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yaut-jaknowit · 4 months

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Yautja males x female reader. Reader is sent to the hunting grounds by mistake, she ain't a fighter and has a faint heart, the minute the Yautja ambush her, she faints.

Like, drops to the floor unconscious and the yautja are wondering what to do, like they were expecting a big hunt and she faints, pathetically, not real prey.

Lighthearted

Pairings: T'a'yta, Con'tei, Dai'stbaen (All male Yautjas) x Reader

Word Count: 2993

Summary: When you first come to, this wasn't the sight you last saw. A vast, towering jungle that looked ready to swallow you whole with no remorse. The humidity and heat was a killer as you were forced to move your way through. But it never ended. Like time itself, it seemed to have no beginning nor no ending. When you thought things couldn't get worse, don't count your eggs before they hatch.

Author Note: So, those names may sound familiar. They are from a story that was never publish and I abandoned. It will never be written though but I do love the characters.

Masterlist

Ao3

Pain raked across your body. Your eyes fluttered open only to be blinded by light. A rough, jutting stick pressed into the sore flesh of your back. With a groan, you covered your face with a hand and sat up. The muscles all along the entirety of your back protested at the movement. They screamed as you rested heavily onto your elbows and thighs.

An unrelenting headache pressed behind your eyes while you tried to gather your thoughts. Finally, you opened your eyes and took in the surrounding area.

Lush greens and dense foliage graced your blurry vision. Humidity stuck to you like a second skin, clothes following the same suit. You shuttered at the feeling and sat up higher, as if that would allow you to see better. You were still squinting to allow your pupils to slowly adjust to the sudden change from dark to light.

Once you were able to open your eyes fully and take in the sight, your jaw dropped. This… this wasn’t your bed, your room, let alone your home! Where were you?! You scrambled to your feet only to collapse back down to the ground. Everything ached down to the very bone. A grunt surpassed your lips. Then, you realized, something was secured around your torso.

A harness of sorts was locked into place. You fumbled with the belt for an embarrassing long minute before pulling it off. It crumbled onto the ground at your feet. From there, you slowly pull yourself into a standing position and kept glancing around.

Maybe this was a bad dream; a waking nightmare to be stuck in a jungle. A weird dream in all honesty. You clutched at your head then pinched yourself, ready to wake up in the safety of your room.

The jungle didn’t fade to black. Everything stayed the same. So, you tried again. And again. And again. Nothing changed. All was the same. You furrowed your brows, chest starting to heavy with panic. “No, no, no, no,” you muttered to yourself and began to pace around. Your feet crunched under the dead foliage that covered the ground.

The longer this peristed, you felt dread and doubt fill your lungs. How were you going to do this? Why and how were you out here? Where is out here?! A broken whine sounded from the back of your throat as you plopped back down on the ground. Leaves crunched underneath you as the new weight. You cradled your legs closely and started to rock back and forth.

Once the sun finally touched down to the horizon, sending beautiful oranges and pinks to streak across the sky, you rose again. The darkness felt heavy, as if it attempted to suffocate you in it.

Your heart was already beginning to thunder in your ears but grew worse as the night fell. Your throat was dry, lips on the verge of cracking no matter how many times you wettened them. At this time, you began to wonder through the darkness and explore the new grounds.

Somewhere down the road, something in your gut told you to stop. And you listened. The hairs on the back of your neck rose with the rate of your heartbeat. Your black pupils blown wide to consume any and all light the area might provide. It did little to offer any sight more than five feet in front of you. But you tried to peer through the haze of darkness only to come up empty handed.

Yet, the feeling refused to dissipate. Your hands trembled while clutched close to your chest. You couldn’t tell if this where you were going to die. Was it a predator? A tiger? A leopard?

In the middle of your thoughts, a thundering form dropped down before you. A scream surpasses your lips. Then, nothing.

The youngest of the trio had stalked this lone ooman since it first appeared from the dropship. His energy was craze, wild and barely tamed as he watched in rapture for the perfect moment to pounce. Yet, he came to notice the blinding difference between this one and the few he’s hunted before. He huffed before leaping to the next tree.

Down on the ground, the ooman stopped, tense and petrified. Its scent of terror filled the space around him. His upper mandibles crinkling with disgust underneath his plain biomask.

Something was wrong.

Without the proper time to internal discuss his next actions or the consequences afterwards, the male dropped down from the trees before the ooman. An ear shattering screech sounded from the prey then it was cut short.

The creature dropped lifeless to the jungle’s floor. For a moment, he believed he somehow brought upon its death or maybe one of his hunt brothers got to it first. It’s not unlike Dai’stbaen to swoop in at the last second and take the kill.

When he scanned the trees and surrounding area, Con’tei came up empty handed though. Not a large enough heat signature to be the larger male. His focus returned to the crumpled ooman before him. He toed closer to it then knelt down at its side.

A heartbeat, slowed fluttered. The male reached out and cautiously pushed the ooman onto its back. It wasn’t dead. Now, his curiosity got the better of him. He scooped up the limp body and flung it onto his shoulder. From there, he leapt back into the safety of the trees and began his pathing to camp.

Both his older companions were found preparing their tools for the upcoming hunt of the next day. T’a’yta lounged against a log, a knife and whetstone in hand. The nearing elder sharpened the blade with precision. Dai’stbaen, a rival to Con’tei, was consuming meat of sorts while reading on his gauntlet.

Con’tei landed near the group, not silent enough for T’a’yta. Said Yautja shot him a disapproving glance then did a double take. “Con’tei, the hunt isn’t until tomorrow. What have you done?” T’a’yta scolded without needing to get up from his spot on the ground. Con’tao himself pulled his mandibles tight though they were hidden by his biomask.

“Elder, I may have found something interesting with this one,” he explained and strutted over to the duo. The ooman on his shoulder was simple dropped onto the ground in heap, still not awake. Con’tei found this bizarre. “Look at it. It won’t wake. It even fell asleep when I leaped in front of it.”

T’a’yta gave the male an unamusing look, as if Con’tei was the idiot here. “That’s called fainting. Oomans faint but…” the dust colored Yautja finally climbed to his feet and stalked over to Con’tei and the ooman. “To faint from fear?” A question that hung heavy in the air as the elder attempted to examine anything out of sorts with the prey. He came up empty handed.

The elder huffed and looked at Con’tei. “This-“ a groan brought his moving mandibles to a stop. T’a’yta’s bright eyes snapped down to find the ooman beginning to move, squirming around in their spot. He didn’t move though. He stayed knelt down besides it and watched as it woke up groggily.

Confused, your eyes fluttered open to find the night sky shining down on you. You sat up, clutching at your head for a moment then scanned the area.

A scream tore at your throat. A massive and lumbering form was sitting on its haunches at your side. You scrambled away only to knock into something warm. Your head whipped up to a humanoid creature leaning over you, hands on its hips. Metal covered its face, leaving you only to stare in terror at a blank expression.

Petrified at the two creatures surrounding you, you curled up into a protective ball and cried. Your whole body shook with each sob that echoed back at you. Pathetic, meek but you didn’t care. All you care about in the moment was if this was how you died.

When no harm came to you for the first minute, you timidly pulled your head free and submissively looked at the towering creatures. The orange one, lean and smaller than the other one, still stood where you last saw it. The other one had picked himself and gazed down at you with little care.

“Are you… are you going to hurt me?” For whatever reason you could scrounge up in that shaken brain of yours, you asked them a question. It was stupid in the moment but you hadn’t realize why it would be.

The figure closest to you huffed, glancing at the only other like it that you could see, then shook its large head.

Your whole body jolted at the deep grunts and clicks coming from the larger one. It must be communicating with the one nearest to you. Well, that was your first thought until more of the same sounds, different range voiced from outside the edges of your vision. You accidentally knocked into its shins yet it didn’t react.

From the shadows, this hunkering giant, taller than the dust colored one marched out, hands balled into fists. You were frozen in place. No matter how loud your mind screamed for you to move, you couldn’t.

The newest one, a dark color, possibly a red, seemed to argue with the lighter one. At this time, you decided to give them color coordinating names. Dust, Red, and Orange. At least, you think it was orange. With the lack of light, it was hard to tell. You made do with what was given.

Red growled at Dust and pointed harshly at you, body tense. Dust, on the other hand, stood there with little movement besides its shoulders moving with each breath. When Red realize it wasn’t getting anywhere with Dust, it stomp over to us. You scrambled back and knocked into Orange’s legs again. A minute part of you prayed it would protect you.

A harsh snarl tore from Dust’s throat that had Red stopped in his spot. It clicked in your head who was the leader amongst them. Red whipped around and began to berate to Dust that had to do with you.

In the midst of the commotion, Orange knelt down behind you and patted your head. You yelped but the sound didn’t interfere with the two arguing creatures. It reached towards the metal mask that covered it face and stopped where its mouth would be. A sharpened claw tapped at its mouth area. All you could do was furrow your brows.

The creature finally realize you weren’t following along in its game of charades and called out to the disputing duo. Both whipped their heads at Orange and growled. Orange only huffed and motioned towards you yet speaking in the same language. One you didn’t understand. Dust rolled its eyes before strolling over to the two of you and kneeling a respectful distance away. You stayed semi pressed against Orange, finding little comfort in it.

“Ooman-“ you felt yourself about to faint again but somehow kept it together. “You are not supposed to be here,” it spoke a very deep, vibrating voice that was hard to even understand.

Despite the terror that filled your veins, you timidly looked at it in those bright eyes that nearly glowed in the darkness. “Where, where is here-here?” you sputtered and clutched both hands tightly to your chest.

Dust held up its arm, bent at the elbow, and pressed a button on the metal gauntlet that hugged its forearm. As if out of a sci-fi movie, a hologram floated inches above the gauntlet. It was of a planet or sorts. With its free hand, it pointed at the sphere. “Here. On a planet. Not Earth.” It struggled to say the word ‘earth’ which Orange snickered out. Dust just glared at it.

This had you sitting up straighter and slightly leaning closer to Dust. “What?!” you shouted at the top of your lungs then slapped a hand over your loudmouth. “Sorry, sorry.” You took a deep breath then focused on Dust. “Where am I? And, and how did I get here?” Your voice took a turn towards silence as you tried not to sob your heart out.

Red clicked its mandibles together and gazed at Dust with a harsh look. All Dust did was nothing to Red. “You were an accident. You are not what we hunt. It would be pointless to kill you, not a trophy worthy to take,” it explained nonchalantly. Its body was at ease, eyes partially hooded and each blink slow.

Your head swirled with the new information, chest beginning to heave once more with rapid breaths. Red scoffed and muttered something out loud. Neither creature reacted to it. “Kill me?” That was mainly stuck in your head now. Kill? “What is going on?!” you snapped at them, acting out for a fleeting moment before curling up again and leaning against Orange’s shins without noticing.

The creature before you sighed and shook its bowed head then returned its vision back on you. “We are hunters. You are prey. Though, not worthy prey. We won’t kill you. There must have been a mix-up and they nabbed you instead.”

Dust motioned around him. “This planet is a game reserve where we capture and drop off prey we see as worthy enough to hunt. We hunt said prey. This includes a few ooman as yourself.”

The pieces to the puzzle were finally put together but the order wasn’t something you enjoyed. Especially when it meant you weren’t in your place nor your bed, somewhere not your home. “Wait! Does that mean you’re aliens?” you asked suddenly. Red rolled its eyes and glared at you.

“Yes, primitively,” Dust answered then stood up. “Since we have no reason to hunt you nor can we return you back home, you are now… what that called? Stuck between a rock and a hard place?” Orange began to converse in what must be their language. Dust raised a singular brow at Orange. Red spat out. “Tei does have a point. We are at fault.”

Red’s mandibles flared out with roar as he faced off Dust. You shoved yourself further against Orange for protection at the sight. Orange seemed to snicker and patted your head again. This must be a normal occurrence if Orange was at ease at the sight.

Neither made move or went for the other’s throat. Thankfully. You didn’t know if you would survive the brawl if it had made its way over to you.

A growl echoed from Red’s chest before about-facing and marching away into the darkness. You whimpered and stayed exactly where you were until a dust colored hand entered your vision. “Come along, little ooman. You are now under our supervision due to this accident,” Dust spoke calmly and tugged you to your feet after you took his offer.

“I have not been around a ooman for quite some time. You will have to remind me your dietary requirements.” Dust left your personal space to roost in a spot on the ground and against a fallen log. It picked up a knife and some sort of stone.

