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liveyun · 1 year

Text

h a e g e u m | 01

banner by the lovely @archivededits ♡⁠˖

pairing. yoongi x female reader.

genre. mini series. crime au. angst. thriller(?). smut

w. (01) mentions of smoking, injuries, k*lling, corruption, injection (!!)

tags. @secfir

teaser | part 2

01. RED ALERT

She knew something was wrong when she looked at him in the CCTV footage frame by mind numbing frame,for the first time.

However, she her doubts were confirmed when she saw him—for the second time— in the alley near a collapsible gate—skinny, hunched,coated with crimson, smoking— and realised he was the danger rather than being in danger himself. The sort of danger which is fatal, the sort of danger which relishes in the blazing inferno.

The sort of fatal which increases your heartbeats, the sort of danger you know you're fucked up to feel your stomach churn with exictement. The sort of danger who was wanted all over the country, spreading his wings all over the nation with a rapid growth of that like a disease.

It fell upon her to banish the growth, and boy, it wasn't at all easy. It was the clash of opposite elements facing in a battlefield, the only difference being that there had been no swords and no bloodshed, well, not untill now.

Failures after failures. Injuries after injuries. Despair and despair, yet it felt all like a circus to him.

And the third time she saw him, was in her own custody, but she knew something about this man never changed ever since she first laid her eyes on him. Calm, cool and collected— somehow radiating off how much he's aware of his worth and how much of a pain in the ass he has been to finally get captured. But still, this was all but a game to him— something he plays everyday.

“didn't mean to kill the president, my bad. ”

His bloody wrists remains cuffed— she wonders silently if the cuffs burnt into his skin, for why his flesh seemed to be more than bruised, injuries were spread all over. But once again, that particular glint in his eyes told her that it was nothing new for him.

“ You didn't ? ” her reply comes back as a question, implied with a cool sentiment. His eyes rest somewhere down the table she's seated on, particularly on the gun that rests atop. However, his eyes slowly travels up to her own, and she is surpirsed to see how dark they are. The last time she saw them, they were…brown?

“ Remember to always have the lock on your gun always, officer. ”

“ Beating around the bush won't free you from here, D. ” a small laugh, a displeased one. A light exhale, and once again his eyes trailed down to anywhere but away from hers.

“ I always get away, officer. ”

His eyes flick to hers own, a certain hue of coldness flashing across. Maybe she was an officer, but the slightest of the shivers which ran down her spine was undeniable.

There was a thing to argue on : he was pretty. A criminal with a pretty face was dangerous, for why she sensed him as the danger in the first place. From the ridges of his brow to his feline shaped eyes, and the smooth skin had something to do with the carnal impulses this man had.

“ And how is that, if I may ask you?” No sardonic reply came back, not even a chuckle. His curled hair fell elegantly around his neck and forehead, and you wonder again if he knows how beautiful he is. You ponder that he does, the reason he's so cocky about himself in the first place.

“ You're rather nosy for a cop, officer. ”

“ It's my job to interrogate, D. ” And maybe this reply coaxed a small, harsh laugh at you, almost like a hiss. The atmosphere feels rather compelling for you, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that the atrocious behaviour has a single intention, and that is to piss the system off.

His eyes suddenly dart up to your own, and you see the malice behind them, floating in subtle threats. His face, slowly comes your view, dried blood sticking to the corner of his mouth. And his lips quirk upwards so full of amusement, that it did feel like a laugh, but it perplexed you, because a rather alarming siren within a distance was heard. A single commotion had your whole office premises in shambles, because this notice meant a single thing.

Red alert.

The man infront of you didn't react much, and this is the first time you've been called to the red alert. The superior authorities had some difficult time to actually acknowledge that you had caught hold of this hoodlum, or rather the most wanted criminal in the whole Daegu, they were totally astounded in their chairs.

You are totally aware of how treacherous possibilities may occur, now. You did feel dubious when you realised it been way too long for his side to respond,and you must admit that red alert was something you did not expect in the least.

Your phone buzzed in your trouser pants, breaking you from the reverie you had trapped yourself in. Not breaking any eye contact with him, you receive your call.

Lieutenant Police.

“ Officer, we order you to release him, right now. ”

“ May I ask for a reason why? ”

“ You don't ask for a fucking reason why when you're given a red alert within your premises, do you ?”

the voice growls like a mad man, and that voice does not intimidate you, not at all. Even when you know that the red alert is the last warning an officer gets. More of a do or a.. die situation, where you have to do what they instruct, or..

…your straw that you may not survive, and if you do, you'll no longer be accepted as an police officer. The situation is way too dangerous to keep hostage criminals like him,but it's been forty eight hours since you've captured him. Red alerts chime within four hours.

That means you're in grave danger.

Isn't he sitting infront of you already?

“ I still stand regard to my question, Lieutenant. ”

“ The Min Orphanage will break down our department if you don't fucking release the man right now. ”

Min orphanage ?

The man's brows pinch all of a sudden, the only sort of emotion other than sarcasm he has ever let out since. Do you see a flash of..concern in his features?

