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#Double Bladed au
funshinebf · 29 days
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hello trigun fandom. vashwood Aristocats au. that is all
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discordiansamba · 5 months
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I love all the little hints in the Prince Keith au stuff you've posted so far that Keith can, on some level, Tell That Something Is Off (having a human face before he'd ever encountered humans, feeling a strong draw to Earth he can't explain, etc) and now I'm wondering, what would happen if he met Krolia?
Excellent question!
I think he definitely feels an odd sort of draw towards Krolia, that he can't really explain. He gets an odd sense of deja vu the first time he crosses paths with her, almost like he should know her. They've obviously got no connection, but he can't really shake the feeling.
He just sort of files it away with all of the other weird stuff that's always felt sort of out of place about him. Most of the time he chalks it up to being caused by the corruption he's carried in him since birth, even though he's also just as sure that definitely doesn't explain everything. But thinking about it has never really gotten anywhere, so most of the time he just ignores it.
He'll eventually learn the truth, but that just makes things a weird sort of awkward. What kind of relationship is he supposed to have with a women who was supposed to be his mother in this universe, but wasn't? It's not like she knows him. She's Blade of Marmora anyways, and he's the son of the Galra Emperor, even if he was never meant to be.
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mothdotz · 1 year
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We ball
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victorluvsalice · 2 months
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AU Thursday: Valicer In The Dark -- Duskwall Slang
Since we did a VITD lookbook yesterday, I figured we might as well keep the train going today and talk a little bit about some of the worldbuilding I've done for the Valicer In The Dark version of Duskwall (the main setting of Blades In The Dark). Specifically, I've decided to share the short list of slang that I've come up with for people to use! Because that's always fun, right? :) The first entry on this list is taken from the book itself (page 42, specifically) and adapted a little bit, but all the rest are purely my own invention:
-->“Flashing a/their/your Coin” and variants – making an ostentatious display of wealth, to the disgust of everyone around them (the term "Coin" itself is in fact slang for a large sum of money, taken from the days when the Imperial treasury would actually mint large solid gold coins intended to cover major transactions; most people these days rely on small silver pieces called "slugs"). Example: “You spent all that money on THAT outfit? Really flashing your Coin, huh?”
-->“Moving to Six Towers” – indicates that the person said to be moving was previously rich and important, but has fallen on extremely hard times and is on the verge of ruin (referencing the fact that Six Towers USED to be one of the richest neighborhoods in the city, but has turned into a bit of a slum with most of the nobility previously living there moving into Brightstone). Example: “The Everglots’ leviathan ship hasn’t had a good haul in six months. Think they’ll be moving to Six Towers soon.”
-->“Scavenging in the Lost District” – indicates that the person said to be scavenging is taking an INCREDIBLE risk in the hopes of getting a high reward (due to the Lost District being an abandoned neighborhood outside the lightning barrier keeping the city safe and guarded by the Spirit Wardens...but also having many lost riches within its bounds). Example: “You want to rob Lord Mayor Powerwallet? Talk about scavenging in the Lost District!”
-->“Living Coin to Coin” – living paycheck to paycheck, as the average weekly wage in Duskwall is equivalent to a Coin’s worth of money. Example: “Poor old Tom – what with his sick mother and five children needing feeding, he’s living Coin to Coin.”
-->“Only good for mushrooms” – indicates that the thing being talked about is absolute shit. Example: “Don’t order the ‘special ale’ at the Withered Talon, it’s only good for mushrooms.”
-->“You want to call the crows?” – equivalent of “You want to get us killed?” in response to a risky course of action (referencing the Deathseeker crows that find corpses for the Spirit Wardens). Example: “You want to FIGHT Lord Mayor Powerwallet’s bodyguards? You want to call the crows?!”
-->“Barrowcleft approved” – indicates the item in question is homemade but of very high quality (Barrowcleft being a poor, rural neighborhood with one of the best, and fairest, markets in the city). Example – “You carved this yourself? Why, this is Barrowcleft approved work and no mistake!”
-->“Dust Day fare” – an extremely meager meal made from poor-quality ingredients, referencing the popular nickname for the fifth day of the week from Charhollow, which itself references the fact that poor people’s food stores are the thinnest on this day. Example – “Canal water soup with potato peelings. This is Dust Day fare, all right.”
-->“Crit Six/rolled a crit six” – means that something is exceedingly good, or that something that you have done has succeeded beyond your wildest dreams; references the most popular dice game in Duskwall, where rolling double sixes is an automatic win. Example – “I went to open the safe, and I rolled a crit six – the door practically came off in my hands!”
-->“Welcher” – a term for someone who hires a criminal or crew for a job, and then not only refuses to pay them, but actively tries to murder them (directly or otherwise) to avoid doing so. Only one of the highest leaders of the most well-known crews may declare someone a Welcher, and then only after receiving sufficient proof, as the term is a death sentence – the scoundrels of Duskwall do not take kindly to their clients trying to stiff them, in both senses of the word. Example: “All right, I’ve seen enough – I’m ready to declare that Lord E.A. Bethesda is a Welcher. Hope he’s prepared for every scoundrel in the city coming for his ass...”
Further updates to come if and when I think of more stuff! Which I probably will, as this is fun. :)
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The rescue bots and rescue humans visit the tfp mainland base once and they instantly know the gossip. The megop? Yes. The pharma x Ratchet waiting to happen? Yeppers! The TICs having came to Earth? Yes! Little glimpses of how Optimus is a little more fun than he lets on? Completely. More of how Blades is down bad for Bumblebee? Correct. The baby children that the autobots have half adopted? Mmhm!
sure they might be made aware of some of the serious stuff like how the autobots are pretty much starving, in constant danger, and y'know in a goddamn war. That the Decepticons if they truly tried can not only hurt them but destroy everything they could've ever loved, and tbh how dangerous the autobots themselves are. The fact that Optimus and Bumblebee, these bots they've known for quite a while at this point and trust completely, have killed and destroyed and made unethical decisions.
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A question for luminous beings. What color are the lightsabers? Or more specifically, when Beatrice and later Lilith leave the Inquisitors and join Ava at the yet to be written about point in time, do they keep their red blades? Do they get new crystals? Do they purify the ones they already have? Or do they just go "fuck it with the force bullshit" and not have a lightsaber at all?
oh for sure i can talk about the lightsabers.
Ava’s is yellow, which is established already. & plans are for it to stay that way.
Beatrice’s lightsaber was blue when she was a Jedi Padawan, before the Inquisition took her, and once she leaves she will HAVE to go and locate a new Kyber crystal because, in order to turn them red, you have to corrupt them (& this, I understand, cannot be reversed).
at some point in Luminous Beings she’ll go to to Ilum, (with Ava) forge a new lightsaber emitter, and find a new crystal (or, rather, hope that one calls to her black heart).
when she does find her new crystal, after being slapped over the head with mystical Force-therapy, it’ll be blue again. 
Lilith is more difficult. for backstory reasons her lightsaber has always been red. when she picked it up the first time and switched it on it was red. 
so, no, regardless of what happens in the story it will not change colour, but she also (at least in the (probably) canon-divergent au Orbital Mechanics) doesn’t use it. or, rather, for backstory reasons she doesn’t NEED a lightsaber to be incredibly dangerous. but she’ll always have one, and it will always be red. 
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thatdammchickennugget · 5 months
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Just My Type
pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader
tags - hockey player and figure skater au
warnings - none I think
wordcount - 1.1k
a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested
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The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.
Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.
Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.
After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.
Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.
“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.
“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”
“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.
Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.
The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?
You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.
Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.
“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.
“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.
You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.
“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”
Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.
“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.
“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.
Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.
“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”
“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.
“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”
“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”
The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.
“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.
He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”
“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.
Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.
By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.
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bunnliix · 10 days
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Disobedience - Matz x Reader ft. San
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The full version of what you can find here!
I technically have more of this to write, but like I kinda lost motivation at the end, so maybe a part two might happen?
Inspo for this is my favorite moot @herarcadewasteland who gave me these amazing ideas for this insane smut.
Pairing: Seonghwa, Hongjoong, & San x reader, Seonghwa x Reader x Hongjoong Summary: You just wanted some attention from your boyfriends. But you went a step too far, and now you're in for it. WC: 1.8k AU: Idol AU Genre: SMUT warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, brat!reader, Hard doms! Matz and San, punishment, cockwarming, degredation, dumbification, restraints (handcuffs), collar and leash, reader gets ignored, tears and crying, edging, voyeurism, reader is a big brat and gets punished for it, hair pulling, reader gets stepped on Nets: @newworldnet Tags: @herarcadewasteland @mingisdoll @bethelighthalazia
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You always knew that pissing off either of your boyfriends was never the way to go. It only landed you in huge trouble that left you bruised and sore for days afterwards, but you never learned, always doing it over again. Seonghwa had been practicing a new set of choreographies by himself, as he needed some extra practice, but you wanted his attention, since all of the other boys were busy, including your Joongie. So you tried your best to get him to take a break from practice, even tackling the taller man as he sat on the ground watching a playback of his latest attempt. 
That was your mistake, and the last straw for your oldest boyfriend. He growled, sending a shiver up your spine, before he grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him. You sprawled out onto the wood floor, slightly dazed as your hair was still being gripped tightly by your boyfriend. He doesn’t say a word to you, making you realize you’ve fucked up. He pulled you up with him, his hand moving to grab your wrist as he pulled you out of the room, as you almost trip over your own feet trying to keep up. You knew at this point, you were getting punished and not by Hwa, but by Mommy and Joong. You gulped as the reality set in, but you were determined to get what you wanted, attention from your boyfriend, so you doubled down on what you were going to do and say when Seonghwa brought you to your other boyfriend’s studio. 
Without knocking on the door, he pushed it open, startling your other boyfriend. Hongjoong took off his headphones, turning to look at the two of you walking in - well Seonghwa walking in and you being dragged behind him. You were thrown to the floor as Seonghwa pushed you down onto your hands and knees, a foot in between your shoulder blades to keep you there. “This lil brat decided to distract me from practice and then tackle me. All because she couldn’t be patient and wait for me to be done so she could get attention.” Seonghwa said, barely opening his mouth in order to get the words out.