You swallowed and licked at your cracking lips. Dietary requirements. These things must eat differently. “Well, um, meat is a good start. Vegetables are good as well. Um… Water, I guess.” It felt strange to list these things to it but if it kept you alive, that’s all that mattered. “But… I do have a question if that’s okay.”

Dust shrugged. Confused, you decided to take your chance. “What are you guys? And what about names?” If you were to be around these aliens, you wanted to know the basics. Like their names.

Orange sprung up from behind you to stand before you and grabbed at your shoulders. The alien whipped its head to look at Dust and sprout out some nonsense by the sounds of it. Dust used a hand to slow down Orange’s speech before letting it continue.

At the end, Dust shook its large head. “He wants to tell you our names but he hasn’t even learned the basics of ooman language,” Dust explained the situation. “As for our names, I guess that is something we can relent since it’s our fault you are here.” He cleared his throat then continued. “I am called T’a’yta. The excited youngling is Con’tei. The grump who had just walked off is Dai’stbaen. Don’t be frightened by him. He’s just grumpy.”

T'a’yta. Con’tei. Dai’stbaen. The first two were easier to remember and hopefully pronounce. But the last one, it threw you into a twist and a growing headache. “Thank you,” you spoke of your appreciation to… T’a’yta. The alien dipped his head.

“For food, Con’tei can retrieve it for you. We have a database on what is safe for oomans on this planet.” God, you hadn’t even thought about that! Different planet meant different foods.

“Lastly, water.” T’a’yta held up a pouch that looked to be made from the skin of an animal to you. “It is clean, I promise. I know how oomans are frail when it comes to bacteria or something along those lines.”

Timidly, you tip-toed your way over to him and took the bag from him. It took you a moment to figure out how to untie the knot around the tip and sip from it. Once finished you handed it back to him then stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“Find a place and rest,” T’a’yta spoke up while he worked on sharpening his knife. You jumped slightly at his words then nodded to yourself.

Through the darkness, you found a comfortable spot a little ways away from the last remaining alien. He paid no attention to you while you sat down and hugged your knees closely. A deep breath filled your lungs but didn’t ease any of the tension that constricted your body. This had become your new life.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader

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he-calls-me-kitten · 7 months

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hiii, i'm not sure if you still take requests but if you aren't, feel free to ignore this😭😭

i'm a big fan of your writings!! i often reread your stories and never get bored of them. hope you're doing great!!

if it's not too much, is it alright if you write about pool sex with lucifer, satan, diavolo, barbatos, and solomon? gender-neutral mc!!<33 thank you :DD

no pressure though! take your time! and it's okay if you can't do it^^

Oh it's absolutely fine! My requests are always open, my answers are just painfully delayed, so apologies in advance :')

Also your idea is *chef's kiss*. Poolside sinning coming right up.

You don't know what started it really. All you remember was you sitting on the edge of the pool on a particularly warm night in Devildom, kicking your legs in the water while he was frolicking further away. Everyone else had left, just the two of you left. What were you waiting for?

Maybe he was aware of your unmoving gaze on him. Or maybe he was staring at you for longer. Wet skin glistening in the moonlight really was a sight to behold. He could barely resist the temptation, who were you to turn down his generous offer?

"You're determined to hold your pride and sit there?" Lucifer said, swimming up to you. You nodded and caressed the water lightly with your fingers. He watched your fingers.

"It's comfy enough from here." You said, lightly splashing his face. "You go ahead and finish your swim."

"Well you've made that rather difficult with your eyes trained on me like a hawk." He smirked. You looked away, suddenly concious of your actions. "Sorry...I didn't mean to-"

"Don't look away now." He didn't even have to touch you. You felt compelled to look at him again, as if he was holding your chin and turning you towards him.

"Let me look at you instead." He swam towards the edge next to you. "And you frolick in the water with me this time." And then you were pulled in. His hands on your bare back and on your thighs keeping them wrapped around his hips.

"You seem... excited." You smirk, palming his crotch through his pants. "Is the water cold or is this my fault?" Lucifer gripped your hips harder and started pulling away your shorts as he whispered into your ear. "Take a guess."

"See it's not as bad as you thought right, Satan?" You chuckled as he dipped into the water and came back out like a beautiful merman out of the ocean. Atleast he was finally having fun.

"It's definitely better without my brothers." He sighed as he let himself float towards you, lying on his back in the water. When he was within arms length, you played with his wet hair, trying to clear the strands from his forehead.

His cheeks flushed slightly. Your sudden touches always had that effect on him. He closed his eyes, trying to stay still for you. But the water kept drifting him away.

You laughed. "Here. Let me help you float in place." You let him sit up a bit, and placing his head on your thigh and putting a leg over his shoulder. It kept him from floating away but it didn't help his situation down under.

Almost involuntary he pressed his lips to your thighs. "That tickles!" You tried to move away but he gripped your thigh and locked it in place. His eyes darkened. You already knew what that means as he sunk his teeth into your sensitive flesh.

"Trust me, you're going to love this." Solomon reassured you reaching out for your hand. The water looked inviting and so did the person inviting you in. You take a deep breath and let him pull you under.

He laughed as you stared at with wide eyes, irridescent bubbles appearing and bursting around his face. The most gorgeous sight you've ever seen. "It's okay, you can breathe in here."

"Is this how the merfolk feel all the time??" You swam in circles around him, excited by how light your body felt and how the water smelled like orchids. "You're right, this really is fun!"

"And now we dance." Solomon breathed in your scent as your face floated inches away from his, his arms holding you tight against his body. You danced until his hand started to wander, squeezing you in places he shouldn't be - too many times to be accidental. Not that you minded.

"Solomon...have you ever kissed underwater?" You ran a finger across his lips and ghosted your mouth over his. His eyes widened, and something grew against your abdomen. For all the teasing he did, he was surprisingly so easy to fluster. But he would have his revenge soon as you begged him to let you breath between kisses.

"This is so refreshing!" Diavolo shook water out of hair, splashing droplets all over you. You chuckled and covered your face. He vaguely reminded you of Cerebus right after a bath. "You simply must come join me, MC!"

"But I'm already having so much fun just watching you." You smiled at him and cupped his face. The light from the pool ripples danced on your body, water drops glistening on your chest. Once he saw it, he couldn't look away.

He climbed out of the water briefly, towering over you. "Please, I insist." Water dripped from wet locks onto your glistening skin, his eyes followed each drop so carefully.

You smiled mischievously and brushed your knee subtly against the growing bulge in swim shorts and opened up your arms. "Alright then. Take me."

He hoisted you with ease and submerged into the water, eager and excited. He pressed his lips against your neck and licked your skin as you threw your head back in surrender. "We should do this more often." He said quietly as you felt him rip your shorts away.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me solomon #obey me satan #obey me diavolo #obey me Lucifer

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rinbowaman · 1 month

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₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ Ɇł₲Ⱨ₮ : PLAYMATE

Series: The Otherside

Warnings: mentions of suicidal ideations, kidnapping, hostage, mentions of cannibalism, yandere theme, toxic love, abuse of authority in a relationship, hints of non-con sexual acts, threats, mentions of murder, corruption, I think that’s it. This series is one of gore and terrible acts so read at your own will. Despite what you’ve read so far, the story is going to get better. Not proofread, sorry. Trying to get this story finished so I can get to work on all the asks/requests in my inbox ❤️

Note: This is all in the POV of Sunghoons y/n. Jake’s y/n is labeled as ‘h/n’ (her name). As explained before at the start of the series, the story features three different y/n’s. In certain POV’s of a y/n, the other two y/n’s will be labeled as h/n. I hope this is not confusing anyone lol.

“You two play nicely.”

Jake presents softly and in a laconic sense as he sits across from Sunghoon, both enjoying the view of you and the lonesome girl across.

It had been months since you found yourself isolated by the deranged man, the one who calls you his ‘darling’ and dressed you in pastel lace and chiffon. Despite knowing his monstrous tendencies of eating human flesh, he never carried out the act of consuming his meals in front of you. At least you could be thankful for that. The thought still terrifies you and since he had kept you imprisoned in the luxury and comfort of his hollow home, you’ve been nothing but disgusted and terrified. Ever since your entrapment you experienced the worst nightmares and never could rekindle the feeling of uninterrupted sleep. It was bad enough that you had trouble doing it, but once you finally drifted off through your hourly sobs, you’d find yourself waking only after one hour of rest. It was, next to everything that happened that night with the cult and your capture, the worst feeling possible. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you’ve prayed that you would fall asleep and never wake back up. This was all complete torture. You’ve tried to escape countless times but it was impossible to do without knowing the code to operate the elevator.

You wondered how your family was dealing with all of this. Since he sealed your knowledge of the world behind these windows, all by eradicating any source that dispelled information such as the news, social media, and even disposing of your phone, you would have no way of knowing the ongoing police search conducted in your name. It would break your heart even more so had you find out that they called off the search after the third month since your disappearance, and no longer actively searched for (Y/n L/n).

You can’t count how many times you’ve cried and felt despair, to the point where you thought of just ending it all. But he made sure that everything possible that would motivate or trigger you to act out on a moment of courage, was all locked away. Not that it would matter, the man kept you under his eye like a hawk, and the only moment of privacy you had was in the shared bedroom when he would tuck you in, and twist the key that secured the lock of the ankle bracelet attached to the bedpost. It confused you greatly, to see a man so sick and infested with demons, enough to crave human flesh, and yet every waking minute of your continued existence, he praised you. He expresses it so oftenly; how much he adores you, loves you, that he keeps you because he wants to be the one to care for you. He tells you that the world is ugly, non-sensible, and filled with distrustful idiots that would choose to do you harm, and reminds you of it through the example of how he met you.

He never told you of how he felt that night. At first, it was a moment of pity that caused him to stab his way through living flesh to ease your fears as he witnessed offhand of what was about to happen. Yet, when he realized that you discovered his digging of corpses to feed his cravings, his intentions changed, and he knew he couldn’t take the risk of leaving you to drag the police and find clues at the gravesite. A single strand of hair would lead the authorities to his door, and despite having a powerful hold on the police department, all thanks to his father, only a certain circle of them could ever know of his secret, thus covering up his tracks and ensuring that they were the only ones assigned to any case that he was ultimately responsible for.

He took you in, not exactly knowing what to do with you. But something started to grow inside. It all started when he saw your diligence in displaying such devoted obedience when he witnessed your struggle in placing the blindfold over your eyes. You were so trusting. For all you know, he could have deceived and finished you off, yet you carried out his demand without even so much as questioning him. The first one to ever place such trust in him, aside from his two friends. It was something Sunghoon wasn’t used to, but grew fond of the feeling of something so feminine and delicate to rely on him. You never strive to be considered lovely or gorgeous, but in his eyes, you were life and breath. When you got caught red handed trying to make your first escape, but was stuck at the elevator, he melted at the sight of your adorable wide eyes. How cute. You were so helpless, so frightened, but you still obeyed. Through your waterfall tears, you still were his good little girl and did what he told you. You did it out of fear for your own life, after seeing his capability, you figured you couldn’t put anything past him. And there was a part of him that knew that but there was a part of him that felt something deeper. As much as you would hate to admit, you are the one that inadvertently sealed your fate.

He did everything to make you comfortable, aside from having his meals in his private lounge after he tucked you into bed. He fed you the finest foods, never once forcing his sickness on to you. After all, he necessarily ever wanted to be sick in the first place, had he been given the choice, he would love to be one that developed a palate for food, the kind that everyone else enjoyed. The pressures of his fathers greed and lust is what turned him at such an early age. Since his old man controlled the city as a major political figure, it authorized destruction in Sunghoon’s emotions and mentality. He’d never forget when his father had committed his first murder, it was his opponent after the election. When his father realized he wasn’t going to win the election fairly, he ensured he was going to do so through dishonorable matters. Sunghoon was only six at the time, yet at such a tender age, he knew of his fathers corruption. Then again, the man never did much to cover it up, even in front of his only son. In fact, as he grew, it nearly seemed that his father enjoyed flaring his dirty deeds. Does anyone have a clue how it felt to be a child growing up with a murderous and selfish father? No…no one knows of his pain. Not even you. Although some day, when the time is right and you are ready, he knows that he will be able to confide in you of where his evils stemmed from. For now, it’s okay for you to think of him as a monster, so long as you stay.

You hands grip the excess material of the fluffed skirt and its laced edge. No one could ever understand how much pain you were in. You present a side eye and view the two men across the room. Quickly, you retract your sights back to the young girl before you as soon as you see Sunghoon staring. He’s always staring.

