you wish, princess” was all he said as he took his place in front of your door.

You changed out of your gown and into something more suited for what you were about to do.

A wave of adrenaline washed over you as you slipped your shoes off, as to not have your footsteps be heard, and very quietly opened your window. The sunset was magnificent, the breeze cool against your skin. Your room wasn’t very high up, making it very easy to decent off its balcony.

The grass was a little wet under your feet, and you took your sweet time to enjoy this little freedom. But, just as you were about to make a run for it through the palace’s garden, a strong hand wrapped itself around arm.

“Did you really think I was that stupid?” he almost hissed at you.

Your whole mood completely deflated in that moment.

“Well… I sure hoped you’d be” you replied.

His grip on you only tightened, enough to tell you he wasn’t in the mood for your games, but not hard enough to actually hurt.

“I just, really wanted to see the sunset”

“You can see it from your balcony” he replied coldly.

“But”

“No”

“I’m the princess!” you protested.

“And I answer to your father, not you, brat”.

He almost dragged you back inside, marking the first night Simon moved into your room. The king was right, Simon thought. You really were a flight risk. And when his head was on the line, he really wasn’t going to take any shit from a brat half his age.

do not repost my work anywhere. Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated.

pictures were taken from Pinterest. I take no credit for them

#simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty

[gothcoffins]

I don't think I made enough of a point of how problematic it is to only like skinny people to the point of only dating, respecting, and rebloging them. I got mad and kept it mostly focused on the white aspect in my previous posts. (As in, only liking WHITE thin people and only rb white skinny femmes is weird as hell) Very sorry about that! I just felt the racism issue needed to be addressed first and then I missed the opportunity to also talk about body size as well because sometimes this goes hand in hand, let's be real.

If you only like butches and femmes when they are thin, especially only if they are thin and white, then maybe you don't like them.

Why do larger bodies make you uncomfortable? No matter if you have a tummy or not, if your thighs touch, your belly is large and prominent, or if you have rolls when standing, sitting, or existing, maybe you even have everything I listed at once but it's all beautiful and wonderful and natural. Someone's body shouldn't stop you from loving them. Someone's size shouldn't make you lose interest in them, that is just pathetic. Your love and respect for butches and femmes shouldn't depend on if they are thin or not.

ESPECIALLY for femmes, this is an issue I am seeing when trying to interact with some of the butches here. You either like us all, or you don't like any of us. You can't only like and respect people when they are thin (and white).

We all come in many different shapes and sizes, if you can only be attracted to those who are thin then you need to unpack that. Why do bodies that are not thin repulse you so much? (fatphobia is real please work on yourselves) Just because someone is fat it doesn't mean they are any less of a person. I am just as deserving of love and respect as my thinner femme sisters/siblings.

Personally as a femme, I love me some butch/stud tummy. Give me a butch with a big tummy, big arms, big legs and thighs, and I'm gonna be the happiest girl in the world. Big thighs so I can sit comfortably in their lap, big arms so I can hold onto them when we are walking together, a soft tummy that moves when they laugh and when they fuck into me. Like!!! Fat butches and fat studs, skinny, mid size, and any studs and any butches anywhere in between, you are wonderful! If you have stretch marks, scars, visible double chins, disabilities, acne, you are wonderful! regardless of your race or gender identity you are all wonderful and handsome and strong! thank you for existing. the lesbian community, especially within butch/femme dynamics is incredibly lucky to have you in it. You make me feel so safe and loved. Thank you

Femmes, femmes who are fat, femmes who have stretch marks, femmes who have big bellies, arms, and thighs. Femmes who have visible double chins, femmes who have big cheeks and fingers!! You are gorgeous to me. Femmes with stretch marks, acne, scars, disabilities, femmes who are fat, thin, mid size, or anywhere in between, regardless of your gender or race, you are all beautiful and wonderful and lesbian. There is no size requirement to be femme, it's a mindset. Thank you femmes for making the lesbian community so wonderful, especially within the butch/femme community. I love and appreciate you all 🩷