Hongjoong quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, she did that, did she? Well, princess, you’re really trying to push our fucking buttons today? First you annoy Hwa enough to make him drag you here, which then makes me have to focus on you, instead of my work that I have to do. All for the sake of a little attention, hmm?” He looked down at you, his stare reminding you of the time he couldn’t find the camera at the MAMA awards, and it sent shivers down your spine, knowing you were really in trouble this time.
But no matter what the smart option would be, you decide to open your mouth and say the one thing that would get you in trouble. “Well I wouldn’t have to do any of those things if either of you would fucking pay attention to me!?” You half yelled at the two, staring Hongjoong directly in the eye.
His glare intensified, raising an eyebrow at your words. “Come here. Now.” He said, his tone betraying nothing.
You expected Seonghwa to lift his foot so you could get up and walk towards your other boyfriend. But he didn’t, keeping his foot firmly on your back. 
“Crawl. To. Him. Pet.” Seonghwa said, making sure you heard each word. 
You scoffed, turning to look up at him. “How about no. Now let me up.” You retorted.
The captain got out of his chair, heading for one of the shelves in his studio, before grabbing a leash and collar out of one of the baskets in those shelves. He brought it back over to the two of you, putting the collar on you and then attaching the leash, before he leaned back in his chair. 
“Now pet, either you crawl to me on your own, or I’ll do it for you, hmm? And don’t think about getting up. I’ll just pull you back down, and Hwa will make sure you stay down.” Hongjoong laid out your options.
You decided to test your luck and try to get up, only for Seonghwa to press you back down onto your hands and knees.
“He said crawl, brat.” And that was all the taller man said to you as he continued to look down at you.
Hongjoong pulled at the leash, making you crawl to him. You tried to crawl as slowly as possible, wanting to rile him up more. When you finally sat in front of him, he looked down at you with a wild grin, and with that, you knew you were fucked. 
Seonghwa passed the two of you, sitting down on the couch as you watched him. Your chin was grabbed, and your head was forced to turn back to look at Joong, as he made eye contact with you once again. 
“You wanted our attention, hm? Well now you’ve got it. And I don’t think you’ll like what comes next.” He said calmly, but his tone conveyed that he was anything but. “Now are you ready for your punishment, pet?” He asked.
You rolled your eyes, not feeling there was anything you needed to be punished for. You wanted their attention, was it so hard for them to give you the attention you needed. 
A tug of your collar pulled you back to the present, making you quirk an eyebrow at Hongjoong. He stood up, though his glare at you when you tried to get up made you stay in your place on the floor. He kept a hold on your leash as he moved to open one of the desk drawers, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He walked the few steps back over to you and walked around behind you, squatting down to pull your arms behind your back, a clicking sound notifying that your arms were being restrained. 
He pulled you up off of the ground, pushing you towards Seonghwa who was watching the two of you from the couch. You fall into the eldest man’s  lap, hearing chuckles above you as your head falls into his chest. 
“Awww look at you, falling into my lap like a cute little bunny.” You heard from above your head, before you felt arms pull you properly into his lap. “There we go.”
You look at Hwa, seeing no compassion in his eyes for you at the moment, only looking annoyed at how bratty you’ve been. He quirked an eyebrow at you, before he looked past you at his boyfriend. You can’t see what they’re doing, only knowing that they’re silently talking to each other. Next thing you knew, Seonghwa reached down to unbuckle his pants to reveal his cock, and well, maybe wearing a skirt wasn’t the best option today, since all he had to do was reach under and pull your panties to the side. He did so, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it lightly to get you wet enough, which wasn’t hard. You quickly slicked up enough, and by the time you had, you were well on your way to an orgasm. Just as you were reaching the peak, Seonghwa’s thumb removed itself from your clit. 
“I was so close, why’d you stop!” You whined, pouting at your oldest partner.
“Brats don’t get to come. This is a punishment after all.” Seonghwa simply said.
And before you could retort, he lined up his cock with your pussy and pushed into you, leaving you to whimper as you felt the stretch of your walls, head falling down to lean on his shoulder.
“Hwa, please.” You said, slightly begging for some mercy, only to receive a chuckle in return. You tried moving around to make it feel more pleasurable, only for him to tsk at you. He stayed still, looking at you like you bored him.
“You’re not allowed to move, hm. Brats don't get anything. So you're gonna sit here darling, and not move a muscle, and you'll get no stimulation at all from me. You wanted to sit on my cock, well you got your wish. Just not how you expected it, hmm?"
He then picks up his phone from beside him, shifting his attention to that instead. You whine and complain, saying that it’s not fair that he’s not paying any attention to you. He continued ignoring you, with the exception of telling you, without looking your way, that,  "The longer you complain, the longer you get nothing." 
Hongjoong silently watched the two of you, before he turned back to his own work, which had been rudely interrupted. You whine as you try and get comfortable in your current unfortunate position, unable to get yourself fully comfortable. Unable to turn and see the clock in the room, time felt like it went on forever, and you lost any sense of time. As time passed, you felt yourself get closer and closer to breaking, wanting nothing more than for your two men to touch you. You were almost ready to apologize to them, to beg for them to touch you. Your whines get louder and louder, attracting the attention of the two men, though Hongjoong’s gaze only lingers for a moment or two, before he moves his gaze back to his work. Tears well in your eyes as you feel you can’t take much more of this, and Seonghwa chuckles at seeing the tears in your eyes.
“Hmm, are you giving in that easily darling?” He asks, looking at you finally, as a tear rolls down your cheek.
Meanwhile, Hongjoong was facetime San, needing his help with the guide recording. San answers that he’ll help, but then he hears your whines and whimpers in the background, and this triggers his curiosity. He makes a comment about hearing you in the background, playing the concerned friend who’s just curious. 
“If you’re that curious, why don’t you come and see for yourself?” Hongjoong replied to his question. 
San quickly nods, hanging up the phone as he heads up from the gym within the company building. You had no idea what had occurred, having no thoughts except that you wanted this torture to end. Tears flowed down your cheeks and falling down onto your shirt, Seonghwa just watching you.
The door opened, and you saw someone walk in from the corner of your eye, and turned your head to see San. He chuckled as he walked over to the couch, looking down at you with a condescending smirk on his face. Stopping next to you and Seonghwa, he raised an eyebrow at your predicament, as you looked up with him, tears still running down your face. 
"Aww, what did the dumb baby do this time to get punished?" He asked mockingly.
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neoplatinum · 16 days
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i choose you - part 3 | minatozaki sana
summary: a darkness in sana's past comes back into light
pairing: heiress!sana x reader
themes: blood, murder, gore, knives, arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex, misamo!
wc: 5.9k
(series masterlist)
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you stare at her as she stares at you back. the eyes of a woman who's held her domain for decades, bursting in power through the new age of technology. her eyes are still as sharp as ever, despite her age. it's how she's kept her power for so long.
long brushes of the tea cup lid against the cup, nursing a cup of sencha. 
"tell me, how devoted are you to the mintaozaki clan." she continues to swirl the tea in the porcelain cup. her eyes never leaving yours. 
you stare at her, but also to take a glance at the elders of the minatozaki clan all staring at you. strong eyes and the crest pinned to their delicate fabrics.
momo and mina are sat on the second row of chairs lining the edges of the room. various council advisors and distant family members sat in the back corners as well.
"i would lay my life on the line for the minatozakis." she stops her swirling. the gentle drop of the lid back onto the cup as she sets it down next to her.
with the flick of her wrist, a man shuffles towards, head bowed as he hands her a folder. the sound of papers being flipped through while you keep your eyes trained on the floor. 
all around are eyes peering in, a dare. they stare, daring you to make any sign of weakness, you keep your eyes unwavering as you wait. it's so quiet that an outsider would expect no one in this room. you can even hear the faint sound of wind outside.
"let me rephrase. would you survive for the minatozaki clan." she places the paper down. eyes instantly back on you. 
"until my last dying breath. i would utter it for the minatozaki name." you say, staring at her with intensity of a thousand flames. you think of sana, of haruto and hanako. the person you have become since being part of the family.
the matriach leans back into her chair. and you stare, for any sign of emotion. the way her eyes remain neutral and unchanging, hands comfortably laying on her lap. her feet tucked together and that large pendant on her neck.
"understood." another flick of the wrist. a different man walks forward, head bowed just like the last. 
his head low as he presents a tanto with both hands. the six inch double edged blade. a long dagger, sheathed in dark brown wooden scabbard. 
lined with the proud name of the minatozaki clan in hiragana, etched into the layered metal. she holds it within her palms, unsheathing it and holding it out.
"do you know of the etching tradition?" she says as she feels for the blade, the tip piercing enough of her skin to let out a drip of blood. she wraps it into a cloth as she goes back to staring at you.
"no, i do not." you've never even heard of the tradition to begin with. eyeing sana from the corner of your eye but she keeps her eyes focused on her mother.
"present." and then the cacophony of hands folding up their arm sleeves, and the turning of their forearm towards the matriarch, you can barely see it, but it's there. the scarred skin in the symbol of the minatozaki crest, just in the center of everyone's right forearm.
a glance to your right, and you notice it on sana's forearm, it's always been there. even in the curiosity you never asked, always wondering how she had a perfect scarring of her family name. the way it stretches across her arm, like a branding. 
like an imprint of being in a cult, you look back at the matriarch.
upon her forearm, the same name is etched deeply, a long stretch of scars lining around it, never touching the name directly. the room all around you, are filled with minatozakis, each and everyone one of them.
"the minatozaki name will be etched into your skin. do not show weakness." the matriarch calls you forth, you rise to your feet, making quick steps to her. kneeling before her as you present your arm, to which she gently rubs over.
the tanto digs into your arm, and you grind your teeth willing the pain away as the tip of the blade drags along the skin. clean and sharp lines that are moving like brush strokes on a painting. 
you grip onto your pants for a distraction to shift the pain. the burning and sweating sensation making you tremble a little. you will it away when you feel the blade lift up suddenly. 