As the two enjoyed their drinks in their velvet seats, you and the other girl were displayed in front of a large painting, portrayed like small dolls at a small tea table with fine finger foods. This girl, h/n, looked to be as miserable as you. A quick glance over to the one who brought her in, the one named Jake, who Sunghoon explained was a close friend, made it easy to figure out why the girl was uneasy. Like Sunghoon, the man's eyes feasted her. He wasn’t just watching over her—no. Those eyes of his, he was desiring her just as Sunghoon desired you.

You whispered quietly and softly as you topped her tea cup. “How long?”

H/n lifts her head with glazed eyes. She looked at you sympathetically and helplessly. “How long since he took you?”

Noting that the two men were caught up in their little side conversation, h/n dips her finger into the small container of fruit preserves. On her plate, she spells out her answer before scooting it over. Six months.

Your heart sank as you felt the rage of fresh tears forming in your eyes, but withheld the urge to sob, after all, he liked seeing you cry. He constantly claimed that he will forever be responsible for your happiness, pain, and your future.

You leaned in, grabbing the Madeleine cookies off the tray as a way to communicate with her. “Is there anyway for you to escape?”

She shakes her head shamefully. “I tried…he’s made it impossible for me to leave.”

She quickly looks over to ensure that his attention was still towards Sunghoon. “If I do it again…he’ll catch me. I can’t take any more punishment.”

You raise a brow in confusion as you force her to elaborate. “Punishment?”

She nods urgently while the tears escape and drip down her face. “For breaking his rules.”

An electrifying shiver jolts up your spine. Rules?

“What type of punishment?”

She looks at you with pleading eyes. She shakes her head, signaling that she could not speak of it, or maybe she didn’t want to. You nod subtly as you shift your hand over hers, grabbing hold of it to comfort her. “I understand.”

H/n returns the handheld embrace before asking you a question that brought you back to a harrowing memory, one that you’ve tried to forget. “Has he…has Sunghoon…”

She couldn’t find it in her heart to finish her question, but the shift of her eyes traveling to the bedroom door and right back to you was all that was needed for you to understand where she was going with it. You release a deep breath. “Not all the way…not yet.”

You wanted to cry. After the first couple of weeks in being held against your will, Sunghoon inched his way to become closer to you, against your wishes.

It produced countless nights where you screamed and cried, pushing him away whenever he felt bold enough to kiss you. He forced you in his arms and embraced you lovingly, but you were disgusted by the scent of blood on his hands. No matter how many times he lathered them with soap and rinsed away his sins, you could still smell it. It was enough to make you vomit. Your mind races to the night when he laid atop your body, inhaling your kisses as his filthy hands traveled up and down your torso. You shuddered at the memory of it.

When he placed his hand under your nightgown and reached for your panties, you grew desperate and mistakenly revealed your vulnerable truth. “Stop! Please don’t do this! I’m a virgin!”

His eyes widened while his grin grew wide. You really are so pure.

He grew ecstatic, and lavished you with kisses as he remarked how you both were meant to be. Using your virginity as proof that he was the one who was fated to take it away. ‘You’re mine. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do it the right way.’

You snap back into reality and look into h/n’s eyes. “Not yet. He is going to make me marry him…”

Releasing a single tear, you gulp and bit down on your lip, finding strength within yourself. Keeping a composed face, your tears travel down, creating a feature of contradiction exposure. “He’s going to make me marry him, and then he is going to take everything away from me.”

H/n shakes her head as her brows furrow sympathetically. “He already has.”

More tears spewed as you faintly nod. Squinting your eyes, you keep in your whimpers. She was right. He already has taken everything. Sealing your existence away from society, taking you away from your family and friends, and forcing you to live in a tower filled with corpses…yeah, he already has taken everything away from you.

“Has…Jake?”

H/n shakes her head in relief, though you could see there were some reservations. “He’s done awful things…he treats me like a toy, but says he wants to take things step by step, and do it differently than how he used to do it.”

You issue a confused look. “Differently?”

H/n stares into your eyes. A stoic look graces her face as she whispers. “Then how he usually did it with other girls….he says that unlike them, I have meaning.”

“Them?”

She breathes out. “The other girls…Jake used to—“

“H/n, baby girl. Time for us to go, say goodbye to y/n.”

You both snap your heads up as Jake’s voice startles you. You watched as h/n quickly wipes away her tears and stares back down to the tiles floor. Nodding her head, she grips the edge of her denim miniskirt and stands. “What do you say, darling?”

That pet name….

“Thank you for having us. Let’s play again soon, y/n.”

You bite down on your tongue. This was all so sick. A sentimental urge ruptured within you and you quickly stood and grabbed onto h/n’a hand. Seeing your eyes, she returns the hold as you both scream and cry, yearning for each other's comfort as you share the same pain. You knew that Sunghoon would be displeased by your action, much less Jake with h/n, but it didn’t matter. You both did not care, even when they pulled you by the waist as they pry you apart. You fell apart and drop to the floor as Sunghoon gripped your hair while Jake drags H/n away. Her constant cries of your name echoes through the hall, when suddenly it all stops the moment he gets her through the front door. “H/n?…h/n?!”

Kneeling down, Sunghoon tightens his grip on your locks while pulling your head slightly back. Forcing you to face him, you gasp out frightfully as you witness the look of malice in his eyes. They were wide, his pupils shrink, causing him to look psychotic; it was enough to make you heed his warning.

“Don’t ever…EVER, do that again. Understand?”

You nod.

“You belong to me. The only name you will scream out is mine. Don’t test me. I love you, and if I have to make you understand that love, I will.”

“I-I-understand.” You struggle out your words as you felt his grip fisting your strands, growing tighter as you feel the harsh sting of the pull. Wincing in pain, his eyes begin to soften. Placing a kiss to your lips, you pin them shut, refusing to let him enter. He pulls back, all the while keeping his hold on you. “Kiss me. If you wanna keep your mouth shut, I can find another way to get inside you.”

His fangs exposed though the slick grin as he spoke out his poisonous words. Your eyes widen with fear and shock. You knew better than to call his bluff, he would do it, married or not. As he stated before, the act of marriage was a courtesy in your honor, should you give him a reason to not abide by it, he wouldn’t hesitate to take you in an instant.

Maybe you should be grateful.

Taglist: @nshmrarki , @lprww , @baekxo07 , @m7omo@nikstrange@heeshees@moonmoongi@heesitation@heeseung-min @nctsslut @heeseung-min @addictedtohobi @strxwbloody

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razzledazzledo · 2 months

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HELL AIN’T A BAD PLACE TO BE - PART ONE

CultLeader!Geto x Non-Sorcerer!Reader

This is my first fic, holy smokes! It's a bit shite, but I wanted to have a crack at some writing again (with added art made by yours truly!) I've got a number of chapters in the making, and I will continue to pump out the arty farty stuff too. There will eventually be sm*t so 18+ ONLY

Word count: 2k

Contents: angst to ? ;), enemies to ? ;)), geto being an ASS, reader taking it like a CHAMP, deffo no lovin' in this one (or the next few chapters most likely), introductions to the story premise, rusty writing and art lol, may be some inconsistencies in story compared to canon timeline

Warnings: depictions of violence, s*icide and d*ath, Geto's choice of words when describing non-sorcerers (monkey)

MDNI

The trickle of blood from the gripping of your palms makes this a reality - this was not a dream, rather a nightmare that you are unfortunate enough to call reality. The flesh of your inner cheek between your teeth keeps you somewhat grounded as you observe your surroundings. Thumping rings in your ears as you stand motionless on the exterior steps of his territory.

It appears that you have arrived at the gates of Hell.

Eyes trail you, as you trail them back, head unmoving as you do so. Keep your cool. They’re watching you - the followers - and intensely at that. You're sure you heard a snicker too. Fantastic.

You avert your eyes back to what's in front of you as you stiffly take the stairs up, ignoring the glares of others. A cobbled pathway appears that leads to his chambers, or rather, your eventual prison.

Breathe.

It could be worse - well actually this is pretty terrible - but reminding yourself of that may have a placebo effect, which you could use to calm yourself down right now.

You were cursed, but not in the literal sense (unfortunately. At least that would have been a more sane reason to be here than what you’re really here for). It's a sick joke - the first non-sorcerer to be born in your family of sorcerers, and you’re the one to appease him of all people? Yeah, this is terrible. The placebo effect isn’t working.

You have been assigned to that man for protection, so long as he receives funding from your family. It’s a liability that you are unable to use sorcery, thus to protect the family from potential dangers or threats, you stand in this disastrous position. They call it an agreement for the sake of your safety, you call it a public execution. You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of the situation, but you hold out on losing your sanity for a while longer - clutching onto whatever shred of dignity you have left.

It's not even the fear of him that has you wavering. It's the uncertainty of what is to come, the unknown. It’s frightening to the point you have to force a cough out to gain control of the trembling. You’re having to prove yourself more than you ever have by walking into this territory and surviving. You’re used to it - being tossed aside, looked down upon. ‘No cursed energy, and you cannot even see them so what use is there for you?’ It's been a consistent reminder etched into your life. Regardless of the obvious restrictions, you continued to fight and train. But it was never enough, and it never will be. To them, and most certainly to him, you are worthless.

Breathe.

The aroma of bamboo on the sliding door brings you back to reality as you lean on it, palm sweatily resting on the latch. This is it. You squint your eyes shut, pull the door aside, and walk inside, and you can feel it: his aura. It is suffocating, like a thick sludge clogging your airflow and poisoning you in the process. It accelerates your flight response, but you know better: running was never an option. You open your eyes and focus on the floor before tentatively bringing your head up, only to be locked in his sight. Suguru Geto, one of the most feared curse users, is standing in the same room as you.

Passing comments throughout the years provided some insight into the monster in front of you; growing up in a sorcerer household exposed you to the world of curses in a way that few others of your kind had. You knew two things for certain: his cursed technique and his unfathomable hatred for non-sorcerers. It was not unusual to hear about his crimes, which instilled fear throughout Japan. He was cold, calculated, and meticulous with his leadership. Despite this, he was strong, arguably one of the strongest, and having his insurance would ensure your family's protection - you, however, disagree greatly to that perspective.

His gaze penetrates your soul; it's terrifying how unclear his expression is as you stare back silently. He talks after what seems like a lifetime, with a monotone and direct tone.

“I assume you’re the one that has asked for protection?” You swallow dryly, before responding.

“Not myself personally, but my family, yes.” You try to hide your disdain towards the situation, but he clocks the tension behind your words. The corner of his mouth lifts up slightly in what appears to be a smirk.

“Oh? You don't think you need protecting?” He sounds somewhat amused at your response. Great.

You pause before responding honestly “...I don’t.” The smirk from his lips widens and your stomach drops to the floor.

“How pitiful. Not only are you a mere monkey in comparison to us, but a delusional one too. You should know better coming from a family of sorcerers.” He tuts at you before shifting his stance by placing his thumb and index finger under his chin. “Tell me, why has your family come crawling to me for protection if you are so sure of yourself? Entertain me.”

You clench your fists slightly, not wavering your gaze towards him as you ignore his mocking tone. “I have my ways of fighting despite my limitations. They don’t believe me, which is why I’m here. It shouldn’t be their responsibility to protect me, I don’t want to be a burden-”

“And yet here you stand in my territory, abiding by your family's wishes. Delusional and spineless too? What redeeming qualities you have” he interjects sharply, huffing out a laugh before sighing “I suppose it's to be expected from your kind.” Your eye twitches in response to his comment, and he adjusts position again. He takes a seat on the tatami flooring, reclining on his side, holding his head up with one hand while pointing his finger at you with the other, closing his eyes. He speaks almost as if he were bored:

"If you didn't want to be a burden, you should have offed yourself instead of agreeing to this, no? At the very least, you'd have done something to make the world a little better."

His statement clearly reveals the shock on your face. He's not entirely wrong; you've considered doing that more than you'd want to admit. Regardless, you maintain your composure and answer harshly, standing up to your own beliefs and shrugging off any seeds of doubt.

"I want to survive. I want to show that I am capable of holding my own in this disgusting world.”

He looks at you calmly before smiling and opening one eye, pointing to the sky. "Well, if you're so sure that's what you want to do-" His aura shifts to something more sinister "-then survive."

The clap of force against your face and the spring air rushing into your nostrils makes you aware that you've been attacked, your body thrown outdoors into the courtyard. You fall to a shaky landing, still reeling from the event. The warm trickle of blood from your nostril puts things in perspective: Geto has unleashed a cursed spirit for you to combat. That fucker - you should have known something like this would happen.