It's okay to have preferences, but it becomes an issue when your preferences are causing harm and stem from racism or fatphobia or anything else. When you are only respecting those you find attractive, when you are only holding space in your heart for those with smaller bodies, when you only value the opinions of those whose skin is pale, you are way less likely to be a safe space for others. You are less likely to care about the others in your community, less likely to treat those in larger bodies with respect and dignity. Society already treats fat people as something disgusting and something to be laughed at and looked down upon, and we don't need this in the lesbian community when this is supposed to be a space for us to exist freely in. The lesbian community is already pretty small, we don't need to bring even more hardship onto those in our community, those who are different than us deserve love and care too. We need to uplift and support each other, we are all we have at the end of the day. Let's make our space a place we can all sit comfortably in, regardless of how we physically look 🦇🖤

#femme4butch #femme4stud #butch #stud #femme #lesbian #butchfemme #femme lesbian

[rattkachuk]

i'm sorry. you reblogged the sensory prompts and as i read each of them i got different ideas for mattdrai and most of them were somehow angsty. if you can, 63 with them? pls and thank you <3

ohhh i was on the verge of sleep but then this ask was too tempting to ignore 💖 it is a little angsty, i couldn't help it. but!!! here's a blurb set in a hypothetical oilers/cats scf !!

63. Indigo skies just before dawn

-

Usually, when they were able to share a bed, Matthew slept with his limbs thrown over Leon. An arm across his middle, a leg slotted between his thighs and the other around his hips. All askew and taking up room. Leon always rolled his eyes, but if he was honest, he loved waking in the middle of the night and curling in closer, like it was Matthew’s very arms keeping him safe and together. His own personal weighted blanket.

When he woke up this time, there was a noticeable absence of touch. Leon frowns into the dark, stretching his hand across smooth sheets to find Matthew’s side long cold. A glance at his phone tells him it’s 5AM.

He doesn’t want to get out of bed, knows the air outside his blankets will be cold and unforgiving. The concern wins out, though.

Able to scrounge a hoodie from the floor, he trudges out into the hallway. The bathroom light is on (Matthew always insisted on keeping it on at night), but everything else is dark and quiet.

“Matthew?” Leon says quietly when he finds his familiar shape in the living room, curled up with his knees to his chest on the couch closest to the window. The Edmonton city lights are twinkling stardust in his eyes, “Are you okay?”

“Yah. Sorry, I uh…just couldn’t sleep. Lots going on up here,” Matthew waves to his own head, then holds out his hand to Leon once he’s close enough.

Leon takes it, squeezes gently before sitting down beside him. He taps at Matthew’s calves til he lets his legs lay across his lap—the weight he missed waking to moments earlier.

Matthew sighs, looking back out the window. If Leon sees a shine to them, a flash of wet beneath his eyelids, he wouldn’t bring attention to it. Their emotions are so often guarded, so protected and caged, navigating this pocket of vulnerability with Matthew was something Leon was still getting used to. It gnawed a little worry right into the centre of his ribs, though.

The light in the sky is just starting to shift, deep blue and purple shadows casting onto Matthew’s face. Right here in the dark, just them, it’s easy to imagine there’s nothing greater awaiting them when the sun rises. No huge arena with great expectations, no glory of something they’d both been chasing their whole lives (only to know one of them won’t get there, and it will be the others fault). They were now intertwined in a way that Leon wasn’t sure he liked.

In fact, it made him nauseous to think about.

His life goal was right in front of him, and the only thing standing in his way was breaking the heart of the person he loved the most.

“We’ll get through this, right?” Leon asks, nose screwing up as he looks anywhere else in the room, anywhere but at Matthew beside him. If he does, he's not sure what might spill out.

Matthew’s breath is shaky, and that’s it. Leon prepares himself, braces for impact. The big crash and the limb being ripped away from his body. Instead, “Leo. Of course we will. It’s gonna suck, but we will.”

Leon clears his throat, trying to rid himself of the big lump that was forming there, “Okay. Okay. Good.”

“We have to. Cause I can’t-” Matthew trails off, brushes some of Leon’s sleep mussed hair away from his forehead, “We. Just. You know.”