Your brain refuses to work, because in what actual ways would be a notorious criminal like him, connected to an orphanage, that too in such a way, that it seems like the orphanage is more inclined towards him? Your own brow pinches as you hear a sigh from the other side of the call.

“ Officer, you maybe are yet to realise how much in danger you're in, right now. ”

“ I’m just seeking for answers which have been unspoken and unapproached since, Lieutenant. ”

“ If you do not release him.. ”

there's a sickening silence which follows. However, you can hear chaos from the other side which is rare, because the upper departments are supposed to have a pin drop silence. His eyes never leave your own, and the ticking down of water droplets as Mother Nature starts pouring her soul out, you feel a light throb at the back of your head. His eyes are challenging, captivating, ironic because you're his capturer now.

He's intriguing in so many ways than one.

“ They're all little children here, and in no way we can take any particular option even if you had something on your mind, officer. ”

Another reaction. A light, unamused snort.

Another commotion. Muffled screams and yells are constantly changing their paces as you hear shuffling, and suddenly you're hearing vigorous panting from the other side, and a much older voice.

“ ____, I ORDER YOU TO RELEASE HIM, RIGHT NOW. ”

a voice you never expected to hear, not atleast now.

“ Supreme, he's a threat. A real danger if he's let out—”

“ you. are. ordered to let him go right now, because I absolutely cannot risk my team to sail closer to the wind because of your cheap ego. ”

his voice trembled with rage, and your throat feels dry to hear the screams echoing inwards to your own room. Bangs of gunshots and panicked screams as you hear the snaps of fire outside, most likely advancing towards your own room, now. Silent gangs like these get vigorous at times like these.

Cheap ego.

If your ego is cheap and this situation is playing with fire, you'd rather chose to burn your money to that burning whirls of arrogance. This wasn't easy, it wasn't easy to achieve the victory over the challenging, yet collected eyes of the gangster infront of you. If your team, or rather those puppets who shamelessly dance along to the beat they're instructed to, you'd wholeheartedly admit, that you were the only reason why he's here. Infront of you.

Alas, let people call you selfish and self centred, but you've learnt in this struggling world that if you're not so, you'd be used and thrown around like a rag full of holes. And even if your position is at stake, your years of hardwork going to vain because of this menace infront of you— you cannot help but risk that if you've reached till this far, you will ace your goals. You cannot be a sore loser in the end.

“ I’m not letting him free. ”

Silence, but chaos.

“ You're terminated from your position, Miss ___. ”

The call ended.

And so did your dignity as a police officer.

You close your eyes for a moment. You feel sick; it meant that you were no longer in charge of his custody, the head of your team, and no longer an official. No body would give a fuck if you make out of here alive, or if your dead body is dumped somewhere and you rot. No one would care.

You were ready for this exactly the moment you heard the sirens,but however maybe you weren't totally ready to acknowledge that. Your hands feel clammy by the time you put your phone on the table, and the unpleasant feeling of your hair sticking to your neck is creepy. You sigh, your whole life dedicated to your career was shattered by the system, just because you were inclined for the safety of your people..

..or maybe because you were just a mere puppet, too.

..or maybe you're blinded by anger to actually come out of your haze and take care of what's happening, but it's of no use; you're partially bounded.

“ Wouldn't that be a crime if you'd hit me now, officer? ”

his voice echoed in your ears, and the officer in the end hit you like a pan on your head. He sounded all collected and cool: much to the contradiction to the inner turmoil you were going through. Anger courses in your veins to see his bleeding lips quirk upwards at your misery, but again..is he really the one to blame?

He got what he wanted, the system got ehat they wanted, and even if you're reluctant to see anything else, you know you're the loser here. A sore loser. Indignation rises in your chest as you take a look at him, your head suddenly feeling lighter than usual. Your throat burns to speak, and your heart thrums in it's cage.

“ Thank you, D. ”

“ It'd be better if you start your countdown now, officer. ” his voice is barely a whisper as now there's a sudden throb in your head, and his voice a mere croak by the time you gasp to fill in air inside your lungs. Silence, it's a wicked silence as the murmurs deepen.

Your jaw clenches as you feel the sting, an overwhelming sting, your limbs feel numb, and the wider your eyes open, the blurrier it seems now. The room spins, as the yells increase and the rifles scream, they all turn to a crestfallen murmur.

Is this your end?

Your throat hurts, hurts, and its just an outline of his wrists, cuffed wrists, the mop of black hair, your identity card on the table, his wrists..something held within..what, what.. Your head ducks down in an immediate effort to get a better look, but lolls away immediately, too weak and throbbing to work, and everything goes black.

But screw that, you didn't see the injection needle pricking the skin of your thigh as he injects the whole of the syringe into your system skillfully with his thumb, his eyes burning with rage. The same shit eating grin on his lips, as he sticks his tongue out to lick the dried blood on his mouth.

“ You're welcome, officer. ”

#bts au #yoongi au #bts fics #yoongi fics #bts smut #yoongi smut #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic

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jiejies-corner-store · 1 year

Text

his reaction to you getting hurt (nsfw)

§ pairing: zandik (il dottore) x fem!reader

§ summary: il dottore while only tolerate to see cuts and bruises on you done by his own hand. so when you are retrieved after being kidnapped, he will expend all of himself to fix such a grevious error.