"breathe." you can hear sana's voice behind you, calming the pain brewing all over your body. 
letting out a held breath that's been burning your lungs. a reminder that this pain is temporary, the breathing chills the burning sensation in your head. 
the final mark is laid upon your skin, and you can feel yourself feeling faint, holding onto the floor to keep your body upright. you feel the blade lift off your skin, the sound of the blade being cleaned, while you stare at the pool of blood on the marbled floor, dripping and seeping underneath your shoe. 
"rise." she speaks. you stand up, letting the blood continue to run down your arm. 
the ringing in your ears gets louder and louder. she speaks of tradition, the value of the name across your arm. all eyes continue to stare you down, eyes like steel. 
"this blade, has etched every minatozaki in this room, and those that have been laid to rest. this blade, will continue to etch into the minatozaki clan for future generations." you stare at the blade now in your hand, only seconds ago tearing your skin apart and being branded as the family's new pawn.
"to a new generation." she says as she hands it over, the drippings of your blood still across the double beveled edge. you stare at the blade, the weight of it, the memories of each person etched. it's heavier than you expected. 
generations of minatozaki's all carved into submission. you begin to feel it, stirring low in your subconscious, you need more.
--
every night in the dark study, you stare at the name. forever in your skin, and upon your body. a sign that you are now a minatozaki, even years spent becoming a figurehead didn't sear the idea until now. 
the scarring has scabbed over and begun to heal, into that perfect shape of the name. 
sana's been telling you stories about her late father, the patriarch of the minatozaki clan before he was assassinated by the abe clan. the abe's who wanted his land, his ability to rule over japan.
stories of his strict rulings, his inability to feel remorse, his lack of fear. his dictatorship under his ship, even more fierce than his father. 
the golden age of the minatozaki clan.
you often visit the matriarch, learning family secrets that wouldn't be uttered under broad daylight. understanding the inner workings of a regime that's lasted centuries.
more so, you've been trained by the matriarch to take over the next generation for the minatozaki's. receiving training in the philanthropy for public image, but also training on how to take out an enemy without letting a single drop of blood fall.
you can see how the minatozaki's have gotten so far, extremely cautious and calculating, much like other conglomerate group families. as much as you didn't want to be pulled in, here you are. fighting both momo and mina in hand-to-hand combat. 
a swift kick of the leg, and you topple over. the pain of the right hook that momo landed earlier still leaving a stinging in your cheek. you turn over, breathing in and out.
"you're still too slow." momo comments, sitting down with mina doing the same.
you continue to stare at the bright light overhead, the feeling of your heart beating thumping in your ears, the sweat dripping down your body.
"i know." 
mina gets up, grabbing water bottles and passing one to you. you sit up, drinking it as the two woman stare at you.
"why do you do this?" momo starts, a curious question that's been plaguing her mind lately. 
the minatozaki's never asked you to be trained to be the next head of family, but you took it upon yourself to do so. grueling physical training, while learning the arts of the past generations.
mina continues to sip at her water, eyes watching you.
"duty. for sana, for haruto, for hanako." you explain, as much as you didn't want to become a pawn for their family, you care so deeply for the family that you now have, one that you would tear apart the world for.
mina nods, but momo rolls her eyes, "how noble." and with another sip, she gets up again. you begin sparring once more. 
--
rolling your shoulders when you walk into your office, grabbing some soothing oil to rub onto the bruise on your ribs and the smaller bruises along your shoulders. 
you stare at the tanto that now lays in a secret compartment under your desk. the etching tradition still leaves you in a heavy daze these days, how much you have changed all for sana's family. 
when the devil herself walks in.
"you need to fire that assistant of yours." sana walks in, handbag hanging off her arm. glasses perched on her nose bridge, the exhaustion rolling off her words. she seems aggravated. 
"why?" you cock your head to the side.
"she just told me you have a meeting in five, which i mean sure thank you for the information but i seriously don't care." you laugh out, as she crosses her arm. sitting comfortably in the armchair in front of you. 
it seems today is one of those days.
"she's just doing her job." you explain. you liked shoko, she did her job well, often reworking your schedule when you needed her to. and she rarely complained about it, you even gave her a raise recently.
"yeah and i'm doing mine." sana gets up, leaving her bag on the floor and crosses over to you, dropping herself onto your lap.
she takes the glasses off your face. letting it slide across the table. you're about to get up to pick it up, when sana pushes more of her weight onto you. keeping you in your seat.
"last time you just waltzed into one of my 1 on 1 client meetings and sat on my lap the whole time." you point at her, showcasing the same exact behavior.
"yeah, like i said, i'm doing my job." sana says, taking off her sunglasses.
"sana...." you say dejectedly.
"i didn't hear you complaining when you bent me over this table and ate me out the rest of the afternoon." and with that she smashes her lips against yours. 
you completely forget what you were complaining about earlier.
--
"what's your favorite color?" sana's voice is quietly coming through the microphone, she called you multiple times, and texting you urgently nearly ten times. 
you silenced it, only to get a note from your assistant to pick up her calls.
"hmm, green." you say, watching as the shareholders stare you down, waiting for your approval.
without another second, the sound of the call ending comes through, you glance at your phone screen, seeing the call disappear, and a little confused.
"sorry, please continue." you point at the junior executive, he's been trying to get through this presentation without peeing his pants, and really you would like to get through it enough for him to finally calm down.
fifteen minutes later you get multiple pings on your phone.
"so like i said, we expect the project with akira industries to go well-" the junior executive's voice completely drowns out into white noise when you see what's displayed on your screen.
sana baby: attachment: 3 images
sana baby: you like?
your phone screen is filled with green, all three photos illuminating your face in a green hue. 
green lingerie set, green bows tied around her hair, and your dress shirt draped over one. good god, she looks like a vixen. 
photos of her laying across the bed, aimed at the mirror, long legs that stretch across the comforter. gorgeous lithe body framed by that light green corset. pouty lips in a selfie, aimed down at her cleavage.
you nearly curse out loud, instead letting a cough come through at the last second to cover it up.
another message comes through. you lift your phone back up to your face.
sana baby: you come home in thirty and you can take it off with your hands, any later and you do it with your teeth.
--
you're trying to pick out your work outfit for tomorrow, eyes glancing at all the dress shirts that you had hung up in the walk-in closet. you can hear sana faintly humming through the other side of the closet.
"sana..." you pick out one shirt, noticing the pink-ish red color across the collar.
"yes darling?" she says in a light-hearted tone, you see her walk over with her eyes a little playful. her eyes landing on the dress shirt that you have in your hand.
you hold it up to her face.
"why are my dress shirts littered with lipstick marks?" she takes the dress shirt out of your hand, eyeing it with happiness.
"they need to know who you belong to." she says and hands it back to you. 
you shake your head at it. putting it back onto the rack. 
only to notice another shirt, and another shirt, and another shirt.
"i mean, literally every single shirt is covered in them." you point at the whole rack, now noticing the pink/red littered across the collars. all of them have it. you turn to look at her, eyes wide as she just smiles at her handiwork.
she gives you a peck and just leaves. turning her head to look at you over the shoulder and give one last remark.
"you better not wash them off or you're sleeping on the couch."
--
"the abe clan cordially invites you to the 2027 annual ball." you stare at the invitation in your hand, red cardstock, beautiful crest in the dead center. 
with sana's quiet humming, you barely register that you've arrived at the abe clan's main estate. dark and light reds adorning the walls, intricate wooden carvings of dragons. the dark red crest and lapels on each security guard. 
the sedan rolls forwards, until you're stopped by two guards. handing the invitation card to the chauffeur, and letting the guards scan the car. 
you watch sana, her eyes floating around, admiring the long trees that line around the garden's pond.
and then the car continues to roll forwards, and all around you are different black marked cars. each with their own crest, women and men donning different formal wear. kimonos, tuxedos, hanboks, qipaos, ao dais, all around.
the door opens, and you step out, rounding the corner to take sana's arms into yours.
"one rule with the abe's, do not ever drink first in front of an abe." she whispers quietly as you both enter down a deep tunnel, much like the minatozaki house. 
large stone slabs lined underneath, but you can see it above, the lining of birds across a wired line. much like a telephone line. their dark beady eyes staring down, with jet black feathers that make their body look like voids. 
they all move their heads in turn with the walking guests. "trained birds, trained to kill." she comments and continues to pull you forward. 
then you enter a big hall, filled with different dignitaries, generals, top executives, council members, even a few celebrity faces. 
sana smiles at the sight of the turning heads, everyone's excited to see another conglomerate family at these events. "just smile and nod." she whispers again through a smile.
you do the same, watching the eyes all peer back at you. they don't have the stillness of the minatozakis, there's bloodlust, there's evil, there's an ominous undertone behind those spheres. a predator lying dormant in each and everyone one of them.
with the sound of the doors opening, you hear the awws of the guests, all piling into the abe main hall. much like the grandeur of the minatozaki clan, it's lined with artifacts of war. 
great katanas and bows hung along the walls. dark and deep red colored accents, a giant abe crest upon the center. there's beautiful music playing in the background as you scan the room. sana tugs you along.
"how much do you know about the abe's?" sana stares at you as she hands you a small knife. you tuck it into the breast pocket.
"a little." you offer, brushing her hair out of her face, and she gleams at that, giving a little kiss before returning back to her stoic face.
"kaito and kenji, two sons of the abe clan. kaito's set to become the head of the family. there's rumors that kenji might kill him for the seat." she explains, adjusting the knife in her thigh holster.
you nod, her mother has educated you on all the conglomerate groups, especially the abe and watanabe clan. both have been vying for the possible absorption of the minatozaki clan.
you adjust the knife holster for her, as you check your surroundings, just as you expected. nearly the same power in their private military, donning red fabric. you both take off to the other side of the room, eyes darting from face to face trying to remember significant figures, but who are you kidding, they're all people in power.
browsing through plates of delicacies, waiters and waitresses circling with plates of drinks. each more colorful than the last, it seems the abe have distinct taste.
you're leaning to your left when you're suddenly pulled into a conversation, the woman making large and loud gestures at you. most of which you nod and let the words flow through your ears. you never thought you would see her again.
sana's staring, taking turns staring at her and staring at you. her hold on your arm tighter than ever, feeling the blood thump in your arm. she continues to drone on until finally she gets swept into another conversation with someone else.
sana unhooks her arm from you.