I can’t imagine life without you. I love you, Leon’s brain supplies. He just nods. Rests his chin in Matthew’s palm and savours the indigo light that blankets them both, “Yah. I know.”

#mattdrai #hrpf #my writing #blurb #angst #hurt/comfort #asks #anon #writing prompts #okeyyyy its one am time for bed for reals now #feel free to send more FDGLDFG #this was funnn #i gotta find some more ask games for this blog omg

[kanerallels]

For @chenford-prompts 2 Weeks of Chenford, prompt: Injured.

This is set sometime mid season four, and is obviously not canon compliant. It's also technically a deleted scene from a fic I'm posting later this week, but doesn't have any real spoilers. Oh, and it was inspired by a piece of art by @accidental-spice, that I will link here when it's posted!

(TW for hospitals and injury)

Tim felt like he spent a lot of time in hospitals for someone who wasn’t a doctor. Sure, it was bound to be a part of his job— hazard of being a cop was you got hurt. A lot. And he was fine with that.

It was when it was someone else who got hurt on his watch that things were different.

He glanced at the bed he was sitting next to, and his heart twisted in his chest at the sight of Lucy Chen, pale and motionless, hooked up to a heart monitor. He hated seeing her like this. It was unnatural for her to be anything less than bright and energetic and full of life.

She’d been shot on patrol. A shooter had gone after him, and she’d tackled him just in time. Just in time for him to be safe, and for her to be hit herself.

Tim could still feel the panic swelling in his chest at the sight of the blood welling through her shirt as he clung to her, begging her to stay with him. She’d been unconscious by the time the ambulance reached them.

But somehow, miraculously, she was alive. The surgery had been fine, and she was supposed to wake up by the next day. The others had been in to visit her— Jackson for a brief stint, Lopez and Wesley right behind him with Thorsen. Genny had been one of the more recent visitors, carrying a bag with his things, and had walked out again with Nolan. He’d stayed longer than almost any of the others— besides Tamara, who had been right there with him for hours, until the Greys insisted on driving her to their house, where she would stay the night.

Tim hadn’t moved from his spot in hours, and he didn’t intend to. Clasping his hands, he bowed his head, emotions swirling in his chest.

She’d taken a bullet for him. And that had landed her in the hospital. I failed. Again. I couldn’t keep her safe.

“Neck deep in the guilt spiral already?”

Tim’s head snapped up at the sound of Harper’s voice. Handing him a disposable cup, she said, “I thought I’d bring better coffee than what they sell here.”

“Thanks,” Tim muttered, taking a sip. 

He could feel her studying him, and elected to ignore it. Finally, she said, “It wasn’t your fault. Lucy knew what she was doing.”

“She was jumping in front of a bullet meant for me. If I hadn’t—”

“No,” Nyla said flatly. “Don’t try and take the credit for it. Lucy made the choice to protect you, and she wouldn’t want you to be worrying about it like this. Don’t make it about you.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Tim said. “I just— she shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what? Shouldn’t have made the same choice any other cop would have made? Shouldn’t have protected someone she cares about?” Nyla snorted. “Sure. When she wakes up, I’d love to see you sell her on that.”

She turned towards the door, then paused, looking at him. “Accept the fact that she got hurt helping you, and then move on. Wallowing in it isn’t going to help anyone. Got it?”

“Got it,” Tim said, looking back at Lucy. Like it or not, he knew she would have said the same thing.

That didn’t mean he was going anywhere, though. Sliding his chair a little closer, he took her hand, lacing his fingers around hers. He felt Harper watching them for a minute, then she turned and left, leaving them alone together.

#2 weeks of chenford 2024 #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #nyla harper #okay two more fun facts! one yes jackson is alive and you can fight me on that #and two one of these days i'm actually gonna do more than just vaguely hint at my crack ship but apparently it is not this day #the rookie #writing stories is a kind of magic too #also it was originally supposed to be angela talking to him #but then she said something and i went wait a second that's harper talking #and then voila there she was!! i haven't written her much but she's one of my faves so it was a lot of fun