§ tags/cw: spoilers for genshin sumeru interactibles, use of dottore’s speculated name, nsfw, unintentional self-harm, ptsd, anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of torture, body horror, dottore himself, kidnapping, broken bones, medical content, unintentional gaslighting (?), slight medical fetish, cunnilingus, spit-swallowing, cum eating, breeding (probably), possessiveness, biting, dottore’s fat kok, desk sex, office sex, belly-bulge, sex written by an asexual virgin.

§ notes: this is atrocious i’m sorry

§ word count: 3.9k

IL DOTTORE (ZANDIK)

• In all honestly, if it were Dottore’s choice, he wouldn’t be standing in his lab this late at night watching as the Treasure Hoarder’s organs was being replaced with a ruin guard’s inner working when he could be in bed with you.

• The thing kept whimpering incessantly. The work was messy, even by his standards. The wires weren’t perfectly aligned nor were the cuts he had made. He didn’t care at this point. All he wanted was for you to be in his arms.

• It’d been a long week, but if it meant you would be able to look at him without having violent flashbacks of being attacked, kidnapped, and tortured, then it would all be worth it.

• Speaking of,

“Are you ready to croak?” Dottore hummed, running the scapel along some veins in the treasure hoarder’s chest. “It would be a deal more convient if you went ahead started talking. Your friends didn’t hold up so well when it came to this part and I don’t have high hopes you would either.”

The treasure hoarder’s eyes had glazed over slightly from the hours of pain. Most of his less vital veins and nervous system had been replaced with oil tubes and wires. Dried blood decorated the table from where Dottore took his sweet time cauterizing each incision.

He scowled. The Treasure Hoarder had stopped begging for mercy a while ago and now he wasn’t sure if it was still lucid enough to speak. His blood boiled thinking about you. How long was it before you stopped calling out for help? How long had you cried for him to come save you, only for there to be no response? Sure, he did find you and he did save you eventually, but by then it was too late. They had already bruised your beautiful face, and cuts littered your skin. The ones that hadn’t turned tail and fled the second they heard he was coming were not spared from his wrath when he arrived. There was no body to identify when he had left the scene.

Annoying whimpers came from the Treasure Hoarder’s chest. Dottore ripped the adhesive cloth off its mouth. This was one of the ones that had run. Of course, Dottore hunted down each and every one of the filthy rats who had a hand in your suffering. For the ones who fled like cowards, he managed to control himself and prolong their torture by letting them become test subjects. The weaker ones he sent to Arlecchino for the children’s target practice. A gesture of goodwill for her assistance in tracking them down.

The Treasure Hoarder started yammering out nonsense and Dottore scoffed, pressing the scapel down into its chest to prepare for some remodelling. It shrieked like a stuck boar and then started making sense of its words.

▪ What Dottore heard from the test subject did not make him happy in the slightest, neither did it surprise him, but he was really hanging onto the hope that it would be a simple, clear cut case—that he’d be able to shower the blood off himself and find you in bed while his segments finished up the work.

▪ Unfortunately it seemed it would be a long, long night. The treasure horder finally revealed that it was in fact someone else who had put them up to it. Planted the idea that they could profit off of the entire endeavor, and even gave them all of the intel they needed to carry it out.

▪ After cleaning the blood and viscera from his body and changing clothing, Dottore stopped by your shared bedroom and peered at your bandages. He held his breath waiting to see yours. Only when he saw the slight rise and fall of your chest did he relax. He carefully changed the bandages and examined the deep gashes in your sides and arms. Those, were not from the Treasure Hoarders.

▪ The memory still played fresh in his mind:

“No—no no! I’m sorry—“ you had sobbed, curling yourself into a corner of the bedroom. Your eyes darted from side to side like a wild animal. It was a sight he was used to seeing from his test subjects but not you—never you. He would never raise a hand to you. “I promise I won’t—I won’t cause problems please just—don’t—“

“My love,” Dottore said, his voice barely carrying through to you. He held one hand out as he slowly approached, trying to ease you back into bed where he could calm down. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was upset the papers were moved. I didn’t mean anything by it please just—“

His words weren’t getting through to you whatsoever. The more he spoke the faster your breathing got, and the tighter the knot in his chest got. He was getting anxious waiting for you to come back to him. He took one step toward you and you just lost it. Your breathing was in triple time as you rushed towards the glass window, hurdling your full body’s strength and weight at it and shattering through the panes. Everything from there happened in slow motion. He was helpless to watch you—you, his one vulnerability—fall from the second story of his manor, glass shards creating deep gashes in your arms and legs all to be met his a sickening crunch as your body hit the snow.

Guards and waitstaff immediately swarmed you like ants and Dottore stepped away from the window. He didn’t care about the price of the stained glass, or how much of a mess there was on the floor. Your body lying on the pristine white snow—your blood seeping out into the surrounding ice—was branded onto his memory.

• It was at that point Dottore knew that he had to do more than just find the men who hurt you. He had to annihilate them. Any trace of them would be wiped clean from this earth. Everything for that matter, and he meant everything, that threatened your safety would be eradicated. That was the only way he could ensure that what happened that snowy morning never happened again.