You let the blood flow down past your lips and drop off your chin while you concentrate. You quickly reach behind you for your weapon, which is securely connected to your back. A four-part staff releases with a crack, chains clattering and angled blades on the ends gleaming in the sun. You swing them about, producing momentum and, at the same time, a barrier between yourself and the invisible force as you plot your fighting strategy. At this stage, you're relying on your senses and predictions of its strikes. You don’t even know what grade this entity is.

“If you die that’s not a problem, I have my ways of finding alternative funds.” Geto casually states as he walks out of his chambers through the hole formed by the propelled attack, arms placed in his sleeves. Some followers gather, clearly alerted by the commotion.

Now is not the time to concentrate on him, you reason as you close your eyes and focus on your senses. You sense it approaching from your right side and whip your beams towards the aura, hearing a solid smack - a decent hit. You turn about and aim for another hit with greater strength, now knowing where it is - it lands again, pushing the aura further away from yourself. If you can maintain this dynamic, you may have the advantage in the fight.

The fight continues in a similar manner, with you sensing the location of the curse and smacking it with your staff. It works initially, but after your last strike, it begins to learn your tactics and responds by redirecting your spears to the side, then landing a direct hit to the stomach, pushing you backwards once more. You stumble to the ground and wince at your injury, coughing up blood, before steadily returning to your combat posture. You slap your spears together, and they form a pole, holding it out in front of you in preparation for their next attack. Despite this, you were unprepared for what was to occur.

An abrupt shift in the fight throws you off-guard. A little girl runs into the battle towards you, completely unaware of the danger, while another girl of similar age gleefully chases her. They rapidly discover they've entered a dangerous zone and freeze behind you, but it's too late to back out. You hear the shrill cries of the followers, and you react.

The cursed spirit hits again, but this time you take a defensive stance, forcing the curse against your weapon. You're grunting from the strain of attempting to keep the spirit at away with your brute power. You shout, temporarily increasing the strength in your arms as you push the monster away from yourself and the children behind you. Once you believe there is enough distance between them and the threat, you immediately reach out to detour the girls away from the area, only to be confronted by Geto. He looms over you, standing between the children and you. He firmly grips your outstretched arm, squeezing your wrist tightly, and looks down at you with underlying rage in his cold, purple irises.

"Don't touch them" His voice is tinged with venom as he continues to look you down, feeling like prey caught in the predator's snare. You freeze in place, and then realise that the curse's aura has vanished; he must have released it. He throws your wrist to the side and turns his back on you, resting his hands on the girls' heads. The blonde girl is sniffling, and the other, brunette, is staring at you with an unreadable expression.

He speaks over your shoulder in a harsh tone, "Manami will accompany you to your chambers. Leave, now.” Before you realise, a lady appears beside you and it startles you. She holds a tablet in hand, and carries an intense blue gaze focused in your direction. She takes one look at you, noticing the twitch in her eye, before turning around and walking away. You assume to follow her, so you carefully disengage your weapon and walk (or rather limp) behind her. You look over your shoulder towards Geto as you leave the vicinity.

"Laure, take the girls to their rooms," he says unusually calmly. A male figure appears next to Geto, with blonde hair and an intense physique. He effortlessly picks up the girls and exits the area in another direction, nodding.

"Everyone else, please stay” He smiles. “It appears that some of you need a reminder on what happens when rules are broken.” You turn a bend, losing sight of the courtyard. All you hear in the coming moments is the spine-chilling screams from that direction, alongside the sensation of multiple monstrous auras, which makes your blood run cold. You turn to face Manami's back as you follow her towards your chambers, silently coming to terms with the reality that your life is in the hands of Suguru Geto from this point forth.

Breathe.

Thanks for the read guys <3 I will draw out readers weapon and some other scenes from this part alongside finishing off the second part - stay tuned and much love

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stillalittlelostngl · 1 year

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Gojo/Reader Sick Day NSFW

So this is a one-shot rn but i’m thinking of making it maybe an interconnected series of them? I toyed w/ the idea of a fully fleshed out story for it but idk. I don’t really have a good idea of the reader’s character to get heavy into a plot like that. One shots where i don’t have to develop a background and distinct character motivations tho? I can do that. Maybe something will come to me and i’ll circle back around to it idk. I’m also working on a geto/reader (honestly haven’t truly decided on the pairing yet - toss up between nanami & geto) that i’m actually really excited about so i feel like i’d be spreading myself a bit thin. If you want a good gojo/reader fic go check out mushmoon12’s - the girls are being fed w/ it omg.

I’ve had the outline of this ready to go since November and have just been sitting on it.

You can’t hold back the mumbled curses as you shift around. Your body unable to get comfortable no matter which way you twist and turn under the mountain of blankets you had piled on top of yourself before falling asleep.

Everything is much too warm and your body aches as you move. Your fever has not gone down it seems.

You had woken earlier that day with a kick drum pounding behind your eyes, your throat scratchy and your skin searing hot to the touch. You weren’t used to feeling anything other than ‘normal’ so the cold you’d developed had you convinced you were at death’s door. Calling in sick from classes left a bad taste in your mouth but the thought of pushing your aching body to get dressed and walk all the way across campus was less and less appealing by the second.

You’re not sure if the text you’d sent to Yaga had been coherent - your mind was much too foggy to concern itself with such details - but after sending it you had promptly rolled back over and cocooned yourself into your bed, hoping to sleep off whatever it was that had you feeling so miserable.

It hadn’t worked, of course, you realize as your mind becomes more and more present. With an irritated huff you work on untangling yourself, the process taking longer as your limbs feel like dead weight as you try to coordinate yourself.

You finally manage to get your head out from beneath the covers, your eyes squinting at the harsh light you don’t recall turning on, and you let out a soft gasp of surprise when the first thing you see after returning to the world of the living is deep cerulean.

“Mornin’”, Satoru’s smile is all teeth and he’s certainly made himself comfortable on your bed as his larger body has somehow taken up most of the space. He’s laid out like he owns the place. You’re not all that sure of when he got there. Or how. You’re certain your door had been locked before you went to bed last night.

You raise a questioning brow to him, “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to see how pathetic you are when you’re sick,” he brings one of his hands to your forehead, feeling the fever on your skin and clicks his tongue, “I didn’t believe Yaga at first but you really are in a bad way, huh? Poor thing.”

You’d roll your eyes at his teasing if you could find the energy for it.

"Fuck off,” is all you can manage to mumble before attempting to shift away from him. Entertaining him when you feel as if you’d been hit with a semi isn’t sounding all that appealing.

"Hey, hey," his hands make quick work of stopping you from moving away from him, "Don't be like that. How are you even more cranky than usual? You must be feeling better.” He pulls your face back to him and his eyes examine you under those long white lashes. He takes in the rosy hue of your cheeks and the glazed over look in your eyes. It’s all looking very familiar to him even if he’d never seen you sick before. You recognize the look in his eyes too.

You blame the sudden dizzy feeling overtaking your brain on the fever.

"I know!” he suddenly releases your face and claps his hands as he arrives at a thought, not paying attention to how the sharp noise causes you to wince slightly "let's play doctor. I'll take real good care of you.”

"Please, I'm surprised you manage to keep yourself alive day to day.”

"Come on,” he insists as his hands begin uncovering the rest of your body from the blankets, ignoring your protests, “It'll be fun. Let me take care of you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you practically hiss as you put up a weak resistance against his wandering hands.

“Not really what I had in mind,” the octave his voice takes causes you to still in your movements. He smiles down at you with that shit eating grin. The one that promises that he’s up to no good. You’ve seen it a million times - usually it’s reserved for when he’s about to do something to annoy Yaga that you and Geto try to talk him out of. More recently, though, he’s been using it when it’s just you two.

A trill goes down your spine, heating your body further at the thought of the good trouble he’s been the cause of recently.

You nearly hiss when he finally manages to uncover the rest of your body. The cool air hitting your overheated skin brings some relief but it’s short lived as his hands begin to travel to where your sleeping top has ridden up, his fingers ghosting along the skin as he toys with the hem.

His eyes drink in the sight of you in that way that makes your stomach do flips before he startings leaning down towards you again, bringing his face closer and closer to your own.

Gojo let's out a soft questioning hum when his lips meet your cheek instead of the intended target. You can see the pout already forming on his lips, upset that you had turned your head from him and denied him. He always pouted when he didn’t get his way. Spoiled brat.

"I could get you sick,” you explain as you bring your hands to the ones that are still playing with the fabric of your top. Tempting as he was, one of you had to be sensible and you knew it was never going to be him.

His pout quickly morphs into another shit eating grin at your explanation. “Oh, you really do care about me. Don’t you?”

You barely get a mumbled ‘shut up’ out before he silences you with a kiss. His lips quickly molding against yours and silencing whatever harsh words you had for him. You can’t help the small moan as his tongue slips against yours.

He shifts above you, caging you in-between his body and the mattress as he moves to pepper sloppy kisses and bites down your neck and collarbone, tasting the slight salty sheen of sweat that coats your skin. Your breath shudders at the feeling of his teeth as he marks you. He’s always eager to leave marks on your skin - you want to hate him for it. You’ve told him so many times to be mindful of where he leaves them, not wanting to suffer the awkward glances that others might send your way should they see them. You’re certain the idea of others seeing evidence of the time the two of you spend together only encourages him to do it more. Bastard.

It’s hard to stay mad at him though. At least when his mouth is moving against your skin like this.

He pulls back from his work for a moment, surely admiring it you think in irritation, before his eyes raise and meet yours. When you offer no further protest he rewards you with a kiss as his hands begin removing what little clothing you had on. His eagerness making quick work of the process. His hands and mouth travel across the expanse of newly exposed skin. His fingers dip between your folds and you feel him smile against your skin. You’re already soaking wet.

"You're not being a very good doctor, you know,” your breath is airy, the feeling of his fingers against you sends a buzz of pleasure throughout your body. Your mind too muddled with desire to think as his other hand moves your thighs further apart to make room for him. Anticipation coiling the spring further and you nearly forget how to breathe properly, "More like a pervert taking advantage.”

"Semantics,” his breath ghosts along your skin as he moves further down your body.

Your hands rush forward to grab his head, stopping him. He stares at you, the question evident on his face and you can’t help but look away in embarrassment.

"I feel gross" and you do. The sweat from your fever doesn’t exactly feel sexy in the moment.

"I'm gunna make a mess of you either way" he says, continuing his descent as his fingers resume their exploration of you. You can’t stop the gasp as he pushes one inside of you, it glides in easily to the first knuckle. Your soft flesh warming him to the bone, "does it really matter?" The feeling of his breath on your clit as his finger slowly begins to pump in a steady rhythm nearly makes you forget every thought you’ve ever had.

"I guess not"

He wastes little time pressing his tongue against you, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head at the overwhelming sensation as he slips another finger into you, stretching you out further. You’re mesmerized by the sight he makes between your thighs, gripping his white hair tightly as you groan at the heat building inside of you. The feeling of your nails raking through his hair against his scalp is enough to have him choking out his own moan. The sound vibrating against your core and sending another wave of pleasure through you.

You can’t help the incoherent babbling of praise and encouragement that falls from your lips when his fingers increase in tempo and his lips lock around your clit. It has you squirming in his hold, trying to meet each thrust of his fingers.

Your desire builds, steadily climbing but your hazy mind recognizes that it’s not enough. You need more.

He lets you pull his head up to yours. You nearly whine as you feel his fingers slip out of you, your heat cleaning around the new emptiness as you bring his lips to yours again. You taste yourself on his lips as your tongue explores his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull his body closer to yours. You feel his length straining against his pants as your grind your hips against his, the friction sending small electric currents of pleasure throughout your body but still not enough.

You force your aching muscles to move and soon enough you find yourself on top of him. In the back of your mind you want to think that you surprised him with the movement but you know that he’s only under you because he allowed it.

He’s smiling up at you, his eyes heavy lidded with desire as his hands come to rest on your hips. He looks nearly delirious and you’re sure he could say the same for you.

“Eager, are you?” his teasing is cut short with a groan as you grind down on him again. The fabric between you doing little to mask the feeling of him against you.

You bite your tongue to prevent your own reply to his stupid remark, opting instead to pull on his waistband and release his dick from the restraint of his pants. You nearly smirk as he lets out a soft hiss at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him, he’s always been so sensitive that even the slightest touch from you can draw noises from him.

Your other hand goes to balance yourself on his chest as you raise your hips. You can’t stop your own noises from spilling from your lips as you lower yourself onto him. His nails sink into your flesh deeper as you take him inside of you inch by inch. He doesn’t bother to quiet the loud moan when you finally have his dick fully inside of you. He never bothers to be quiet.