"who is that?" sana stares at you, arms folded and that tick in her jaw. you can't help but keep eyeing the long black dress that she has on, with a deep thigh slit along the left side. 
you try your best to keep the impure thoughts to yourself, instead offering a kiss to sana's forehead when you stand in front of her.
"hmm, old friend from law school."
sana had been eyeing the woman even as she moved across the room. even more upset when she slid up next to you. talking your head off about something that must have been boring because she could recognize the attention leaving your body.
but she can't help but notice how forward the woman was, unnecessarily putting her hands on you. unnecessarily laughing at whatever you are saying, just a bit too hard. unnecessarily pushing her cleavage up against you.
"our year?" sana says, brushing off a piece of lint from your jacket, also brushing off the feeling of the woman off your jacket. 
you stare at her manicured fingers. long slender fingers that wear your ring proudly. you smile at the sight of the large diamond.
"no, a year younger." you say softly, bringing her hand up to kiss it. she flips your hand over to kiss it back. "why do you ask?"
"didn't know you liked younger women..." she comments, back to nitpicking what the woman is wearing tonight. 
how dare she try and lay her hands on you? sana's thinking of calling momo and mina to do some 'intervention'.
"i don't, like younger women i mean." you watch sana as she stares down the woman. the way she holds onto the neck of the champagne flute, the way she has that tick in her jaw, the way she can't keep moving her eyes up and down in disdain.
"good." she comments back, it's more so to herself, so you roll your eyes at that.
"i only like you sana." you say the golden words that make her heart melt. she stares at you for a bit.
"mhm keep sweet talking me like that and i’ll let you fuck me in the bathroom." she drapes her arm over your neck pulling you into a hot kiss, tossing a wink to the woman from earlier.
you pull away, her chasing after you, but with all the prying eyes you'd rather enjoy sana in a more private place. 
you begin to pull her towards anywhere that isn't open space for people to watch, when you bump into someone on accident.
"oh hello." the man turns around, a tall man toying with a knife in hand. his eyes dancing with amusement. "apologies, hope there's no hard feelings."
"none here." you offer, trying to side-step around him when he places his small knife at your neck. you look down at it, engraving in the base with red ink.
"kenji abe." you whisper to yourself, but he claps in delight, nodding quickly and sheathing his dagger away.
"that is me!" he exclaims, offering his hand. you shake it, his grip awfully loose, too loose.
"nice to meet you mr. abe." you explain, still trying to drag sana away. he stops you with a hand, a little smirk on his face. taking a glance at you and sana.
“nice to meet the minatozaki’s new lapdog.” he smiles, and then takes a look at sana, “hello sana, it’s been a while hasn’t it. kaito misses you.” the curling devilish smile as he hands both of you a drink. and taking one for himself. 
“cheers! to a lovely abe ball.” he says as he holds the glass in the air, you take a quick look at sana out of your eye as you both clink his glass, letting it linger away from your lip. 
watching the way he smirks, and then drinks his champagne. he smiles at you both before disappearing into the crowd. 
“never liked him.” sana shudders as she says it, you just smile at her. letting her lay on your shoulder. “him and kaito. they’re dangerous. and he called you a lapdog, what an excuse of a man.”
you just nod, absorbing the information you’ve just been told. it’s not easy transitioning into this lifestyle, with structures and family systems in place, you feel like you really are out of your depth here.
a question still remains, what did he mean by kaito misses sana? you’re distracted by even more dramatic flairs of the abe ball. fire lighting up around, spotting several of your father’s old business partners, nodding to them.
"have i told you how gorgeous you look tonight?" sana starts, giving you a light kiss under your jaw.
"hmm, no, not tonight." you smirk, leaning into her, garnering another kiss. you smile when she rolls her eyes, kissing her jaw lightly too.
"well you do, and i think you would look even more gorgeous under me." she whispers into your ear, you lean back. it seems tonight’s been getting under her skin, constantly trying to get you away from the ball.
you shake your head ready to tell her no when you hear a mic being tapped.
“hello, welcome to the 247th annual abe ball!” a tall well tailored man is speaking into the mic, upon a lifted podium. his voice loud and commanding as he looks below at all the guests. 
all around you are people clapping at him, so you begin to clap, interested in whoever this man might be.
“my name is kaito abe, thank you all for joining us tonight.” he booms into the mic, the sound booming off the walls, everyone clapping at his pauses.
“tonight, we have something special, a very special event.” he says, lifting his hand out to the other side of the podium. white flashing lights suddenly illuminating three bodies. 
the sound of gasps and quiet whispers making you curious. you keep your hand on the knife, sana’s picked up on the same thing, her hand pulling the thigh knife.
“i welcome you, the death of the watanabe’s.” and there you can see it, white fluorescent lights shining across three figures. their eyes begging for help while they’re forced to face the bloodlust of kaito abe. 
“sana, get behind me.” you push her behind you, her eyes staring at the watanabe’s. 
they look roughed up, blood already pouring from their heads and clothes. the patriarch, his wife and the only heir.
“you see, a little weasel from their clan, a vermin even.” kaito begins throwing the tanto he has in his hand, one much like the minatozaki tanto you have in your desk.
he continues to flip it through the air with ease. “tried getting into our clan, how silly right?”
he leans forward, nearly off the edge of the podium as he laughs maniacally. you can see shuffling begin to happen, people are panicking, trying to leave the ball. 
only to be pushed back into the center by the abe guards, all of them wielding weapons.
“oh no, you can’t leave darling, the show’s barely begun!” he continues to round the podium, letting out a laugh when the woman starts crying, his tanto hanging loosely in his hand as he points at the woman.
“see, when there's a rat in your home, what do you do?” he continues to pace the podium. “answer me!” 
he shouts from above, more people are shuffling nervously and then you hear a distant, “you exterminate them!” 
“BINGO! you. exterminate. them.” he laughs a bit, walking briskly towards them, pulling at the hair of the patriarch. 
you curse out loud, his swollen eyes and chunks of his hair missing. 
“but you can’t just exterminate one rat. no. no. they will just continue to repopulate. exterminate. at. the. source.” and then he jabs the tanto right into the man’s neck. 
blood gushing onto his suit like a geyser. he lets out a laugh as the man sputters up blood before falling forward. 
then he moves towards his wife, stabbing into her neck as her cries turn into screams. dragging out a laugh from him, meanwhile their son is crying silently, arms defeated as he watches his two parents’ now dead body.
“and remember. no survivors left behind.” he says with finality, as he shoves the tanto deep into the son’s neck, the tanto left inside.
sana’s covered her eyes into your back. you can feel her shaking a bit, you cover her ears as you pull her close, letting her keep her head against your chest. 
“sana?” she just continues to shake in your arms, fear enveloping her entire body. memories of her younger self around the abe clan. you’ve never seen her so scared. she clings onto you like a lifeline. 
“thank you, thank you! i hope you enjoyed the show!” he takes a deep bow, one in which he keeps his head forward with that smirk on his face. joy from killing, joy from being able to make others submit to him.
and then he walks over, using his foot as leverage as he pulls out the knife, wiping it clean off, and disappearing behind a door in the wall. the sound of shouts and chaos echoing through the hall.
--
the car ride is silent, sana’s gone quiet, simple nods when you ask her if she’s alright. eyes squeezed tightly and one hand curling around the other. you don’t even know where to begin talking about the events of tonight.
the abe’s are ruthless killers, you remember that even from when sana told you. it just takes a live performance of it to see how they are devoid of remorse. 
kaito abe, kaito abe, kaito abe. 
you barely knew the watanabe’s, only speaking to their son once, he was quiet. he didn’t seem the type to want to lead their clan, but now he lays dead, at the hands of kaito.
you play with your knife in your hand, thinking about how easily it shoved down the watanabe’s, killing them so quickly. the same blade that’s supposed to show honor and birth of a new member of the clan, used for killing those that harm the family.
the car rolls into the manor, and you take a deep breath, looking at sana. eyes still unfocused and staring at her own hands. you open the door and round the back to open the door to her side.
“darling? we’re home.” you offer your hand, she doesn’t even move. so you tap her shoulder lightly, she jumps at the touch, moving back from it.
“oh, sorry.” she takes your hand, and you pull her out, leading her towards the door. you immediately squatting at the sight of haruto and hanako walking outside.
picking up haruto in your arms, while sana picks up hanako, a warm smile back on her face. holding hanako tightly to her chest. haruto messes with your hair, pointing around and talking about his day. you kiss his forehead and walk inside. 
there’s still a weird tension lingering around her, she refuses to look you in the eyes. instead preoccupying herself with putting hanako to bed. so you do the same putting haruto into bed. tucking him in and giving him a kiss while sana waits outside. you kiss hanako on the forehead as well before slipping out.
giving yourself a deep breath when you close the door, you see sana next to you, her eyes back to their unfocused state. there’s something she isn’t telling you, and normally you aren’t one to pry. but after the events of tonight, you need to know.
“sana, are you alright?” you hold her head in your hands, eyes peering into hers, for any sign really. she just nods, taking a deep breath, dragging you down the hallway.
“i have something to tell you.” she begins as she sits at her vanity. starting to take off her earrings, you unclasp the necklace that she has on, placing it into a velvet box before tucking it away. 
she stares at herself in the mirror, memories of her past self resurfacing.
“kaito abe and i, we used to date. set to marry actually.” you sit next to hit, listening intently as she continues to take out hairpins and set them across her table. “it was what was destined for us, until his father killed my uncle. momo and mina’s father.”
you nod, you didn’t know much about momo and mina but there was an emptiness in their eyes, you always assumed it was because they were trained soldiers.
“seeing them up there on the platform, it felt like i was watching momo and mina being killed at his hands. then i thought, what if he killed you, what if he killed haruto and hanako. i’m so scared.” she bursts into tears, hands shaking to hold yours.