• So as he watched you sleeping figure, arms and legs wrapped in casts and bandages he couldn’t help but feel even more stirred on to complete his goal. He hazarded a gentle kiss onto your forehead and went back to his lab to do more research. He would find out who dared threaten a harbinger’s darling and he would make them pay.

Days went by, then weeks, then it was a whole two months since the treasure hoarder had spilled all of his secrets. The pathetic thing didn’t last long after that. Dottore’s Segments ripped him to shreds. If there was one thing that was universal about all Dottore clones was a fiercely protective love for you. Of course, there was no one on all of Teyvat who could possibly love you more than Dottore Prime. However, for the entire stint of your recovery, only the younger segments of himself could even get near you. Dottore himself and all of his older segments made you clam up. It put you on the brink of another attack. Worst of all and what made the least sense was that Dottore Prime, the original, THE Dottore, made all of these anxieties hit their vaporizing point. As badly as it hurt him to have to allow his other segments to take care of you, he let them because it was in your best interest.

However, surely as the night must give over to day, you began to heal. In both senses. That morning he helped you dress and suggested that the two of you spend a day out together.

He knew you were getting cabin fever, and there was only so many things he could do to entertain you in his lab. So on this rare day that he gave himself off he decided to take you to the capital for a relaxing date out of the house. You seemed calm. Not exactly happy, but at least you weren’t on the brink of another panic attack. That much Dottore was grateful for.

Ever since that day, Dottore had been extremely careful about what he said around you. He wasn’t sure what happened in that stint that you were kidnapped, but whatever it was it left you haunted. He made sure not to say anything about messes, needing to fix something in the lab, or—strangely enough—being home for dinner. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was about those three things that set you off, but he made damn sure he didn’t ever bring it up in conversation.

You reached out to pick up a small trinket while Dottore kept his eyes on the vendor. Just as you had leaned forward enough to be vulnerable, Dottore the vendor move. He immediately pushed you back into your wheelchair and pulled you away from the vendor.

“Zandik!”

The man blinked. How many times had you called his name? He’d completely blacked out. His actions had gone to autopilot. Your eyebrows were knit with concern and you slumped back down. “Maybe we should just go home. I didn’t mean for this to be stressful for you. I only asked because I thought…” you trailed off, “Nevermind… let’s just go home.”

Zandik opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it when he saw the tired expression in your eyes, and he didn’t have it in himself to argue with you.

• He began returning much later in the night, long after you’d gone to sleep. The bags under his eyes only grew heavier with each passing week. He grit his teeth and began unbuttoning his dress shirt to yank his tie off. Each time he had a promising lead, it was like it set him back another week. One step forward and two steps back.

• As he climbed into bed he noticed dried streaks on your cheeks. He carefully thumbed one and watched as you whined and shifted away from his touch, fresh tears springing to your eyes. You subconciously turned away from him, and even though he knew you didn’t mean to, his heart shattered all the more.

• He got up out of bed and pulled his labcoat on over his shoulders, heading to his office. He would not allow himself to sleep until he could tell you that this world was safe for you. Until he could say every thing that could possibly harm you was wiped from existence. He would not allow you to die. He would not allow you to be taken away from him like the rest of the good things in his life had been. You were his only vulnerability. The only person who didn’t shun him. And come abyss or high water, he would fucking protect you.

• Maybe then when he laid in bed with you, you wouldn’t cower away from his touch. Maybe then you’d know that he was your protector. Your guardian devil. He would burn down the whole of Teyvat and Celestia to ensure your safety.

• Various papers were scattered around his desk. Each a profile of a potential threat. Each one opening the door to a whole new world of profiles. He picked up his pen and began working.

He wasn’t sure when, but the door creaked open. It wasn’t until he heard your feet padding across the wood parquetry did he notice you. And Archons, did he notice you. Standing in his rumpled dresshirt and just a pair of your underwear, his breath stole itself away from him. For the past few months he’d been so caught up in his work that he hadn’t seen you. Not really. Not like this. Your arms were still wrapped up in bandages, but the casts had been removed and you’d regained a good deal of your strength.

You said nothing as you approached him and crawled onto his lap. He set his pen down and held you, scooting away from the desk slightly to properly accommodate you in his lap. You curled in sideways, bracing yourself with your back to one armrest and your feet anchoring you in on the other. He brought his hand up to brush some hair out of your eyes and you grabbed it. You flipped his palm over and ran a thumb over the gold band on his ring finger.

There was a bloated pause, before you took in a shaky breath and asked in a fragile voice: “Zandik. Do you still love me?”

Before he could even respond, you continued.

“I… I keep having nightmares. I had another one tonight,” you whispered, continuing to trace his wedding band, “…I keep dreaming that you leave me. That… you just decide one day that I’m too much trouble, and you leave.”

He felt like he’d been suckerpunched by a ruin guard.

Your body began trembling, “This is all my fault… if… I just—I don’t know. If I hadn’t run away that night none of this would have ever happened. You wouldn’t be in your office all of the time and we’d be okay. I never should have said anything—everything was fine and then I had to just go and open my stupid fucking mou—“

“Stop.”