Your pace starts off steady as you move against him. Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you fight off your own moans at the look of him beneath you. His pale skin is flushed, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open. You raise your hips higher, his length nearly slipping out of your completely before you’re slamming yourself back down onto him. The action drawing noises from both of you, his dick buried so deep inside of you with each movement that it leaves you seeing stars. His fingers digging into your hips leave small indentations as his grip tightens, small curses leaving his lips as he watches you move on him.

"You're supposed to be the one taking care of me and here I am doin all the work," you moan, digging your own nails into the skin of his chest as punishment, "fucking spoiled brat."

"You wanna be spoiled too baby?" He grabs your hips suddenly, taking control as he thrusts up into you. He angles himself just right to hit that sweet spot again and again. The one that makes you sing for him. "Cmon, is this what you wanted? Gotta use your words" he teases, knowing that he's fucking any sense right out of you.

Your grasp of how to coherently string together a sentence in any human language is lost to you. Instead, you find yourself whimpering and throwing any arrangements of syllables together that would get him to just keep doing that. The tips of your ears begin to burn as you feel yourself reaching your peak. His thrusts become harder and deeper as he feels you beginning to clench around him, knowing the signs that you’re close has him chasing his own release.

Gojo’s always been such a visual creature. The sight of you fucking yourself onto him, his length entering your wet heat, your whole body being rocked by his thrusts is nearly enough for him finish right then and there. It isn’t until he feels you spasming over him and his name tumbling out of your mouth like a prayer that the pressure becomes too much. His thrusts become erratic as pulls your body down against his, drawing out your orgasm with each movement. The pressure snaps with one final thrust into you, his warmth filling you to the brim as he releases a strangled cry of your name. He pumps into you a few more times, riding out his wave until there’s nothing left. You can feel his heart hammering away in his chest as you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When you look up at him you find his eyes already trained on you. His pupils are still so blown out that they nearly overtake the entirety of the blue you’ve grown so attached to. His smile isn’t the cocky self-assured one or the shit eating grin that you’ve grown to associate him with. It’s a soft thing that is so unlike him you almost think you’re seeing things. His hand rises to your cheeks and the kiss is soft too. Tender, even, as he holds you against him. He pulls back from you with a content sigh.

“That was really dumb.” you can’t help but say, “you’re going to be really annoying in the next few days when you start to come down with whatever I have.”

He scoffs.

“Please, as if I’d get sick,” he says as if the idea is entirely ludacris. Maybe it is. With a power like his, who knows.

You turn your head down hiding your own soft smile as you bury your face in his neck, breathing in his scent.

It’s followed by a sharp yelp of pain from his as you bite down against the skin.

Just enough to hurt.

Just enough to remind him he’s human too.

____

He does get sick and like predicted is very fucking needy about it and whines to you to take care of him

"You have to take responsibility! You did this to me" "Dumbass I told you you'd get sick! This isn't my responsibility!" "How was I supposed to know this would happen? You should've been smarter and stopped me" "You had your tongue down my throat! Of course this would happen"

you do end up playing nurse. He's so demanding and childish but it's also...kinda cute.

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artist-issues · 2 months

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Could you elaborate on your “you can make your wish come true” =/= Disney’s true message idea? I really like it and want to incorporate the sentiment into my Wish rewrite, but I’m having a hard time finding a solid idea that makes it so different from the aforementioned “believe in yourself and it’ll come true” concept

The idea is not to believe in yourself. Thats super counter-characteristic to Disney heroes. It's all over their merch and songs, but in the actual story, the character isn't usually rewarded for doing things their own way and making it happen. They're also not usually rewarded for chasing their own dreams. They really aren't. Hear me out.

Tiana is not rewarded by the narrative for all her hard work. She's actually scolded by the narrative for being so focused on her dream, and her own way, that she forgets more important things.

Pinocchio, too. The narrative won't let him, or Geppetto, have their dream of Pinocchio being "a real boy." Instead, he has to be brave, truthful, unselfish. Again, the story puts more emphasis on "more important things" than the character's dreams or abilities.

Instead, Disney movies usually reward the character for giving themselves (what they want, what they like, what they dream of) up. For just doing the right thing. More examples and fleshing out here and here.

When I sit down to try and "script doctor" what went wrong with Wish, I change the message from: "You alone have the power to make your wishes come true, so keep trying!" to "Have faith to do what's right, and even more than what you wished for will come true."

Break it down like this:

"Have faith" - Focus on a truth outside of yourself and what you want and what you like, and keep focusing on it no matter the circumstances or how bad you feel. (Think Cinderella "finding the good points" of her stepfamily, or Belle sacrificing her dreams for her father's sake.)

"To do what's right" - This is where faith means taking action. Cinderella doesn't just daydream about things being better, she makes them better for her household by doing her work cheerfully. Aladdin doesn't just finally tell the truth: he gives up his chance at being with Jasmine and sets the Genie free. Tiana doesn't just change her mind about wanting love more than her restaurant; she breaks Facilier's necklace and won't let Naveen marry Charlotte. Faith = action based on that faith: the character focuses on doing what's right. Even and especially when it means giving up their "dreams."

"And even more than what you wished for will come true." - Usually, the characters dreams actually change. They no longer wish for a thing or a set of circumstances, like living in a palace or having their own restaurant. Instead of wanting a thing, they want a Good. Belle goes from wishing for more out of life to getting true love, which is "more out of life,"—and a way better version of "more" than just vague adventures in the "great wide somewhere. Tiana goes from wishing for a restaurant to wanting love. Pinocchio goes from wishing to be a real boy to wishing to be good, for his father. And then it turns out, that's what being "real" meant all along.

See?

The reason the "power to make these wishes come true yourself" is never mentioned is because in most Disney movies, it's not ABOUT you. The main character learns to just do the right thing and stop focusing so much on what they want. They usually sacrifice something, in the name of something bigger than themselves. And when they do that? They're rewarded.

By what? What are they rewarded by? (The narrative, yes, but what does that mean?)

The first Wishing Star Disney ever had come down to reward a main character for doing good was Pinocchio's Blue Fairy. When Pinocchio did the right thing, she literally rewarded him. And the same is true in Princess & the Frog: Tiana finally humbles herself and wishes on a Star, and instantly meets Naveen, who turns out to be better than what she wished for.

The idea is that the power to make your wishes come true is actually NOT in you. The power to make your wishes come true comes from something or someone outside yourself: the Blue Fairy and the Wishing Star represent that. It's like a higher power. Thats exactly what it is.

There's no reason for Tiana to be turned human, or get her restaurant, after she smashes Facilier's necklace. None at all. She broke the thing that could've gotten her to her goal. She gave her goal up. She thought she was choosing to "stay a frog." In fact, she also wasn't even wishing for love on the first place: she humbled herself and wished for her restaurant. Even though she didn't believe in wishing stars. That step of humility was seen and rewarded by a higher power—and the reward wasn't what she would've picked out. But it was exactly what she needed.

And she couldn't have done it herself. In fact, originally, she didn't even wish for the thing she needed, herself, in the first place. The star sent her on a journey to not only get what she needed, but want what she needed. The star did it all. All Tiana did was take one or two faith-based steps that, from her point of view, were actually giving up on her wish.

I hope that clears it up.

#Wish #writing #Disney #wish rewrite #the Princess and the frog #Pinocchio #Disney fanfiction

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mdhwrites · 4 months

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Saw the TOH Finale in Its Entirety.

I think I need a little time away from talking about TOH after it. I have some blogs prepared but I may just let myself breathe a little bit. This isn't me suddenly calling the finale good. No... No. Like For the Future, it was an episode I'd always seen and heard enough to know I wouldn't like it. I'd watched enough of it to know it was bad. I had to watch the Collector's redemption for a different blog though and when that portion was done, I decided to watch the last fifteen minutes I hadn't seen.

And... I could say a lot about it but this picture is all I need to focus on.

This was the end of the series.

Oh yeah, there were six minutes after it that showed them in the future but this was the end of the series. They had just spent 3-4 minutes with epilogue narration, a curtain call saying farewell to everyone and showing they were safe, showing us that the Isles would heal and then it came to this. Luz thinks about how she'll miss magic but grew as a person and how all of this will have made her better. Made her able to face the future and then you get this shot.

That is the end of a story. Period.

But then TOH wastes six more minutes running it back and doing the exact. Same. Thing but worse. Because it doesn't end on the thematic focus of Luz's journey, growth, and what you can take away from it. It ends on self indulgence, takes EVEN LONGER, and on a forced group shot that includes villains and one off characters for some reason. It's much worse composed than this, it's much less meaningful but they decided not to cut it. They decided they couldn't choose one of two endings and so did both.

All while the Collector fails to properly finish his redemption arc or admit that what he'd done was wrong. While Luz dies in a sequence of like five plot beats and reveals that happen in like a minute's time. While the episode is repetitive and contradictory in the most infuriating ways and even when it's looking good, the story boarding and choreography and lack of real creativity is holding it back. All while claiming it's so much better than other media while doing exactly what it's mocking.

In other words... It was indeed a finale to TOH.

But it's a finale that makes me feel worried about being able to kind to it. After all, the creators of this show complained about being shortened. Claimed they had so many ideas. So many they never got to tell. But then... Then they made this finale and spent a fifth of the time on two different endings rather than actually completing and fleshing out their story.

I don't think Dana's name will do anything but turn me away from a project now. Not unless I know she's not a part of the writing team. And... While that may still just be due to the quality of her work, I do not want this thought so fresh in my mind. Not when my analytical roots sadly still stem from an angry part of me and was first birthed out of an angry part of the internet. It doesn't change my opinion but like I said, I think I just need some time and I have some blogs cued to post in the meantime, as well as some Amphibia asks I can get to instead.

See you all next tale. Hopefully I find a new one to get stuck into properly soon.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house

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tokkias · 1 year

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(not so) innocent intentions ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: Lucy was sure that Natsu was paying about as little attention to the conversation as she was, though perhaps for different reasons than her. His arm hung around her shoulder, fingers lazily tracing patterns across the skin of her arm—a tell-tale sign that he was bored and just trying to keep his mind occupied. She wished he would do something else with those fingers to keep himself occupied. nsfw cw

ao3

Whatever conversation Lucy had found herself in had gone in one ear and straight out the other. She was vaguely aware of Levy’s new book, the new bakery around the corner that Erza couldn’t wait to get her hands on, and the story of the last bar Cana got herself kicked out of, but Lucy’s mind was somewhere else entirely.

Ever since she and Natsu started sleeping together, she could hardly bring herself to think about anything else, and it was equal parts erotic and agonizing. All it took was a glimpse of his hands, and suddenly her mind wandered into all the places they had been and all the things they could do to her, and today was no exception.

She was sure that Natsu was paying about as little attention to the conversation as she was, though perhaps for different reasons than her. His arm hung around her shoulder, fingers lazily tracing patterns across the skin of her arm—a tell-tale sign that he was bored and just trying to keep his mind occupied.

She wished he would do something else with those fingers to keep himself occupied.

Clenching her eyes shut, she rubbed her thighs together, hoping for the friction to provide some sort of relief from the heat that was beginning to pool between her thighs. They’d already arrived later than intended because Natsu simply wasn’t able to keep his hands off of her, but now she was beginning to feel that even that wasn’t enough.

She needed him. Bad.

"Lucy?" Levy asked, snapping her mind back to reality, "everything okay?"

"Y-yeah! Just… feeling sick?" It came out more as a question than a statement, earning her a few quizzical looks, but her brain was much more focused on the way her panties stuck to her dripping folds than on the conversation at hand. "I think I just need to go to the bathroom," she told them before excusing herself from the table.

A few confused glances were shot in her direction as her feet took her in the direction of the bathroom stalls, perhaps faster than might have been deemed necessary. As soon as she made it into the stall, she locked the door behind her before running a finger over the damp spot that had begun to form on her panties.

She really couldn’t believe that she was about to do this, but her body was simply aching for some sort of relief, and her brain was too fogged over from the need for pleasure to think straight.

Making herself comfortable on the toilet, Lucy slipped one finger past her panties and into her sopping wet pussy. Pulling her free hand up to her mouth, she stifled a moan at the sensation she had been craving. She pumped her finger in and out of herself before adding another one, letting herself go knuckles-deep in an attempt to get just a fraction of the pleasure Natsu could provide her.

His hands were so much bigger than hers, his fingers longer and thicker, reaching places she never could and stretching her out better than her own. And fuck did he know how to use them. He knew all the right ways to make her sob and squirm, all the right buttons to push to have her crying out in pleasure. There was no way her own hands were going to compare to his, but Lucy was so desperate that she was willing to take anything she could get.