“he won’t be able to, i won’t let him.” you say confidently, kissing her gently. 
--
“so, the minatozakis were here tonight.” kenji stares at kaito, both of them throwing knives at a corkboard, you and sana’s photos pinned to the board.
“yes, sana and her plaything.” kenji turns to a guard, handing him ten new knives. kaito just laughs, doubling over and wiping the tears out of his eyes.
“her plaything? how delightful.” kaito stares at the photo of you, and then down at the photo of haruto and hanako by your side. “and her spawns.” 
“yes, two it seems.” kenji nods as he continues to throw straight into the forehead of your photos. the two continue to throw knives in the silence, slicing through the air, as they land on the different photos across the board.
“kenji, let’s topple the minatozakis?” kaito stares at sana’s photo as he aims for her heart, landing dead in the center.
“with pleasure.” his final knife aimed straight at your heart.
--
a/n: message me if you want a part 4 :^P
419 notes · View notes
fadedncity · 6 months
Text
mask off
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
wc: 2.5k
pairing: jisung x fem!reader
cw: smut, bf!jisung, non idol au, mentions of other idols, semi public sex, knife play, role play, fingering, choking, manhandling, praise and degradation kink, pet names, teasing, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol consumption and use of marijuana, horror movie references
a/n: not really relevant but thought i’d clarify reader is dressed as tiffany valentine from bride of chucky.
You checked your phone for what seems like the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, you rechecked your call log to make sure you didn't miss one from him.
You sigh, locking your phone, and look over the balcony. Scanning the crowd below you, taking over Ningning's backyard, you search for Jisung. But you knew it would be no use between there being too many people and you not knowing what he was dressed as.
It wasn't until your eyes stopped on one person.
The Ghostface mask had initially caught your attention and caused you to do a double take, as it's surprisingly the first and only you've seen tonight. But you also realize they're looking back at you. With everyone else too intoxicated to notice you even up on the balcony, they were the only one looking up at you.
The masked individual doesn't do or say anything, remaining still as the party carries on around them. You straighten up when a bit of paranoia creeps up your spine.
Just as you start retrieving back into the house, you jump at the sound of a knock on the balcony door and snap your head in its direction.
"Hey," Yunjin slides the door shut behind her, joining you outside, "you okay?" she asks.
You peer back over the balcony and no longer see this Ghostface anywhere outside.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you tell her, also telling yourself it was nothing, "Have you seen Jisung? He was supposed to be here a while ago but I haven't heard from him and his phone's probably on do not disturb again."
"No, but Alyssa said she just saw Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, and Ghostface pull up, pretty sure it was Chenle, Jisung, and Yangyang. So he's probably just around here somewhere."
"Alright," you say, heading back inside.
"We're about to smoke if you wanna join us, by the way."
"Let me head to the bathroom first."
"You need me to come with?" Yunjin asks.
"Nah, I won't be long. Just make sure Hyuck doesn't leave me with just the roach," you say.
. . .
You were humming along to the melody of the song you could hear playing outside of the bathroom as you reapplied your lipstick.
Your phone buzzed on the countertop with a text from Yunjin telling you to hurry up before you miss the cyph. You take one last look in the mirror, making sure your hair remains intact in its updo before collecting yourself and heading out.
Since you were looking down at your phone as you exited the bathroom, you didn't realize someone was standing in the corridor. 
When you do finally notice them, you almost jump out of your skin, having been unaware of your surroundings. 
"Holy fuck," you hold your hand over your rapidly beating heart. 
With the poor lighting, you can barely make out the face of the robed figure until they take a step closer, and you see the Ghostface mask.
"Jisung?" you call out to him, "First you can't text me back, then you go and scare me half to death?" you laugh.
He still didn't say anything, just silently standing there, the soulless black eyes of the mask staring back at you. His gloved hands reach into the pockets of his jeans, revealing the knife.
You were almost positive that it was Jisung, for sure, once you saw the familiar blade. 
Again, you laugh, "We're really doing this? 'Please, Mr. Ghostface, don't kill me. I wanna be in the sequel.'" you joke.
He remained quiet, your recital of Tatum's last words in the movie, seemingly falling on deaf ears.
"Is everything okay?" you ask.
Still no response. He tilted his head and took a step forward.
"Alright, babe, you're starting to scare me," you say, backing away from him while clutching your phone.
He was backing you back toward the bathroom, and you were running out of room to go.
"Jisung, seriously, you're freaking me the fuck out," you say once your back hits the door. The space between you gets smaller and smaller, with you nowhere left to go.
Is it even really Jisung? 
You're breathing so heavily, that every time you inhale, your chest hits his as his face inches closer to yours.
"Boo!"
Your anxiety dissipates once you hear the switchblade click shut, and Jisung drops his hood, pulling the mask from over his head. He's laughing, so you punch him in the shoulder.
"Ow!" Jisung rubs his arm.
"Fuck you! That wasn't funny," you say.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Jisung holds your waist, "but it was almost too perfect of a chance I had to take." he says, and you cross your arms over your chest. "Come on, if I really was some serial killer you think I'd do it in a house full of witnesses."
"Have you learned nothing from the movies?" you furrow your brows.
"All I'm saying is if I really was Ghostface…" he takes out the voice modulator, holding it up to his mouth, "I'd give you a better death than just bleeding out in some dark hallway."
Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and your breathing became shallow. You're embarrassed to admit how much hearing Jisung's voice through the modifier turned you on. 
"How thoughtful," your lashes flutter, "But I'm pretty sure I'd be able to take you as Ghostface."
"You weren't putting up much of a fight five seconds ago."
"Who said anything about taking you in a fight?"
"Oh?" he raises a brow, "Is that so?"
Jisung opens the bathroom door behind you, pushing you inside the confined space. Once he locks the door shut, he connects his lips to yours. He lifts you by your waist, settling you on the countertop, and you wrap your legs around his hips.
You roughly fist Jisung's hair, the kiss quickly becoming heated. His hands are all over you, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Jisung's tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the lingering bitterness of smoke from your last hit a while ago, mixing with the drink he had before finding you still on his lips.
One of his hands find their way between your legs, swiping his fingers over your clothed pussy. You shutter, attempting to close your legs around his hand to keep him there. Even through his gloves, he can tell you're already soaked through your panties and smirks at you.
"What's got you this wet, Ms. Valentine?"
"You, Ji," you answer. 
"All me for me huh?" he asks, and your brows furrow in confusion, "You sure it wasn't Ghostface who's got you this wet?"
Oh, shit. 
"I uh-"
"After making me watch all six movies on only our second date, I didn't really think much of it," he says, and you sheepishly laugh, "But it all started to make sense when I overheard you on the phone with Chaeryeong the other day…" Jisung trails off, hoping you'd catch on.
And you do, gasping with wide eyes, "Oh my god, no you didn't."
"I kinda did."
You groan, covering your face, "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to think I was weird."
"Hate to break it to you, but I already thought that," he says lightheartedly.
"Jisung," you whine out of embarrassment.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. I just don't know why you didn't say anything to me before," he softly pouts.
"And how exactly did you want me to go about that? 'Hey, babe, how was your day? By the way, I have this twisted fantasy of being railed by Ghostface. Wanna grab dinner?'" you question.
"Obviously not like that," Jisung scoffs, "I'm just saying, as your boyfriend, I'm more than happy to turn this twisted fantasy into a reality for you," he smiles at you, "Do you trust me?"
"With my life," you nod.
"Then would you allow me the honor?"
"The honor's all yours."
You snake your arms around Jisung's neck as he crashes his lips into yours. He brings his lips to your neck, suckling the skin between his teeth, leaving small bruises along your throat.
"You know this is almost always exactly how it goes in horror movies," you comment and you tip your head back, giving him more access.
"Oh my god," Jisung rolls his eyes, "Look if you don't wanna-" Jisung jokingly reaches for the doorknob.
"No, no," you keep your legs locked around him, "If I'm to die tonight, right here with you is where I'd wanna be," you kiss him.
"Can't think of anywhere else I'd wanna be. Now are you gonna keep talking about death or let me fuck you?" Jisung pulls you back onto your feet, turning you around to face the mirror.
"I'm not the only eager one here, I see," you push your ass into his groin.
"As much as I'd love to stay here and play with you all night, princess, we've already been gone for too long and the search party will come looking soon," he says before pulling a glove off with his teeth.
Jisung rolls the leather of your dress up over your hips and slides his hand between your legs. He pulls your panties to the side and slips a finger into your pussy.
"God, you're fucking soaked already," Jisung says, adding a second finger, causing your eyes to flutter shut, "This shit really does turn you on," a lopsided grin takes place on his face before his fingers leave you empty.
You grumble, frustrated. "Fuck off-"
"I'd watch your tone, sweetness," he held the knife to your throat. "Wouldn't wanna lose that pretty voice of yours."
It was then, you realized he pulled the mask back down over his head. You felt the edge of the knife press against your esophagus. If you hadn't previously been in this position with your boyfriend a number of times before, one would think you'd be worried, maybe even a little scared. But no, you were now beyond the point of being turned on, your body practically boiling with arousal.  
"Please, don't," you plead, "I'll do anything," you turn your head to look at him and bat your lashes.
"Anything, huh?"
"Anything," you nod.
Jisung began tracing the knife edge along your chest, "With a pretty thing like you, I'm sure I can think of a few other things to do with you."
In one quick motion, he drops the knife to his other hand, and you hear the sound of fabric ripping as he slices your panties and pulls it from your body.
And there goes the third pair this month. 
But you could care less about your tattered underwear, now discarded on the tiled floor, once you hear the zipper of his jeans coming undone. Jisung wastes no more time and lines his cock up with your entrance. You sharply inhale, feeling his thick length open you up.
"Oh my god," your voice was barely above a whisper.
"Is that what you wanted?" he asked in your ear, "Let me use you however I want for the sake of saving your pretty little life."
You manage to open your eyes and look at your reflection. The sight of the mask behind you as his cock is buried balls deep inside of you, flooded you with more arousal, your walls fluttering around his dick.