You trembled harder and gripped the lapels of his lab coat.

“Don’t talk like that. Do you understand me?” Zandik asked, taking your face into his hands, “You are the only person on all of Teyvat worth my time.”

“B-but… you’ve been drowning yourself in work… I thought it was so that you—you would have time away from me,” you hiccuped, fat tears rolling down your face.

Zandik shook his head, handing you some of the profiles of the people who he’d deemed a threat. You recognized some of them, some of them were the ones who were your attackers. “This is what I’ve been working on.”

You gripped the papers harder. “You’ve been—that’s why you were so paranoid when we went into the city,” you looked at him with a pitiful expression. “I thought… I just…”

“Everything I do is for you. Don’t you see that?”

“But—whenever I try to work through things—it always ends up in a fight and that’s… that’s why I—”

Zandik’s eyes widened. He barely even recalled what happened before you were kidnapped that night. All he remembered was the sheer panic—the way his consciousness seemed to be so distant from his body—then the blazing hot rage he felt seeing you beaten within an inch of your life nearly four days later.

“I just—all I wanted was to talk to you. I know you’re a doctor, a scientist. You fix things but—it’s like instead of just being with me, all you do is drown yourself in your work, trying to fix things,” you said, setting the papers aside. “I don’t need you to fix things, I just… I just need you. To be with me. That’s all I need.”

Zandik paused. Trying to take in all of the information. He remembered now. That night before you were kidnapped.

• He was home late from the labratory again. You were sitting at the table looking dejected when he came into the dining room. The meal had long gone cold, yet you still sat there with a cup of your preferred comfort beverage. He hung his lab coat and mask over the back of his chair, sitting down as he took note of the tense atmosphere.

• “We need to talk, Zandik,” you said finally, polishing off the last sip of your drink and setting the cup down. “This is the third week that you’ve not been home for dinner. Is there something going on that I should know about?”

• “It’s nothing. I’ll be home for dinner from now on.” he responded sharply. The new trainees at the lab were driving him insane. Of course, not that he would tell you that. He didn’t want your pretty little head to worry about anything.

• “Would you please just tell me what’s going on?”

• Zandik exhaled out his nose in frustration, “I’ve already told you. Nothing. Can we please proceed into our evening?”

• “Not until you tell me what’s been bothering you,” you persisted

• “I’ve already given you an answer. I said I’d be home for dinner from now on—what else do you need to hear?!”

• “Archons, Zandik! That’s not the problem! I don’t care if you’re home for dinner on time or not! I just want to know what’s going on!” you had moved and sat up straighter.

• “If being home in time for dinner wasn’t the problem, then why in Celestia did you feel the need to bring it up? If you would just tell me what the problem is, then I can fix it,” he huffed.

• “You—ugh! You just—can’t…” your hands had balled themselves up as you struggled for words. You hated how he always managed to do this. It made you feel stupid. He always had words for what he was feeling, and it was like you couldn’t ever get a word in edge-wise. On one hand you loved his brains, on the other, it made him a pain in the ass to talk to.

That night, after your argument, you’d stormed out of the manor to clear your head. That’s when some treasure hoarders had kidnapped you and dragged you off, thinking they could ransom you off or sell you into the black market slave.

“That’s what you wanted to talk about that night,” Zandik realized and you nodded weakly.

“I just… I love you so much, but it’s times like that when I feel like we’re not really married…” you admitted, “I never know how to bring up stuff like that. I feel like I know you so well and then it’s like you’re a completely foreign being to me. You know everything about me, but I feel like I just… I…”

Zandik pressed his lips to your forehead, taking in the smell of your shampoo as he littered kisses along the crown of your head. A silent vow that he would try. For you, he’d try.

Carefully, he set you up on his desk, shoving the smattering of papers onto the floor. He stood up from his chair and positioned himself between your legs, trailing a line of kisses from your shoulder blade to your lips. When you pulled away for air, your lips were glossy with his saliva, parted slightly as you tried to regain your breath.

“Then let me give you everything I have,” he mumbled, pushing his dress shirt off his shoulders as he pulled your body close. Your fingers slipped themselves under the fabric and pushed it further down, spreading warmth across his cold torso.

He put a hand on your back as he pushed you down further onto the desk, lowering you until you were fully presented to him on the dark oak. Your panties came off and thrown somewhere in the darkness. He kneeled down, blowing cold air teasingly as your thigh went to snap shut around him, but were stoppped by his hands gripping both of your legs.

His tongue probed around the entrance of your seeping cunt, licking up all of the slick that had already begun to gather there. After that, he didn’t give you much more time to prepare yourself as he had already began to dig in. His tongue worked at teasing the spot he knew made you weak, all while he gripped to bruise, shoving your sex closer to his face. Each time you tried to squirm he only went faster, and he let his pointy teeth graze your clit, sending warning shocks up your spine. The knot in your stomach burst and you began to quiver while his tongue kept working your insides, lapping up your orgasm until you had nothing left to give.

Keeping his grip on your legs, he dragged his body against yours until he was leering over you. He tapped your cheek, signaling you to open your mouth. When you did, he let the mixture of his saliva and your cum dribble into your mouth.