Once she was sure she could hold back her whimpers and moans, Lucy brought her hand down to her chest, where she began to palm at her breast through her shirt, imagining it was Natsu’s hand grabbing at the covered flesh, just like he did when he fucked her. She threw her head back and let her eyes flutter closed, images of Natsu’s cock thrusting in and out of her burned into the back of her eyelids. She bit down on her lip to supress a moan as her thumb brushed over her clit; a lucky save as she found herself occupied by a knock at the stall door.

"O-occupied!" She squeaked.

"It’s me."

The voice on the other side of the door belonged to none other than the stupid man who had gotten her into this situation in the first place.

Pulling her fingers out of herself, Lucy adjusted her panties and hid her dripping digits behind her before rushing over to the door, cracking it open slightly to meet his gaze.

"Natsu," she hissed, "this is the women’s bathroom. You’re not supposed to be in here."

"Yeah well, I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to masturbate in here either," he shrugged, brushing off her reprimands.

A deep flush began to creep onto her cheeks at the realisation that she had just been caught red handed.

"H-how did you-"

Ignoring her question, he pushed the door open, shoving his way inside before closing it behind him and grabbing the hand she was attempting to hide from him. Pulling it up to his lips, he dragged his tongue along her middle two digits, savouring the delicious taste of his Lucy dripping off of them.

If her cheeks were rosy before, she was almost certain she was beet red now.

"Easy," he smirked, "ya got that same smell on you as when you’re on your knees, beggin’ for my cock."

She wanted to scold him for his vulgar language, but she couldn’t deny that it had happened on more than one occasion. Instead, she found herself trying to change the subject and save herself from any of the embarrassment she was feeling.

"N-Natsu! If Erza finds out you’re in here, she’s going to castrate you, and I don’t think either of us wants that!"

He merely shrugged. "It’ll be fine, ‘sides," he leaned in closer to her, his lips grazing against her ear so she could feel the timbre of her voice reverberate through her body, "I thought you could use some help."

That was it. This man was going to be the death of her. He had followed her into the bathroom with the intention of having sex with her, and maybe the craziest part was that she was more than willing to go along with it.

She wanted him; needed him, and in that moment it didn’t matter that they were in the guild bathrooms, their friends waiting for them in the next room over. All that mattered to her was the way his erection was pressing against her through his pants, and how she thought it would be better if it were inside her right now.

"Fine," she conceded, as though he had convinced her rather than her having fantasised about this well before his arrival.

With a grin, Natsu grabbed her hips, pulling her panties down and letting them fall to her ankles before turning her around and bending her over. She stumbled a little from the sudden movement, letting out a squeak as she braced herself against the back wall of the stall.

Unbuckling his belt, Natsu tugged down his pants. Lucy shuddered as she felt the tip of his cock tease her entrance, and in a moment of impatience, she thrust herself back, taking his entire length inside of her with one swift motion, eliciting a pleasured groan from Natsu.

"So needy," he teased with a light spank to her cheeks as he slowly began to move inside of her.

He wasn’t wrong either; she had been so pent up that there was no need for foreplay; her arousal already dripping down the inside of her leg, and his cock was the only cure for her ailment. Each thrust reminded her how inadequate her fingers felt compared to his hot length, stretching her out, filling her up, and hitting deep inside of her. Desperate for more, she began to move herself against him, trying to signal to him that what he was giving her right now was simply not enough.

"Harder," she whined.

In response to her instruction, Natsu grabbed her hips with a bruising grip and thrust himself deep inside of her, rutting into her slick pussy with untethered fervour. Lucy let out a choked cry as she felt him relentlessly hit against her cervix over and over again, his balls slapping against her clit as he fucked her, paying no mind to the fact that they could be caught at any moment. Not that she minded. Her mind was so hazed over with lust and pleasure that she couldn’t think of anything besides how perfectly he fit inside her.

One hand left her hip, snaking around to rest on her clit where he began to rub circles into the sensitive nub.

"Oh god- Natsu-!" She sobbed before his other hand moved to her mouth, covering it with his palm and stifling her pleasured noises.

Her eyes clenched shut with pleasure as he rutted deep inside of her, filling her up and hitting her g-spot with every thrust. Lucy knew that size wasn’t everything, but boy did Natsu have it, and he knew exactly how to use it. With each thrust of his cock and movement of his fingers, she could slowly feel the string attaching her to reality slowly wearing away at his touch.

She whimpered into his hand, signalling her impending undoing. Her hands began to shake, followed by the rest of her body as she began to writhe in pleasure. Just when she thought he couldn’t push her any further, he pressed his fingers even harder against her clit, tipping her over the edge.

In that moment, as waves of ecstasy rolled over her and she felt her legs give out beneath her, her body only held up by Natsu’s strong hand between her thighs.

She didn’t care that they were doing it in a semi-public restroom; she didn’t care that anyone could walk in at any moment. All she cared about was his cock inside her, his hands against her body, and all the pleasure he could give her. She could swear she felt tears roll down her cheeks as he fucked her through the waves of her orgasm.

This. This was what she had been craving. Her own touch didn’t do justice to how good Natsu could make her feel, and having him take her was truly the only way she could find herself satisfied.

And yet she still wanted more, more, more.

Natsu had made her completely insatiable, but with his stamina and sex drive, she didn’t exactly think he minded.

When she finally felt herself come down from her high, Lucy slipped off of his cock, earning a confused whine from Natsu as he lost the feeling of her tight walls clenching around him.

"Sit," she demanded, pointing at the toilet seat.

"Uh, okay," he complied, albeit slightly confused.

Once he was sat down, Lucy pulled her panties off her ankles, shoving them in her cleavage for safekeeping, before she got on her knees and took his length into her hand. She stroked it slowly, testing the waters as he let out a moan at her touch. Lucy dragged her tongue along his length, teasing the tip as she built up slow, methodical strokes with her hand. With a coy smile, she looked up at Natsu, innocently fluttering her lashes as she wrapped her lips around him, taking him down to the back of her throat, then pulling herself up again in a steady rhythm, her eyes never leaving his as she went down on him.

He let out a long groan as he felt his tongue swirl around his cock and the vibrations of her throat as she hummed contently around him. His hands grasped desperately at her hair as he held himself back from bucking into her mouth. She could taste the evidence of her orgasm dripping down his cock, mixing with the bitter taste of the beads of precum forming at the tip.

"Fuck, Lucy," he groaned, "if you keep goin’ like that, I don’t know if I’m gonna last much longer."

Taking his words as encouragement, Lucy increased her pace and brought her free hand up to fondle his balls. She took his length as far as she could go, gagging on it as the tip touched the back of her throat over and over again, drool dripping down her chin.

"Shit-" he panted, throwing his head back as his dick twitched and throbbed in her mouth.

His nails dug into her scalp, and he instinctively thrust into her mouth. The lewd sound of her gagging on his length was enough to tip him over the edge, his cock pulsing as he released a hot stream of cum into her mouth.

She released him from her mouth, panting for air as his semen dripped down her chin, and the mere sight of it was enough to get him hard again. She always looked so cute like that, on her knees between his own, looking slightly bashful as she found herself painted with thick ropes of white. She was the prettiest little thing he had ever seen, and fuck was he lucky to have her. Bringing his hand down to her face, he wiped the cum off her chin with his thumb before putting it in her mouth, letting her lick what she hadn’t already swallowed off of his finger.

While she had thought this was just going to be a quickie to tide her over until they got home, the way he was looking down at her with that lustful expression, and the way his cock was still erect and ready to take her had her not wanting to stop now. It didn't take long for her to find herself in his lap, her lips against his, their fingers tangled in each other's hair as they surrendered completely to each other. Their kiss was hungry, desperate, full of need and desire.

She could feel his erect cock pressing against her skin, still slick with her saliva, and she was overwhelmed with the need to feel him fill her up once again. Pulling away, her gaze met his, and based on the way his eyes were glazed over with lust, she knew that he needed her just as badly as she needed him.

Lining herself up with him, she slowly sank back down on his cock, relishing in the hot sting of his girth stretching her tight pussy. Her head fell onto his shoulder as a whimper left her lips. Feeling his hands rest on her waist, Lucy began to roll her hips, wanting to feel every inch of him inside her.

"Nghh Lucy-" he groaned into her ear, "ya feel so good wrapped around me like this."

Encouraged by his dirty talk, she began to bounce up and down on him, pulling herself up so only his head remained inside of her before slipping back down his shaft and repeating it at a tempo that made Natsu throw his head back and moan.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head off of his shoulder, and captured her lips in another greedy kiss, his tongue exploring every crevice of her mouth and tasting their fluids on her tongue. Once he pulled away, he got a good look at her in all her glory. Her lips were red and swollen from taking him in her mouth, and her face was flushed from all the dirty things they were doing to each other. Her tits bounced up and down with every movement, her damp panties still stuck between them, and he could smell the familiar stench of her arousal on them.

"Lucy?" Erza called out from the other side of the door, "are you in here?"

Panicking, Lucy slammed herself down on his cock and shoved her panties into Natsu’s mouth to stifle the groan she knew he would let out. His eyes widened in surprise at the sudden action, but he didn’t exactly mind it. She felt his dick twitch inside of her as he tasted her juices on the fabric.

"Y-yeah!" Lucy replied, trying to keep her cool.

She has been so turned on by the idea of public sex that the consequences of being caught hadn’t even crossed her mind until Erza had shown up. If she found out just what was happening in that stall, Lucy was sure she would kill the both of them.

"Is everything okay? You’ve been in here a while."

"Yeah I-" She bit down on her lip as Natsu’s hands began to wander, moving up her waist and under her shirt and bra, where he began to grope at her breasts. "I think I might have eaten something funny, is all."

"Do you need me to get Wendy?" Erza asked, with obvious concern growing in her voice.

"No!" Lucy replied, perhaps a little too hastily, "um… I just need a little bit of privacy."

"O-oh! Right, of course," Erza stuttered, "my apologies."

As her footsteps drew further and further away, Lucy almost let herself breathe out a sigh of relief before she heard them stop just short of the exit.

"Did Natsu come in here earlier?" Erza asked, "he said he was going to check on you, but I haven’t seen him since."

"N-no I haven’t seen him," she lied, shooting a death stare at him only to be met with an innocent look back.

"Oh," Erza murmured, "I suppose that’s good; he shouldn’t be going into the women’s restroom after all." The three of them sat in silence, nervously awaiting Erza’s exit before she spoke up again. "Well erm… I hope you feel better soon," she sheepishly added before she finally left the bathroom.

"You are going to get us both killed, I swear," Lucy hissed at Natsu the moment she felt that Erza was out of earshot.

Panties still in his mouth, he only responded with a smirk and a deep thrust up into her.

"Ahh~!" She cried, feeling him hit deep inside.

He gave her no time to regain her bearings before he grabbed her hips, pulling her up, and then slamming her back down onto his cock. Any control she might have had before this was gone as Natsu let himself take hold of her, controlling the tempo in which they moved. Each time he slammed her down was met with a thrust up into her.

With Erza finally gone, Lucy let herself go, whimpering and moaning every time she felt his hips jerk into hers. The bathroom was filled with nothing but the lewd noises of their sex and Lucy’s pleasured cries.

"Na-aaahhh-aaahtsu~" She sobbed, eyes clenched shut, as he pulled her down onto his dick, letting her feel his full length inside of her.

Her hand moved down her abdomen to brush over her clit and she shuddered in pleasure at the sensation. Her breath and hands became shaky as she rubbed circles into it, her body still a little sensitive from her earlier orgasm, and suddenly she felt incredibly thankful for Natsu taking control, as she most certainly would not have been able to keep going in the state that she was in.

Natsu moaned as he felt her tighten around him, and he realised that he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. His moans were muffled by the panties in his mouth, but his hands were much too occupied on her hips, moving her up and down, fucking her on his cock to remove them and let her know.

"Natsu, please," she begged, and that was all the permission he needed to let go inside of her.

With one final thrust, he finished deep within her pussy, filling her up with his thick seed, and the sensation of her insides being painted with his cum was enough to have her feel her own orgasm approaching. Her legs trembled and her hands clamped onto Natsu’s shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as he remained the last thing to keep her tethered to reality.

"Oh god- oh god-" she sobbed as Natsu used the last of his strength to keep fucking her right through her orgasm.

Her body writhed in pure ecstasy, twitching on his length before slumping down against his chest, finally spent from their endeavours. She lifted her chin up and pulled the panties out of his mouth to press a chaste kiss to his lips, this one more innocent than their last, and she felt him smile against hers.