Your response was interrupted by the moan bubbling up your throat, but Jisung saw the smile breaking out on your face.
"Y-Yes," you nod, "God—please…fuck me."
"See how easy it is to get to what you want when you just use your words," you hear the smirk on his voice, "Gonna take it all for me like a good girl, yeah?"
You nod with a gasp, your nails scratching against the marble countertop as Jisung's cock stretches you open, bottoming out. "Mhm! I'll be good. I'll be so good for you, I promise."
Jisung draws his hips back before slamming back into you, filling you to the hilt. He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. Your ass slaps against his pelvis each time he fills you up, picking up momentum and fucking you at a steady pace.
Loud moans and cries along with Jisung's name tumbled hazardously from your lips. Jisung's gloved hand covers your mouth, muffling your noises.
"God, you're such a whiny slut," he says, "Pathetically crying out like a bitch in heat."
You whine, seemingly struggling against his hold as you grew flustered at his words.
"No need to try and deny it, sweets. I've had my eyes on you long enough to know, this is the exact moment you've been having wet dreams of," Jisung's strong arms securely hold you against his chest, "What would that cute boyfriend of yours think if he were to see you like this? Letting me use you however I please and not being able to do anything to stop me." he darkly chuckles.
It turns you on even more knowing Jisung is just as into this as you are.
"God…you're sick," you pant.
"You're the one who's letting a dangerous killer fuck you, and I'm the sick one?"
"Fuck you," you spit.
Jisung's hand wraps around your neck, lightly squeezing down on the sides.
"Fuck me, huh. You're doing a great job at doing so already, princess," the roughness of his voice through the modulator had your head spinning or maybe it was the limited oxygen you were granted as his hand was still around your neck. Either way you could feel yourself stumbling closer to the edge.
You slip up and call out your boyfriend's name. "Ji, oh god, mhm—it's so good, oh my god!" you threw your head back.
"That's it, baby. You're doing so good for me."
"Feels so good—fuck, Sungie," Your back arched as you attempted to move your hips and began fucking yourself back on his cock.
Jisung was drunk off you—Every whimper and whine he pulled from you as he bent you over the sink, fucking you relentlessly. And the way your body writhed and squirmed against him, the intense pleasure flooding your veins as his tip kissed your sweet spot.
"Look at yourself," he grabbed your jaw, making you look into the mirror "If only everyone else could see how badly I've ruined you, precious."
Your mouth hangs open, nothing coming out except for broken moans. But there's a drunken smile on your face.
"Sungie, please," you whimper.
Jisung brings his hand back your throat, but without applying pressure this time. "You close, pretty?" Jisung asks, and you ferociously nod.
"Wanna cum for you," you whine, "Please, baby," your voice cracked with desperation.
"Cute how desperate you can get. It's almost pathetic."
"Jisung, oh my god-"
You reach behind you and grab the back of his head. Jisung feels the mask being pulled off his head, allowing you to drop it to the floor. Messy black locks flopped over his forehead as his eyes readjusted to the lighting. Fisting your hand in his hair, you bring his lips to yours, meeting in a desperate and sloppy kiss.
Jisung feels the knot inside him ready to snap but holds back as his hand returns between your thighs. He rubs sloppy circles into your clit, and you squirm in his arms, trying desperately to chase your release.
"Come on, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream for me."
You see stars behind your eyes as a moan rips from your throat, bouncing off every surface in the small space. Your body shakes in Jisung's arms as you cum. His cock throbs, his release finally coming when your pussy chokes his dick, and he paints your walls white.
"Fuck," Jisung rasps in your ear. He grabs onto the edge of the sink, fucking his cum into you as you squirm, feeling overstimulated.
You fall back against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder, "That was fucking amazing," you heavily pant against his skin as you place a kiss below his jaw.
"Yeah?" he caresses your face.
"I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life."
"I aim to please you, very very well," he kissed your forehead before slipping out of your heat. You mewl, feeling his fingers brush your folds, collecting his cum as it starts to drip out of you.
"I'm gonna be thinking about this for the next few months, by the way."
"Then I guess there's no need to get rid of the mask after tonight," Jisung smirks, picking the mask up from the ground.
You smile against his lips, "Definitely not."
a/n: uhh this was very self indulgent and lowkey inspired by this. thank you for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33
762 notes · View notes
inthelittlewood · 4 months
Note
What's the official tag for the Eyes and Ears/Fragments AU?
Ty hehe
So yeah, I'd love to hear people's ideas about where they think different players Fragments would appear on their bodies from each Life season
Reminder: If they win a series, that fragment is protected (feel free to still pick a location though)
Fragments are generally linked to a key moment or trauma in that season. Martyn's are:
3rd Life - Cheek (tear from killing Ren and losing him in the final battle)
Last Life - Between the shoulder blades (backstabbed)
Double Life - Chest, over where the heart is, cus, hearts are linked
Limited Life - Right hand, protected
Secret Life - Neck, due to inability to speak/share secrets (and dog collar lol)
Throw yours in #eaefragments (eyes and ears fragments) and maybe I'll read through a bunch on another stream <3
Also as always, any chit chat about this AU can be kept under #eyesandears, try not to tag the main watcher / listener tags as to not confuse people
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pedgito · 4 months
Text
𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (AU) — Joel Miller X Fem!Reader
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Summary: I made a joke about wanting to screw dirt-covered Joel even if he was deep in the trenches of hell and...well, yeah. This is pure filth and nothing else. Porn with minuscule plot, if you will | beta'd by @planet-marz1 & @beskarandblasters.
Word Count & Warnings: 6k | 18+, fem!reader, demon!joel, no specific age gap since dude is a literal demon, but reader is early 20s and I picture Joel to be his younger self (around 36), mentions of su*cidal ideations, this all a completely made up concept pls don't come for me about rituals, ect i will cry. virgin!reader, reader's father is a priest and horrible (just a total douche)/mother isn't alive, spitting, oral, unprotected piv, blood drinking, competency kink, innocence kink, mutual masturbation, if i missed anything let me know!
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Heaven forbid you end up in a situation like this.
No, literally. Heaven specifically forbids it.
You’ve done the research, the hours and hours of scavenging online in search of the proper offerings, the right way to to complete this…ritual.
It’s foreign and completely out of your element.
As if anyone was familiar with this, beside the defunct group of people that completed these rituals for entertainment but were very swiftly ran out of town, though you’re sure they lay dormant somewhere.
You weren’t sure if any of them were attempting to summon demons to make deals with either, but here you were.
Standing at a dark and lonely crossroads in your hometown, on your knees, begging for anyone to answer your pleas.
Not prayers—nothing like that. 
You check and double-check the carefully drawn sigils, recounting the incantation in your head to make sure you said it right, knowing that everything you buried in the small dirt pile in the ground was what was required. Even ripped off the cross necklace your father had gifted you as a child and threw it in a nearby field, not wanting to take any chances.
Maybe this was pointless, hoping on a whim that all those stories were true, that there were other forces at play. Good or evil, it didn’t matter.
Your naivety was showing, the blade held tightly in your left hand was shaking and you thought maybe…just a small drop, maybe it would help.
And you’re almost breaking skin when there’s a solid woosh behind you, the cold draft goosebumping your bare skin, knowing this dress was a mistake, once pristine and white now matted with spatterings of dirt and filth.
“Oh my,” The voice singsongs low from over your shoulder, “now, what is this?”
The knife clatters to the ground loudly.
You chance a glimpse over your shoulder, expression meek and fearful as you take in the man before you.
That’s what he was.
All man, nothing like what you’ve been told to believe. No horns, no wings, no overtowering presence to send you running in the opposite direction. Nothing like the stories you’ve heard as a child.
And he’s rightfully beautiful—clearly defined edges to his jaw, a stature that felt both threatening and comforting, he held himself high, a proper posture that had to have been learned. Taught. Drilled and instilled into his outwardly behavior. He smiles wide, bright and shining teeth behind plush lips and a nose that screamed god-like but you knew he was anything but. 
“Speak up, now,” He taunts, voice gravelly and thick, whether it is a forced dialect or not, you hear no flaws—he sounds familiar, looks familiar, and you feel it all may be a ruse, but you don’t question it, “busy night and I’m not being paid to have my time wasted on curious little vermin like you.”
Oh, there it was.
Still, you found yourself nervous as you spoke, suddenly forgetting all rational thinking or why you were even here, scrambling before him. 
His footsteps are warning sounds against the pavement as he approaches you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before he waits, expectantly, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across his face. 
“Tick tock,” He warns, “why did you summon me, sweetheart?”
The endearment feels odd and misplaced, but it still has your insides turning in a way they shouldn’t.
“I—uh,” Your voice is feeble, unsure, “do you—do you think I’m pretty?”
He looks genuinely confused, eyebrows shooting up slightly at your question.
He’s seen a lot, heard just about everything, but this was new. And from a beautiful, timid specimen like you, no less. 
“If you want me to say yes, I will.” He offers.
He would’ve agreed anyways—he might not typical most of the indulgences with the human race, but he wasn’t blind. 
“But, really,” Another gentle touch that you find yourself leaning into, like he could hear your own desperate desires spinning around in your mind, plucking them out carefully and storing them in his own, “why have you called me here?”
“I…don’t remember,” You admit softly, “I—I—“
It’s his unnerving presence that has robbed all rational thinking, as if summoning a devil was a good idea to begin with. But, he’s standing before you and suddenly you have nothing to offer, nothing proposition him with.
Because, really, what were you willing to trade your soul for? A better life? It was impossible.
He cups your face firmly, thumbs pressing into soft, supple flesh, and really—who was he to waste such a beautiful opportunity?
He’s used to older men—addicts, drunks, men who were nothing good for this world and did more harm than good. Still, a job was a job, taking souls was the easy part.
What followed was…much more intense.
He enjoys the reaction of the pathetic people on their knees, begging for any alternative—aside from the few who have seemed more than willing. He would never press the agreement, just a solid—
“Well, enjoy your pathetic little life then.” And disappears, no flare or show.
His time wasn’t to be wasted.
Yet, here he was, tending to the sad sight of you.