“Swallow. Consider it your new medicine. Don’t you want to make a fast and speedy recovery?” he hummed, holding your face in his hand. Too blissed out on your last orgasm, you didn’t responsd, which earned you a click of his tongue, and his cock’s head smacked against your clit.

You made a stifled noise as you retreated from the sensation, and finally reacted, swallowing the viscious mixture and responding in breathy pants, “Y-yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Yes—yes, doctor.”

“Good… now be a good patient and hold still. This treatment method is still experimental,” he ordered, taking his cock into his fist and lining it up before bottoming out in one smooth movement. The impact left you reeling and panting out his name. “Shhh… you’re alright, darling.“ His hand carefully brushed some hair stuck to your forehead off. When you had stopped spasming around him, he took his index finger and carefully traced the outline that his dick had made on your belly.

“Look at you, being such a good girl,” he praised, pulling himself out and teasing your entrance once again before he split you open on his cock again. “You’re made for this, aren’t you? Custom molded to my body.”

After stretching you out on the complete length of his cock, he pulled you in closer to the edge of the desk, cradling your body closer to his. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You bit back a moan as his angle changed and he once again started abusing that spot deep inside of you that had you seeing stars “—‘m yours Zandik! Only yours—need you. Need your cock…”

Something akin to a growl ripped itself out of the scientist’s throat as he bit down on your shoulder, sucking red marks into the soft flesh there. His thrusts got faster and shallower and he pulled back only slightly to look down at the place you were connected, listening as your wetness made erotic noises that filled the nighttime atmosphere of his office. A thick white ring had formed around his cock as he kept drilling into you, making his movements quicker and more frantic.

“P-please—inside,” you moaned, feeling him twitch as you desperately grasped onto his back, leaving red trails where your fingernails tried to find purchase in his milky white skin. “Need you—fill me up.”

It only egged him on more. Feeling your silken walls start to tighten on him, making it harder to bully his full length up into you. He pushed a hand against the bulge on your belly as he snapped his hips harder, making your body tense up as you whined out his name, pushing him to his own edge. His body seized slightly as he filled up your insides with his seed. He kept himself there for a moment, plugging it up as it began to seep out and leak back down around his cock and onto the desk.

He slid himself out, watching as his spend seeped out, only to be gathered up by his fingers and coaxed into your mouth..

“You’re all mine, no one will ever take you from me,” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours as your eyes began to flutter closed.

#genshin impact #il dottore #dottore x reader #dottore #genshin impact dottore #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin smut

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groovyfandomhuman · 2 months

Text

Y'know what? use neopronouns. use they/them. use anything but she/her and he/him

I love cavetown, Hozier, Paris Paloma, and Yungblud specifically :)

I love the riordanverse and poetry and this intro is probably gonna go on for a while on account that I like talking

My Wattpad handle is MiaFlanagan362, bc I still don't have Ao3 :p

I suck at tagging people, so if I ever reblog a picrew thing, go wild because there is a low chance i'll tag you

You will never ever annoy me if you

Send me random anons

reply to my posts

send me an ask

reblog me

need to talk/vent/rant about anything

talk to me

say hello

give me random love

“bother” me

DNI

Please leave me alone if you are: - A proshipper - A bigot - An LGBTphobe / transmed / ect - Nazi / fascist / conservative - Weird about furries or furry art - Weird about fandom headcanons (specifically trans woman headcanons) ((Also i'm a minor so don't be weird, you know what that means))

I directly support:

- All races

- All sexualities (except pedos, y'all aren't LGBT, You're actively hurting children. or 'rapesexual'. that's disgusting and atrocious.)

- All genders and pronouns

- All "weird" identities outside of that as well

- Protests and protesters

- Neurodivergent people of all types (and yes, this means NPD, schizophrenia, and all those other types that are often seen as bad or evil. I see you, and I support you.)

- DID & OSDD systems

I DO NOT support:

Antisemitism -

Genocide -

Cults (*stuff like Jehova's Witnesses. I support the members, as they are victims, but I actively dislike the people on top who perpetuate the cycle.)

- Racism in any way, shape, or form

- Religious discrimination/abuse of any way, shape, or form

- Israel specifically

- Trump, conservatives, Nazis, ect.

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trashcanwithsprinkles · 11 months

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masterlist of stuff i’ve drawn

i went and tried to set up a tagging system for people to be able to search stuff thru my blog with ease, but since tumblr’s search engine and tag system is atrocious, i’ve made an actual masterlist regardless

in case you do want to use the tags to search thru the blog, here’s the system:

.png is the general art tag of stuff i’ve drawn

fanart for me is the tag for, well, fanart i’ve been sent

.png fic is the tag for art i’ve made of my fics

.png cyanide is the tag for art i’ve made of cyanide narwhal. the distinction from .png fic is in case i post art of any other fics i make somewhere down the line

and .png genshin is the tag for general genshin fanart i’ve posted

however, as we all know tumblr’s search system is fucked, i’d reccomend you have a look at the masterlist past the keep reading cut

so yeah!