"We should do this again," he murmured against her lips.

"Absolutely not," she retorted, pulling herself back to glare at him. "Did you forget that we almost got caught?"

"I dunno, you seemed like you were pretty into it," he shrugged with a shit eating smirk plastered across his face.

Lucy grumbled slightly, not having it in her to lie and disagree with him, instead lifting herself up and off of his cock, letting it flop against his thigh. She grabbed a few pieces of toilet paper from the roll and passed it over to him to clean himself up before she adjusted her shirt from where it began to ride up.

"You should probably leave first," she observed, "it would look weird if we came out together."

He nodded in acknowledgement as he stood up to pull his pants back up before shuffling past her to the door.

"Thanks for these," he grinned, grabbing the pair of panties she was still holding and shoving them into his pocket before unlocking the door and leaving her alone in the stall.

"Wh- Natsu! Get back here! Give those back!" She hissed at him, but her words fell on deaf ears, leaving her alone in the stall with no panties and his cum still dripping down her thigh.

#nalu #fairy tail #fan fiction #fanfiction #mya writes things

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bipp-bopp-time-to-stop · 2 months

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Girl-

Do you have a writing major or something cause everything you write is amazing. Like I am beyond words I can't even describe how much I love your writing. I wanna eat it. And you're one of the few fic writers where the longer it takes for another story the better it seems to be, so I find myself not minding you taking longer to upload (please take breaks, writers block sucks and it'd be sad if you burned yourself out :< .) I hope you're taking care of yourself

I am immensely flattered by your praise Anon! But no, I do not have a writing major.

In truth, my skill in writing comes from a lot of experience and practice. I've always had a vivid imagination since I was knee height and I've always progressed rather fast in terms of writing skills, so I naturally started to write. It was typical cringe filled, bad writing you'd expect from a child beginning to write their own stories, but it was a start. I've actually been writing fanfic for a long time (since I was thirteen/ fourteen if I had to say when it really turned into fanfiction. Nothing serious or fleshed out like my fics today) but I never posted it because I didn't feel brave enough to. Sadly, I'd always abandon the fics a few chapters in, come back to it, find it to be awful, and pitch it.

Another thing that makes my writing good is that I also read a lot. Like, a lot. Articles, other fanfics, books, and even documents. Reading not only lets me learn new things, but I also get to examine many kinds of writing styles. While having your own writing style is good, it's also nice to be able to deviate from said writing style should the scene call for it (choppy writing style for action scenes, smoother and more descriptive style for moments you want to stand out to the reader, etc).

Another good thing about reading is that you learn what you don't like. You learn what genres you don't like, what tropes you don't like, and- most importantly in my case- what writing styles you don't like. Writing for the enjoyment of others is great but it's more of a chore if you don't like what you're writing. It'll always feel bad and look bad in your eyes.

I could rant on and on about writing, but that's a post for a future date. I've been thinking about making a post about writing tips, tricks, and do's and don'ts.

Also, I am doing my best to take care of myself! And you better be doing the same, Anon!

~Bipp-Bopp

#asks #bippboppanswers #anon ask

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spareparts-vn · 4 months

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Hi! I'm really enjoying Spare Parts. I really appreciate how it has so much heavy drama, but it never feels oppressively dour or meaningless. There's plenty of more comedic or otherwise lighter moments that don't feel out of place, too. Can I ask as a wannabe writer myself, do you have any tips or processes for writing such effective drama?

thank you! i'm very bad at giving writing advice. i've written and deleted this post half a dozen times already. it's pretty hard to lay my thoughts out since my process is so tangled up in my brain's very specific eccentricities. so here's some extremely scattered thoughts that loosely connect to how i write "drama," which in my mind is just an extension of any compelling relationship between characters.

1) "iteration" is my main thing. write a bad draft, then edit it to be better, then edit it to be better, then edit it to be better, then erase the whole thing and write another bad draft that's slightly better, then edit that one to be better, then edit it to be better, then do that 100 more times until you have an epiphany that ties it all together. it's not very efficient but it helps me identify what works and what doesn't so i can hone in on what's interesting to me. in the context of drama, that means i can write out an argument between two characters and ask myself if it hits on anything compelling. if it doesn't, i scrap it, but if there's some feeling there that i want to flesh out, i can restructure it to pivot around that.

2) similar to the previous one, but i try to start broad and narrow my focus over time. taking two characters' relationship as an example, i'll start from the most generic interpretation of how they relate to one another and start adding nuance/complexity over time. i think of it like a life drawing, if you've ever taken a class for that. you want to start with the gesture of the pose first, then start to fill in shapes and values until the foundation is solid. you go around the whole drawing adding details in bits and pieces, rather than focusing on one body part and fleshing it out to completion first. you can slowly choose where to exaggerate shapes or darken shadows to add a little more visual flair to it. in telling a story, these details can often play out and develop through the course of the narrative.

2.5) this is an aside, but during my brief stint in art school, i once turned in a self-portrait for a life drawing assignment that i was really unhappy with. i spent so much time working and reworking it that it looked really smudgy from all the erased lines, but i was too stubborn to start drawing on a new piece of paper. i was very anxious about turning it in for critique, but the professor surprised me by saying that he liked the ethereal quality it had from all the eraser marks. that there was something interesting in how obvious it was that i'd redone it so many times, allowing the evidence of previous attempts to leave traces in the final image. that comment always stuck with me. i think of life, and art by extension, as additive in nature. you can't completely erase the past, so as time moves forward your canvas become more and more dense with information, even if it's been scrubbed away. relationships are the same, which i try to convey when writing my characters. the longer you write them, the more friction and drama will naturally fall out of them. so don't be afraid to start simple, you might surprise yourself with the sort of feelings that appear without you realizing it.

3) i try to imagine a person who would become psychotically obsessed with every possible pairing of characters. what would they find interesting in this dynamic? how could i give them something to chew on? how could i surprise them, or entice them to think about their relationship deeper? in spapa's case, there's obviously a lot of interplay between the most central characters, but i have internal dossiers on every obscure pair of characters that most people won't think about. but that means i'm going to write more about them and flesh them out, so the web grows more complex and interesting. (i've developed a fixation on a secret ship that i'm hungry to explore, but probably won't get the chance to for a while. i'll leave you to speculate on what that is.) every character's growth and experience is shaped by their relationships, so tugging on those threads can reveal things about my characters i hadn't realized before. and sometimes those threads are connected to sticks of dynamite, which explode. and then you get lucy and melanie yelling at each other, even though their first interactions don't really suggest they'd end up there.

4) i'm the type of person who struggle to resist cracking a joke when i think of one, no matter how inappropriate the timing is. i've seen some critique of spapa that jokes occasionally feel misplaced in really serious scenes, but personally, i think they're important! people are complicated and can have multiple modes of thought/expression at once. sometimes when you're in the middle of the biggest sobbing breakdown of your life you'll think something stupid and mundane that snaps you back to reality for a second. sometimes you're having the best day of your life and you'll suddenly remember The Incident and have to just brush it off. i try to reflect those sorts of weird moments in my writing.

5) i lean a lot on my experience in writing fanfic/doing roleplay of characters/ships that i'm interested in. taking the dynamic that's presented in the source material and bending it to suit my interests more, or to flesh out ideas that i want to explore through them as a medium. every now and then it helps to take a step back and assess what parts of my story i've built i feel are most compelling or could use some more attention. what scenes i would write fanfic of, and how i can place them in the story itself or build up to something that paints those scenes in the reader's mind. i just love characters. they're little toys i can make do anything

6) i guess overall my approach is very naturalistic/holistic. i let characters develop themselves and create drama on their own, just by being complicated little animals and thinking about them a lot. then i can take those shapes they make and mold them into something more refined. i try to treat everything as a piece of the whole. let the threads get really tangled up and leave a lot of time for exploring what those knots look like and how you might try to de-tangle them. but meanwhile there's other knots forming too. there's no getting it completely organized but you learn a lot about the mess while trying to pull it apart. the process is essential. the end product should reflect that process in whatever ways feel appropriate. imo

i don't know if Any Of This Shit makes any sense or is helpful. like i said, i've rewritten this several times already, and i've gotta do other stuff today, so hopefully you could pull something useful out of it lmao

#ask #sorry for this mess of a post lmfao #i coast on vibes and mental illness don't be like me

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twothpaste · 1 year

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fassad frustrates me because i feel like he was almost an amazing character, a fantastic addition that would've added even more depth and nuance to a story that's already so rich. and then they just dropped the ball by not elaborating on his identity or motivation, like?? at all?? whatsoever?? on one hand i love him just being an unrepentantly hammy Bad For Badness' Sake kind of villain. but as the player, when chapter 8 rolls around, you are no longer at liberty to read him that way. 'cause he is very much a defected dragon guardian. a figure with all implications of a complicated history, who's supposed to stir conflicted sentiments. but since the game offers no hints, not even breadcrumbs, as to the how or why of it, i'm left feelin' instead like i'm missing some huge piece.

not even askin' for a full exposition dump about locria's heel turn, or flashbacks, or anything that'd eat up a lot of screentime. just literally any dialogue or details that might paint a picture in the player's mind. when did locria become fassad? how do the other magifolk (and kumatora) feel about their absence? why might they have aligned with porky of all people? could the game have called the slightest bit of attention to anything the two of 'em have in common - immortal, bored, harboring a general disdain for human life? does fassad, the most selfish of his kin, care that his actions will lead to his own demise when his needle is pulled? does he have plans to double-cross porky at the last minute? or does he have some nihilistic deathwish, for both himself and the world at large? like. take maybe two or three of these questions. give 'em even just one line of text a piece - it can even be vague as hell! do that, and mother 3 would've been cookin' somethin' with this character. as it is, locria is simply fassad for reasons we will never fathom. which may as well be no reason at all.

there is some cut dialogue involving locria, iirc from a version of the story where the player actually does encounter them as locria. while in most cases i think mother 3 works fine without its cut content (dare i say better - trim the fat, n' all that), i am awfully curious about whatever was goin' on there. makes me wonder if fassad used to be more fleshed out, only to end up a casualty of the game's rushed development. like with the version of locria we got, i suppose we'll never know…

#2thtalks

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wendytestabrat · 4 months

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more disney movies i’ve just tortured myself with

•pocahontas - wow i was not expecting this movie to be THAT bad. the story is flat af and woke for no reason bc disney felt like they had to make a native american princess without fleshing her out as a character. also there was 0 chemistry between her and john smith dhsjsjks. also i hate how disney movies always have to have an unecessary animal sidekick that takes up 80% of the screen time. that racoon was annoying af.

•lion king - this is a RLLY good movie ngl i get why everyone says it’s the best disney movie. it’s still overtated af tho and everyone acts like it’s the best animated movie of all time when it aint. never as a little kid was i willingly like “i wanna watch lion king!1!1!” LOL. but yeah this movie gets everything right that makes for a good film, there’s a clear hero’s journey and a facedown between the protagonist and villain.

•101 dalmations - this movie is actually rlly good and surprised me bc i was expecting it to be lame. cruella de vil is a QUEEN.

•the little mermaid - yeah this is def one of the better disney princess movies. i’ve already seen this movie 57389292 times but i had to watch it again to look back on it in retrospect

•mulan - this movie is rlly good but prob not as good as the little mermaid, beauty and the beast, & aladdin. i mean this came out in 1998 while those movies were in the early 90s so u can tell there was a bit of decline here for disney especially after pocahontshit. “reflection” SLAPS tho.

•cinderella 3: a twist in time - ima flat out say it, this movie is a MASTERPIECE and prob better than the original cinderella. cinderella’s character is actually interesting here and they give her something to do rather than singing to a bunch of birds and marrying a prince she’d just met a day ago like in the first movie bc she’s one of the lamest disney princesses, but here she’s fully fleshed out.

•lion king 2: simba’s pride - this movie was absolute garbage and boring af and a total downgrade from the first. like the villain lions and their expressions were way too exaggerated and over the top like BITCH WE GET IT they’re the bad guys lol. also simba was unlikable and racist to lions with black manes smh. timon carried the whole thing (which he did in the first movie too)

this binge was pretty decent for the most part (prob bc most of them were from the renaissance era) and this selection of movies weren’t too horrible, but i still don’t know how much longer i can keep suffering from this torment so let’s see how many more of these torturous films i can crank out before i die of cringe lol

also i feel like matt & trey are secret disney stans lol

#disney #walt disney #cinderella 3 a twist in time #cinderella #cinderella 3 #the little mermaid #101 dalmations #pocahontas #lion king #lion king 2 #mulan

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mrbigbrother · 1 year

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The Black Cat (1934) an early horror classic with a dark revenge storyline.