“Why are you upset?” He ponders softly, feeling your body thrum beneath his fingertips, the pulse of your heart quickening. “You’ve called me here for a reason.”
“I—hate living like this,” You admit quietly, “my father, he has these values, rules, I don’t want to—I don’t understand them. He constantly compares me to other women, berates me and criticizes how I dress, how I look.”
He pauses for a moment, like he’s sifting through the rolodex in his brain, but even just a touch against your skin and he can absorb every precious memory stored away in your mind.
“Your daddy,” He grins, “religious type, huh?”
“He’s..a priest.” You admit.
Jackpot.
 “And—and he’s horrible. He—he cheated, back when my mom was still alive. She—she died a few years ago, drunk driver. But—I just—”
He feels a desire to make you better, ease this pain.
But, there are a few stipulations.
“Oh, sweetheart,” He coos, “I think I may be able to help.”
You close your eyes in relief, taking a deep breath through your nose.
Suddenly his lips are brushing against your ear and it ignites a fire inside your body, a feeling that was new and strange, exhilarating too.
“First, how ‘bout you call me Joel.” He offers, “I go by that up here.”
Right. Up here. Not down in hell.
You fight your curiosity and nod.
“Oh—okay, Joel?” You repeat curiously.
“Perfect.” He smiles, pulling back to look at you.
He feels he might be reprimanded for the idea brewing in his head.
Like, the king of hell might have a bone to pick with him. But, he was his best—there was no wrong that Joel could commit. Plus, he was feeling a little selfish. 
Someone so easily influenced, willing—who was he to pass on this opportunity?
“You’re unhappy with your life?” He inquires to confirm, planting the seed in your mind.
“Yes, very much.” You speak quietly, licking your lips briefly and catching the way Joel’s eyes track it, his own lips parting slightly.
It’s almost hard to believe that this was just a skin, that whatever was underneath had to be much more intimidating and terrifying, but you focus on his face, fearful that if you let your mind wander you might end up a sobbing mess. 
“And you would like me to make it…better?”
You nod subtly, a quick jerky movement that Joel would’ve missed had he not been paying apt attention to you.
You had potential. He could see it in your expression, pliable—teachable. It was the perfect concoction. 
“That’s a mighty big ask, sweetheart.” Joel counters, a hint of playfulness in his tone.
“Please…please, I don’t know what else to do—”
Joel shushes you comfortingly, one of the hands holding your cheek slowly moves to the back of your head, cradling it.
“Well, I could kill your daddy,” Joel offers, “but…really, that’s no fun.”
You stay silent. The idea wasn’t totally deranged, as much as you hated your father. But, you can feel Joel on the precipice of another offer, something you fear you won’t be able to resist.
“Or, you come with me.” Joel offers, a malicious grin growing across his face, “And I can make that pathetic little life so much better.”
Your eyes search his face frantically for any signs of deceit, but they show nothing but the truth.
He wants you. He wants to have you, tuck you under his metaphorical wings and make you one of his own—and you find yourself nodding before you allow your thoughts to wander or doubt to seep in.
“I—I will, please.” You beg, “Just—how does this…work?”
Oh, you poor thing.
“Well—”
“Just a kiss, right?” You wander curiously, hands fisting into the lapels of his suit—the gaudy uniform he was forced to wear when he was on earth, quite a shame.
His pointer finger traces the delicate lines of your face, his thumb rubbing against the tip of your nose, down the cupid’s bow of your lip, before pulling gently at your bottom lip, the plump flesh snapping back into its previous position.
“Not…exactly.” He responds, “This deal requires more. A solid connection.”
“So…” The words linger in the air like a suffocating blanket of mystery.
“Have you ever been fucked before?” Joel asks bluntly, your eyes widening in response.
“Um—” You hesitate briefly, “Not…no, not really.”
Well. That was a first.
“Not really?” Joel questions your wording, silently asking you to elaborate. 
It was his own curiosity getting the better of him. 
“Just..some touching.” You offer blandly, “Over—over the clothes, you know?”
Yeah. Of course. 
You were talking about your sexual inexperience to a demon who had half the mind to claim you where you stood, but here he was, curious. He couldn’t explain the intrigue he had for you, but the moment he set eyes on you, he’d had plans.
Joel offers a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, your eyes closing briefly as he moves in.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Joel reassures, “When I’m finished, you won’t feel so clueless.”
And with a deft snap of his fingers, you’re plunged into darkness.
-
You’re thankful Joel is there to catch you, knees buckling as you transverse through the planes of existence—it’s the only thing you can assume as your surroundings change in an instant.
You weren’t in the middle of nowhere Texas anymore, rather a room filled with dark, leather furniture and amenities you were almost positive Joel had no use for. No chains or torture devices like you might’ve assumed. Just a low light room that could’ve doubled as an open-floor apartment.
This must be where deals are sealed, eyeing the litany of different surfaces Joel would probably plan to consume you over, suddenly feeling completely out of your mind for taking his offer.
He senses your panic, his touch an odd comfort as he whispers, “Don’t worry, you have some leverage here.”
Even if he was lying, you relaxed slightly.
“This deal is…different.” The word feels like a ruse, but he can't find another way to explain.
“It’s not just your soul, but all of it.” He runs a hand down your face, chest, stopping at the swell of your breasts before continuing his way down, calloused fingers playing with the hem of your suddenly pristine, white dress.
No dirt or grime found, it was like the old dress had been snatched away and replaced with a new one.
“You stay here, with me.” Joel explains. “You work for me, with me.”
You stay silent, listening to his offer.
“And you will be mine.”
There it was.
“So…a partnership?” You surmise, feeling his wandering fingertips splay along your thigh, squeezing the flesh in his hands.
“Mmm,” He hums thoughtfully, “more like a mentorship.”
You nod, quickly understanding.
“There’s so much I can teach you,” Joel explains, “That I will teach you.”
His hand gropes your ass suddenly, pulling a gasp from your chest. His nostrils flare at your reaction, teeth bared under his sullen expression.
“Are you ready to offer yourself over to me, sweetheart?”
“Yeah—yes.” You reply, strengthening your resolve and answer clearly.
Joel smirks devilishly—which, in retrospect, yeah. It makes sense. But, there’s a true evil behind his eyes that you’ve yet to witness and had your insides stirring with intrigue. 
Unlike most, he was planning to take his time with you.
-
You expect things to progress with intensity, but they don’t.
Joel graciously guides you toward the couch in the room, taking a seat in the middle before guiding your legs over his lap, allowing you to take a proper seat and relax, his hands exploring exposed skin, fingertips rubbing at the thin strap of your dress snug against your shoulder and drags it down slowly, tracing his fingers along the line of your shoulder.
“Can I…ask you something?” You hesitate to speak, eyes closed as you tilt your head to the side, feeling his finger tips dig into your skin as his hand wraps around the side of your neck, his other hand busy discovering what lies beneath, performing a similar action with the strap until your dress falls to your waist, exposing your breasts.
He runs a careful fingering over your nipple, the bud hardening underneath his touch, before his eyes, and he thinks it may be the most heavenly thing he’s witnessed so far, given his course of work.
“Go on.” He responds, distracted, leaning forward to latch his mouth to your clavicle, the wet heat of his tongue pressed deliciously against your skin.
“Is this—is this you?” You ask innocently, allowing yourself a bold touch to his face, delicate fingers follow the angular parts of his face until you find your hands seeking the softness of his curls, moaning softly as his mouth ravishes your skin and bites hungrily, but playfully. “Is this your…natural form?”
Curiosity was natural. And it wasn’t the first time he’s been asked if the skin he wears is his own.
The answer is fairly simple.
“No,” He responds, “but, I prefer this. It’s much more—appealing than the other. More approachable.”
“O-Oh,” You sigh, his hands disregarding your breasts to squeeze at your waist, dragging your hips forward to feel his hardening cock underneath you, confined to his slacks but very persistent. If your soul wasn’t already gone, it definitely left your body then, “um…another question?”
Joel chuckles, toothy smile shining up at you as he watches your eyes dilate with pleasure, knowing you were enjoying this. He nods again.
“The, uh, guy—how do you—”
“Are you wondering how I came to acquire this skin?” He finishes for you.
You nod slightly, hearing the faintness of his zipper as he lifts you slightly, enough to shift his slacks down his hips to relieve some of the pressure.
“I’m really not supposed to talk about deals,” Joel drones on, but he knows he’s going to tell you anyways, “but—he was a desperate man, begging me to bring his young daughter back to life. Unfortunately, the boss has a strict policy on resurrections,” He explains, like it’s all merely a simple transaction, though to him it was, “so, he begged me to kill him instead.”
“And you did?”
Joel nods, the distinct rip of fabric as he splits your dress in half and discards it, leaving you naked aside from the thin fabric of underwear that held snug on your hips.
“Sort of. Didn’t seem fair that he went to waste,” He shrugs, “and while he doesn’t occupy this body anymore and I didn’t take his soul, I do occupy the vessel for as long as I please or until I find something better.”
Though, he’s grown fond of this disguise. Taking on his likeness and name, it made deals far more easier when people were willing to approach him. His quota are up, he was rising in the ranks, it was all looking up for him.
Normally, you’d feel the urge to hide yourself away, terrified at being gawked at so openly, but there’s a hunger behind Joel’s gaze that feeds your ego and desire, unadulterated lust behind his eyelids.
“You sucked a cock before?” He asks crudely, but then he’s tipping your chin up, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, and you can’t offer anything but the truth.
If you had lied he would’ve known in a second.
You shake your head, allowing the slow slide of his thumb past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, pulling your face forward with the leverage and your lips close around the digit instinctively.
“Sweetheart, have you even seen one before?”
There’s a lingering silence that confirms his suspicions.
“Get on your knees,” He offers, spreading his legs until he can pull his slacks off entirely, removing his jacket haphazardly, leaving him in a crisp white button up, tie still secured tightly around his neck—“Go on.”
You found yourself staring, moving obediently as he guides you to the floor, lips hung open slightly as you can feel your tastebuds yearning for a taste of him. It’s mouth-watering, really. 
His arms are spread over the back of the couch and he’s waiting, looking at you expectantly.