proper masterlist below vvv

fic fanart people have sent me

kanda’s drawings of childe, morax, and xiao

friendlynaborhooddisapointment’s drawing of skirk

tickymikky’s drawing of childe in his narwhal construct

arisamaxwell’s drawing of childe and morax

right-on-the-money’s drawings of childe and nadezdha, and the frozen pillar

taffybet’s drawing of morax

anzysart’s drawing of some zvezdochoty murals

my art

◘ stuff from cyanide narwhal

character designs

xinyi and chenzhu

guizhong

trail clearer and zhihao

nadezhda, tonia, anton, and teucer

depth claws and skirk (young)

basileios and crimson thorn (both young)

lord vinea and aspasia (young)

sparkborn, fire hopper, raincaller, dew cover, madame ping, guhua, rising gust, and razor gale

pheynix, skirk (old), and andromache

a rough sketch of skirk’s foul legacy form

the tsaritsa

morax’ parents

other stuff

morax and childe gossiping

the yakshas

childe and his hydro constructs

rex lapis being technically taller than everyone

the braids childe made for morax

the glow of morax and childe’s eyes (the ask is a bit long but the drawing is in the reply)

the earring morax made for childe

◘ general genshin art

some of my in-game teams as piles of sleeping people

childe and zhongli as pokemon trainers

lumine, aether, and xiao as pokemon trainers

the genshinsona i made

thoma, ayaka, and ayato as pokemon trainers

#ily all <3

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 1 month

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Hope this is okay to ask but do you not like fictives following you? I'm Vox (alter in a system) and you blocked me on my sideblog.

Nah I don't have some specific bias against fictives. Honestly I don't care who follows me, all my blocks are motivated by the fact that I don't want to see certain things. I usually block blogs for a) atrocious takes that ruin my day b) posting or notoriously reblogging stolen art c) when Tumblr pushes them in my face too much eg. Recently half of my for you page was one roleplay blog i completely didn't care about and marking it as "not interested" didn't help. So I blocked it. Similar case with blogs I find uninteresting or annoying that often use tags I follow.

Anyway sorry if I hurt your feelings, I'm just very strict about curating my Tumblr experience.

#private #ask

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jikimo-world · 2 months

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Tumblr should let you be free. This can't even be blamed on their shitty views on trans women, it's just crazy.

The truth is I like to post some suggestive things sometimes but they are never very graphic or vulgar.

I just like intimacy and not verbal forms of human language, and in fact the attention is always on faces or hands and there aren't visible private parts (Actually I also want trans people can see themselves reflected in my arts if they want)

And in addition, they are just drawings? In a such not detailed style???

Every day countless p*rn bot blogs follow me and they have on their feeds the most atrocious scenes you can imagine! Real people's photos and videos!

They send even more horrible things in my direct!

And you ever see the nsfw links spammed in your favourite tag?????

I really think that everyone can post what they want (with the accurate warnings) but WHY is my blog the one under constant censorship watch?

The Tumblr priority system is so weird, I can't even use some words or topics without risking my blog's visibility!

But I can accept being censored, because I'm as obstinate as a mule and I always find a way.

But WHY are p*orn blogs and ED/TW/SH supporters/celebrators free to do what they want but a trans man can't show himself in a binder? How is it that this social automatically consider trans women predators or perverts?

Why are their words obscured?

#sorry for my english

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ao3feed-nanago · 2 months

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Skewered Hearts

by 844 Suguru very much did not want to be here. The room was too stuffy, the rum he had in his hand tasted disgusting, and the food selection was truly atrocious. He has spent the last hour standing near the snack table, gorging on an ungodly amount of hors d'oeuvres that tasted as bad as the alcohol running through his system, and he was nowhere closer to having fun than when he got here. A few of his coworkers have approached him, asking him how he’s doing and whether a specific snack item was good or notーand the answer was always noーbut he had been short with them. He didn’t care about anybody this afternoon except for a special someone. The entire reason he had finally decided to attend a workplace party, after being at the same company for two years now, was because of Nanami Kento. More specifically, Nanami Kento’s wife. Or: Suguru only came to this work party to meet the wife of the most rigid man he knows, but instead meets the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and those two statements are more related than he could have ever imagined Words: 3993, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Getou Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, Fushiguro Tsumiki Relationships: Gojo Satoru/Nanami Kento, One-Sided Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru - Relationship Additional Tags: One-Sided Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru, one sided on geto's side, bc nanago are married, Female Gojo Satoru, Established Relationship, POV Outsider, parents nanago, Getou Suguru is His Own Warning, Teacher Gojo Satoru, Crack Treated Seriously, geto lowkey has a one sided rivalry with nanami, he cant get a single person to reciprocate his feelings, One-Sided Attraction via https://ift.tt/6QdulXW

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #nanago #gojo satoru #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke · 4 months

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Not everyone will have the same knowledge base as you and that's a good thing.

I tagged a post with a joke about the fact that I didn't recognize the subject of the painting Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel as Lucifer and only knew of the painting because of this meme:

It went through the whole tag peer review and mercifully the person who posted a screenshot of the tags censored my username. His post was not mean to me, I found it funny, but some of the replies were atrocious. People seemed genuinely angry that I knew about the painting because of a post on the internet and not because I learned about art history through school or personal research.