Edgar Allan Poe may never be truly adapted to the screen due to the nature of his work. The Black Cat is a story of a diseased man with an intense and all consuming horror of cats. And that is all that makes it into universals first of only two attempts to adapt Poe in some form.

Bela Lugosi plays (Dr. Werdegast) the closest thing to a hero that he was ever allowed to. It shows that he was capable of playing characters that weren't always evil or demented. At least for a little while until the Dr. finally gets his revenge. We can see that there is a decent man who would still not see the young couple be mixed up in his game, either out of kindness, or out of worry that they could interfere. "where the soul is slowly killed." says everything we need to know, and there is no one living or dead actor that could have played this character better. There is something truly sinister in the performance, about his desire for revenge that led him to doing something to Poelzig that is poetic and deserved, but equally disturbing and gruesome. I also enjoyed The Raven (1935) that gave Lugosi the chance to go further with this sinister performance. In that film, I like to think that maybe it was a what if Werdegast survived, but after torturing his worst enemy to death, he became addicted to it. Now that would make for a fine fan edit.

'The skinning scene effectively uses the power of suggestion to convey the horrible deed with shadows, and somehow that makes it more shocking. Horror isn't always seen, but it can always be felt. I don't need to show you a man being skinned alive to scare you; If the characters are strong enough, it only takes a good director to use the power of suggestion to get under peoples skin (pun intended.)

That's the beauty of horror fiction, as it is an exploration of the feeling that pushes our minds into new territories to meditate on. Is that not what Poe did? Just as Poe was an early pioneer of the genre in his time, so was early horror cinema in the 30s.

I wish that this film was longer and had more to it than a little more than an hour runtime. Werdegast's fear of cats doesn't really play much into the plot save for a few moments. It could suggest that the inuman torture he lived through as a P.O.W. involved cats in some way maybe. That and the fact that his daughter was alive with Poelzig, didn't add any real stakes to the story like it should have, other than showing the cruelty and madness that both men share for each other. The production is nothing shy of what was as good a film that was being made at the time. Every shot is a dreadful and haunting image of this pleasure palace built on war scorned land that tells just as much of the story. The music isn't bad; overbearing at times, but can be striking in other sequences. Performances that are not only career highlights, but do stand tall. These are truly fleshed out and ghastly men stalmated in their game of death, that I have no problem believing has lasted for decades.

Boris Karloff plays maybe his most menacing and inhumanly evil character ever; and yet Poelzig is as mortal as we. Not a man sewed together from body parts, or a thousand year old mummy who woke up and went for a little walk. nope. Poelzig is just a man that is as soul dead as Werdegast from his time in the war. Only he is a satanic priest of his own coven who has guests over for rituals and sacrifices of beautiful women who can't resist his charms. Oh and he tends to keep them on display as well...The satanic elements not coming off as over the top or campy like other works about satanic cults. It's just an element to his character. Which satanism is more about worship of the self rather than the devil. And I could see Poelzig as being so vane to sacrifice people to himself as he fancies himself his own dark lord. Boris had a screen presence that was and is still unmatched. He was able to generate such a real tangible menace without speaking a word. And this was one of the first films that allowed him to speak dialogue, and that gave him the opportunity to show how soft and hypnotizing his voice was. When he speaks, we listen. When he is silent, we feel his very auro that echoes despite being without a soul; that people are just objects at his disposal.

The Black Cat (1934) is a truly effective horror film that realizes its horror through great characters and the legendary performances behind them. It is a trip to the darkest depths that a man's soul is capable of descending to. One consumed by the evil of his actions and only able to find peace when others are suffering; and the other consumed by a hatred that slowly killed his very own soul, and has come all this way to lay about 15 years worth of wraith upon him.

It is a great film, but I have to admit that it isn't a very good adaptation of Poe. And I don't blame it for that. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be. I see how the story has influenced many elements of the screenplay. I also have to say, that a remake wouldn't be a bad idea here if universal decides to do so. I doubt it would happen; It didn't have mainstream appeal then, and it doesn't now. But I would love to see some talented filmmakers explore the ideas and characters further. Robert Eggers comes to mind; he would understand, and would go to great pain staking lengths to achieve the same surreal malice, that universal achieved almost 90 years ago.

#the black cat #the black cat 1934 #boris karloff #bela lugosi #edger allen poe #satanic

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pricescigar · 1 year

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A life for A life

Summary: After Elvira attempted her life, she knew that the biggest plague overtaking her life had to get rid of. Her own flesh and blood of her father. Dietrich

Tw: Attempted Suicide, mentions of blood, sharp weapons and abuse

⚠️ THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING, BEFORE YOU PROCEED ⚠️

Today was her Sixteenth Birthday, Elvira felt no form of excitement at all. She got told numerous times at school that Sixteen was a big age, she needed to step up and act her age more. Luckily that never seemed to be a problem for her, she simply nodded and pushed on without another word. It was the last day that she would be in Germany also, before she would be soon sent away to Russia to be trained by Perseus and his henchmen. That's what scared her the most out of all of it. Having to fulfil a destiny that belonged to her father. A destiny she didn't want. Every Birthday was the same, the presents felt… Meaningless no life to them at all, of all the things she wanted she got the opposite. To her father he would always say to her:

"You don't need those things, these are far more important."

Her nerves were taking over her mind. Birthdays no longer felt exciting for her at all. What was a Birthday anyway? What is Christmas? What were all of these things Elvira couldn't experience like others could, what was it even like to have a happy family.

Sure her godfather made it better by spoiling her with many gifts on her Birthday, that made the day a little better. But truly... All she wanted was her fathers love, to love her and to accept her for who she is. And to not be a mini image of him, but that's what she'll always be.

Her hopes of escaping were dwindling by the minute, three years she planned to try and get rid of her father. Three years she had been planning all of this running away didn't exactly help, the stress of school and her fathers expectations was draining the life out of her.

Elvira expressed her troubles to her father, even if she knew what he would always say to her and what he'd do after. And so she stopped telling him things. It was another hard day at school today for Elvira despite it being her birthday, Dietrich remained locked away in his office.

She felt alone in all of this, as much as she wanted to cry out for help. Elvira was so scared to do so, with fear that no one would believe her and that she would get into more trouble as a result of that. Despite all of that Elvira found ways to cope, unhealthy ways to be exact. But it made the pain go away for a while, but it all got too much for her in the end. Slowly feeling her world falling down before her, time didn't feel real to her anymore, no amount of pain could match what she was feeling. The numerous bruises appearing on her body everyday, minor scratches here and there or a slap to the face:

"You're not good enough for me."

Another bad day at school and that was the breaking point for her, she still couldn't get over the fact that Felix broke up with her too. She knew that it wasn't her fault, as he said so himself:

"Your vater scares me, I don't want to get hurt. And I don't want you to get hurt either."

If only he knew the full story… Elvira heard Dietrich locking himself away in his office, she found herself in the Kitchen and took the Kitchen knife before heading upstairs and into her Bedroom. Her footsteps were cushions and silent, making sure she didn't step on any creaks so her father would be left undisturbed. Just how he liked it.

Taking her bag off her shoulders and leaving it on the floor gently, she took a deep breath before going to the bathroom keeping her knife in hand.

"Vater?" Elvira called out to her father, there wasn't a reply for a couple of seconds before she heard a sigh.

"What? I'm busy. Make it quick. " The frustrated Voice of Dietrich was heard from his office.

"I'm going to take a bath… Then I'll prepare dinner. Okay?" Elvira told a simple lie.

"Sure, whatever. I don't care." Dietrich replied.

Elvira locked herself in the bathroom, leaving the knife aside on the bathtub. Taking off her clothes she was wearing, dumping them on the floor. Finding herself at the mirror and staring at her body in disgust, the existing scars Dietrich gave her made her feel disgusted to be in her own body. No matter how many scars she revived or even gave herself, the reminiscence and reminder of her father was still there. She began to run the bath, getting everything ready. The water was hot, she stepped into it and relaxed her body. Elvira felt the tears falling down her eyes, he made her do this.

With every split of her piercing skin she didn't even flinch in pain, watching the blood run down her arms. The more scars she created, the blood worsened. Her left arm was done, and now it was for her right arm. The water began to slowly become stained with her own blood, the final cut was the breaking point. Elvira left the knife aside, feeling herself become weak.

Time has passed and Dietrich noticed Elvira was in the bath for quite some time now, thirty minutes… She never took that long. He got off his chair and walked out of his office, approaching the bathroom door. Trying to open it, but alas it was locked.

"Elvira! Elvira Wolff, you open this door right now!" Dietrich's voice boomed, when there was no reply he was already losing his patience. After using his shoulder to break the door open numerous times, after stumbling inside he regained his balance. The first thing he laid his eyes on was Elvira.

Elvira's body was in a bath of her own blood, the knife she had used was on the floor. She didn't seem to be moving, it took Dietrich a second to realise what she had done. He grabbed a few towle's quickly and pulled her body out of the bath, being mindful of her arms that were consistently bleeding. He wrapped two individual ones around her arms to try and stop the bleeding. Wrapping another one around her body, he gently lifted her up.

"You're gonna be okay." Dietrich's voice was shaken, carrying her body out of the house and over to the car. The towels around her arms were already beginning to stain, laying the towel on the back of the seats laying her body down. Closing the car door, he went into the driver's seat and drove her to the Hospital.

Arriving at the Hospital all seemed to be a blur to Deitrich, he watched the nurses take Elvira without another world rushing her while a Doctor followed them. It's been two hours since then, he waited in the waiting rooms. Not even seeing the Doctor yet wasn't a good sign either, when all seemed to be at loss the door finally opened. The doctor arrived, his cost was stained with blood.

"Herr Wolff?" The Doctor spoke, Dietrich remained sitting down and hid eyes focused on the Doctor. An old friend of his Spielmann

"How is she?" Deitrich simply asked him.

"...Alive." Spielmann said, he sighed with relief. "Alive, but she'll pull through… We're finishing off one last blood transfusion with all the blood she lost. Do you want to see her?" He asked, Dietrich nodded and the two began to walk down the hall. It was silent, once they got into the room Spielmann closed the door behind him.

"We were close to losing her. All day. Don't ask me why, or how she pulled through. I have to ask… What made your daughter do this?" He grabbed a clipboard and his pen.

"Ever since Mia died, it affected her a lot. She witnessed the accident. And with School was far too much for her… I didn't realise she would try to do this on her own birthday. It's my fault I worked far too hard and I wasn't paying attention to what was going on. I wasn't paying attention to her." Dietrich looked at him, if there was one thing… He was good at making up sob stories. Which is why everyone took his side.

"I want her to be interned, it is clear she's not safe in the environment. And I believe they can give her the best medical care possible." Spielmann was writing the notes down.

"Nein really, she hates unfamiliar surroundings. Whatever it takes, I will do anything to make her feel better. Believe me. Even if I have to take time off work to do so." Dietrich assured, Spielmann had an unsure look but he guided him to where Elvira was resting.

"Hm…" Spielmann stared at him for a couple of seconds before simply nodding. "Alright then, if you say so…" He soon left the room.

Elvira was out cold for the remaining day, the next day in the early morning. She slowly woke up, feeling her arms screaming in pain. The dare on the Calendar showed the 1st of December. The medication had worn off, she winced a little in pain. Her head soon turned and saw her father staring out of the window.

Dietrich was staring out of the window before he turned hearing Elvira, he simply kept his eyes on her saying nothing to her. What did he have to say to her at this point? And the way he stared at her… She knew what was coming.

"Elvira Wolff." His voice was dark.

It didn't work. Elvira felt all of the emotions running to her at once, she remained calm and composed. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him. After what seemed to be forever, Elvira finally got discharged from the Hospital.

"You're weak, you pulled a weak act. That's what weak people do, you're a Wolff. So start acting like one." Dietrich shoved her into the car, before going over to the Driver's seat. "You disappoint me."

Elvira pulled the seat belt over her, despite Spielmann strongly advising she shouldn't strain her arms. But Dietrich ignored his words the moment they got out of the Hospital. She didn't say anything to her father, watching him get into the car before they finally drove off..

Elvira let Dietrich lecture her all the way home, taking all of his words in. Either nodding in agreement or giving him short replies, she wasn't in the right mind to even think about anything. All she knew was that… The time was right, Elvira needed to end all of this. Once and for all. Tonight.

#call of duty cold war #call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #cod cold war #black ops #cod fanfic #csll of duty fanfic #dietrich wolff #elvira wolff #cod oc #oc #ocs

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