I'm a science person, more specifically biology. I know the basic information I need to about history, as well as the additional info I need in order to understand how biology as a discipline became what it is today. I don't know art history because there's no reason for me to know art history outside of curiosity, and I have no curiosity about it. In the same way, I wouldn't expect someone interested in and studying art history to be able to name the regions of the human brain and their functions. If you can, cool! If not, that's fine, people like me are learning it for you! Personal knowledge being limited to a few main topics is not a sign that the school system or society is failing us. This is the system, a system that humans have worked out to sort through the huge amount of knowledge we've collected over time. We learn some basic stuff we need in order to function as people while our brains and young and malleable (or "plastic" as developmental psychologists put it) and then specialize as we get older based on our interests.

Each of us have things we're good at and enjoy and things we're not good at and don't enjoy. The world is a lot better when you're thankful for and recognize the importance of people who completely don't relate to your own talents and interests.

#I debated whether this was important enough to make a post about #but in light of talks about the failure of especially the USAmerican school system #I want to emphasize that everyone knowing everything is not achievable or good #we need to be offered a wide variety of topics so we can find our interests #but focusing in is a good thing and not a sign that you're stupid or uneducated

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eeveecraft · 9 months

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Hihi! I saw this post in the syscourse tag and was wondering if u had seen it?

https://www.tumblr.com/kipandkandicore/723924087333879808/alright-so-we-feel-like-we-need-to-respond-to

The post says u blocked that user. I wanted to make sure u knew about this in case you didnt since its about your essay and all

Well, you can probably understand why I have them blocked. I was initially planning to reply to it, but I decided against it because I really don't want to give it attention.

Like, oh my god, that post is atrocious. Nearly every goddamn sentence they typed (out of 2.6k WORDS) is twisted or just false. All it did was really highlight how horribly ignorant this system is of not only our community (seriously, they say they've been in the Tulpamancy community for a year and has a spouse who has a tulpa, but then clearly state misinformation like "Tulpamancy" or "Tulpamancer" being used with the paranormal definition of "tulpa" when both of those terms were made in the community and are exclusively used by the community), but also just Buddhism in general.

For context: that system is white and clearly suffers from white savior complex, it isn't even funny. They go on tirades about uplifting POC, but then are the ones to make Google Docs, make these harmful posts, and legitimately harm people with them (some of which definitely include POC). They tried to group all Asians into one homogeneous group that can dictate each other's culture (which is so goddamn racist, what the hell) and when they were called out on it, they backpedaled and then swapped to lumping all Asian *Buddhists* into one group that can have say over all of Buddhism. They have this habit of stripping the nuance from things like religion and race, and in my opinion, that is far more harmful than us using "tulpa."

And like every single system who tries to say us using "tulpa" has caused harm, they provide zero actual examples of "tulpa" specifically causing harm to Tibetan Buddhists. Yeah, they linked articles to other aspects of Tibetan Buddhism being appropriated and how those specific instances are harmful, but I'm gonna say this for the umpteenth time: tulpa was DERIVED from Tibetan language, not directly ripped. Tulpa as a word literally does not exist in Tibetan and if you tried saying it to a Tibetan person, they're going to look at you funny.

Every single time any of us has asked for any specific instance of "tulpa" being used by the Tulpamancy community causing harm to actual Tibetan Buddhists, these people can't provide any because there is no harm. They just can't admit it.

And again, though they can't cite any harm besides the word annoying them, we can cite multiple instances of harm being done to the community and others because of posts made by this system, Amanitasys, and more.

Such as: The harassment we faced before. Sophie being told to end it because she uses tulpa (and literally is one).

The post you linked labeling us as racist, @cambriancrew as ableist, and @sophieinwonderland as a "proud racist."

Posts like these flooding the #tulpa tag.

And more! We have literally been told in Discord servers that people want to drop tulpa, not because they agree that it's appropriative and/or racist, but because they're tired of arguing/getting harassed.

That sounds like a harassment campaign, NOT a good-faith discussion on a term that DOES have a murky history of both good and bad.

Oh, can't forget how they called me racist because I supposedly "promot[e] incredibly racist ideas," and they provide ZERO evidence for this besides me saying tulpa isn't an inherently racist word. While also simultaneously going (paraphrasing), "Well, we don't condone harassment, buuuut we can see why because Eeveecraft is racist." Please tell me I'm not the only one who realizes what's being implied there.

Overall, that post is, quite frankly awful in every sense of the word and it really highlights why "tulpa = appropriation" is very often not made in good faith. I don't even encourage replying to it and slam-dunking it into the ground like it deserves because all that does is give it more attention and visibility. Though obviously, I can't stop people from doing so, even if I don't condone it. EDIT: I also want to add that this system says that the majority of systems who say "tulpa = appropriation" are pro-endogenic, but then posts like this exist that just blatantly disprove that.

And in that same post, you can see what many users on r/Buddhism think about Tulpamancy and most of them are either neutral/fine with it. Who woulda thunk it?

7-27-2023

#tulpamancy #plurality #actuallyplural #endogenic #tulpa #cultural appropriation #anon ask #ask #anonymous #anonymous ask

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