“Gotta lot to teach you, honey,” He tells you, “better if you learn with a hands on approach—go on and take a peek.”
You shift on wobbly knees, pulling at the waistband of his underwear—it is far from anything you’ve imagined or expected, full in girth and weight as his cock bobs heavily against his stomach, a small string of precum staining his shirt in the process. You can’t help the way your lips part, almost imagining the stretch as you’d force it to fit in your mouth.
God, would it even fit?
And the thought of it inside of you—terrifying, but still exhilarating. 
You’re doing the mental math in your head, tilting your head curiously as your brow scrunches in thought. Eight, bordering on nine inches and all thick and uncut, and well-trimmed at the base. But, the part that makes you bite your lip hard enough you can taste blood is the way he rolls his balls tenderly in his palm, almost as mouth-watering to you as the sight of his cock.
Joel knows fascination when he sees it, unrestrained and every so curious. 
He’s never encountered a virgin before, not like you. He’s dealt with inexperienced, bad etiquette, but never someone so hopelessly clueless. And yet, still so willing to learn.
You were sent to him, he thinks. Rather than he to you. There was no other way this would end.
You were his now, even without knowing.
And truthfully, that was fine with you.
Joel grins lazily, the hands fondling his balls slowly moving to his shaft, wrapping around his own girth and down his shaft in a motion that has your eyes drawing to the pink, weeping head.
“Give me your hand.” Joel instructs, extending his free hand to you and encircling his fingers around your wrist to replace his own grip, nothing in comparison to what his large hands could cover.
Testingly, you copy his motions as you squeeze your grip around his cock and mimic a slow up and down motion on his shaft, watching as the foreskin swallows the tip and then pulling back as you feel bold, pressing your tongue against the slit and lapping up the heady taste of him.
It shouldn’t feel like this. This was sinful.
“Hey, hey,” He coos, voice softening as he leans in, hand wrapping around the front of your neck and pushing you back slightly, “don’t get ahead of yourself there, darlin’.”
“I thought—”
His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, saliva spreading against the fleshy tissue and he chuckles.
“You want a taste?” He asks, earning a confirming nod from you. “Open your mouth.”
And rather than allowing you his cock, he gathers a small amount of saliva in his mouth and squeezes your own mouth open by your cheeks, spitting directly into your waiting mouth, eyes widening in disbelief. 
You were missing out on. So. Fucking. Much.
“Close and swallow,” He tells you, waiting until you listen, which doesn’t take much push on his part, noticing how obedient you were from the moment he approached you, “already listenin’ so well, sweetheart.”
He releases the tight hold on your face and slumps back into his previous position, cock held firmly in his hands as he taps them against your slack lips, nose flaring slightly as your tongue slips out, lapping at the tip gently. Swirling around the head carefully as you spread your lips, letting him feed his cock slowly into your mouth, slow enough to allow you time to adjust. Gain your bearings.
He’s being gentle, for now—he wants to push your limits. You can feel it, the way he’s restraining himself as his free hand squeezes the cushion beneath him, blunt nails scratching the fabric. 
Suddenly, you remember you have hands, feeling them lay numb and useless at your side you quickly gain your bearings and replace his hand with a soft shove and he can see your confidence grow with every solid inch you take. The soft, velvetiness of his dick so welcoming in your mouth, nudging at the back of your throat as you breath sharply pushing until it strings, eyes watering. You pull back with a soft gasp, Joel’s eyes following your movement, drawn to you with an inability to look away, and the faint string of spit that connects your lips to his head still is enough to have him cumming right there, if he wanted.
But, he wanted to savor this. To devour and take.
He gives you a subtle nod of encouragement as you return your lips to his shaft, dragging a long line from root to tip with your tongue before swirling around the tip gently and forcing him into your mouth in one go and out, again. Again. Again. Until your jaw aches with a pain that is welcomed and he seems to take notice—a solid hand cradling your jaw as he rubs at the sore spot with a gentle touch, so juxtaposed to the man he should be.
The man he was. He was holding back, for your sake.
“Can’t believe you’ve never sucked cock before,” He drones on, chin tilted down as he looked upon you, wide eyes staring back, “you wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
You shake your head honestly, mouth still stuck firmly around him as you bow your head slowly, letting him guide you further down again, stopping only when you feel the urge to gag to then trail your tongue down his sack, the heaviness of his balls weighing against your tongue, allowing the process to repeat several times until he’s satisfied, a sharp hiss through his teeth as he pulls you off roughly, hand fisting into your hair.
‘C’mere,” He mumbles, guiding you a little too harshly into his lap, groaning at the sting as he pulls you taught, lips pressing together in a messy, tireless exchange. You couldn’t even call it a kiss, just tongue and teeth and heated noises as you explore each other curiously, noting how intoxicating it felt to kiss him—the hint that maybe there was something about him that casted a spell on you, not just his charming looks and personality. It’s almost impossible to believe you were minutes away from sharing a bed with the one thing your father used to tell you to fear for your life.
And here you were, ready to toss your soul over for a fix to your life.
But, if Joel was willing to catch you, there was nothing that would stop you.
-
Joel guides you to the bed with a practiced precision, letting you fall gently as he loosens his tie, unbuttoning his shirt with quick, sharp movements, shrugging it down his shoulders—alas, allow you an unobscured view of beautiful, tan skin and imperfections. A reminder that this body was once human, that it had lived. You rise slightly, pressing up on your palms as you reach out a hesitant hand to press against his chest, the soft scratch of your nails against his stomach causing him to tense slightly, catching your wrist tightly, stalling your movements.
“Now, I could be nice about this,” Joel begins, “prep you right and let you come around my fingers first,” You perk up slightly, struggling against his hold as you felt the need to disobey, to touch him just once more, “that what you want?”
You nod hesitantly, earning an inquisitive look from Joel.
“Sweetheart, tell me you’ve touched yourself before?” 
He’d snap if you said no—it might actually break him.
“Of course.” You reply quickly, offering a fiendish smirk.
He laughs lowly at your unabashed honesty, releasing your wrist to trade for a finger under your chin, tilting your chin up slightly.
“Show me.” He purrs, “Show me how you like to touch yourself.”
His hands follow the slope of your legs as you lean back against the plush pillows, helping the spread of your thighs with the back of his hand, taking in the sight of you with fresh eyes, in all your untouched glory. Cunt glistening with a need that has been growing and growing since he first touched you, folds dripping with a slick wetness as you spread your fingers down your core and applying a gentle pressure to your clit that was welcoming, safe. It was a feeling you were familiar with. 
But, Joel doesn’t want that. 
He allows a few minutes, uninterrupted, selfishly admiring the sight of you. Head thrown back, fingers working away tirelessly as they traded between dipping inside of you for that yearned feeling of pressure, to be filled, before sliding back up to your clit, rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves until you were panting, threateningly his name hung at the back of your throat, unable to find the courage to look at him this deep in your own seek of pleasure and release.
His fingers trace but never stray to close, they stretch your limits by edging the seams of your thighs but never to the point where it breaks your concentration, but somewhere between the almost sigh of his name and his quick ascent onto the mattress as it dips slightly, his fingers are replacing your own with a deep, thankful moan.
“Joel,” You finally sigh, “oh—that’s—”
“Better?”
“So much,” You whine, “So much bigger, fuck—”
“Dirty,” He clicks his tongue, “kiss all the boys around town with that mouth?”
“Maybe,” You shrug innocently, “but—fuck—never let them fuck me, Joel.”
Joel nods knowingly as one finger becomes two, sensitive hole fluttering around his fingers and squeezing, greedy. He knows it is going to be a tight fit, difficult, but not impossible. You rest your full weight into the bed, giving up the attempt to stay upright and fight for some leverage here—it was useless with his fingers inside of you, working you over like he’s known your body for years, every touch overlapping the next and driving you mad, feeling your body shake as you neared the edge, ready to jump off and into his arms, knowing he would catch you.
But, he wasn’t going to allow that.
“Not yet, sweetheart.”
 He can sense it before you do, so in tune with your body. He grips your thighs suddenly, settling them over his hips as he leaned on his calves, pressing the head of his cock near your entrance teasingly, watching as you tensed around nothing, void of his fingers too. 
“Can’t waste the opportunity of your first time without my cock being stuffed inside you when you come,” There’s another gentle, teasing press as he slots himself more securely against your body, face cradled in his free hand as he rubs the apple of your cheek tenderly, “right?”
You nod, leaning into his touch as he pushes inside in one slow, persistent push of his hips, feeling your body shake underneath his touch, cunt already squeezing him needly, greedily pulling him in and begging for more. More. More.
He grunts softly when he’s fully sheathed inside you, settling his hands in the dips of your waist, thumbs pressed against your stomach as he pulls out to the tip, allowing another slow drag of his hips, mostly for show. 
He’s being kind. Too nice. And you don’t need that right now.
Joel laughs louder than you’re expecting, startled as he tosses his head back, picking up his pace slightly as he pistons his hips in a sharper, pointed roll. Snap. Snap. Snap.
Deeper and deeper each time. 
God, was he reading your fucking mind?
“You humans are a curious species,” He comments, “So greedy, so hateful, but there are—huh, special little beings like you.” The veins in his neck bulge as he switches positions suddenly, leaving you half folded under his willful, pliable hands, his arms barricading you in as the pace was nearing unbearable, just teetering on the edge. You yelped at the sudden change, quickly dissolving into a litany of moans as he could see the switch in your expression as he hit that special, spongy spot inside of you. “So fucking perfect.”
A glorious thing the human body was, indeed. 
“Think—think I might just have to ask my boss for a decade off,” He jokes half-heartedly, and given the context you could laugh, but you’re only slightly sure he’s joking, “keeping this pretty little pussy all to myself and fuck you until you don’t remember a damn thing.”
You don’t have words, sounds—not even a thought. The press of his cock at your cervix almost mind-numbing as you clawed at his skin, flawed but indestructible when he occupied it. 
“Not even that sweet name of yours,” He whispers it delicately in your ear, realizing that you had never properly introduced yourself but somehow he knew, “you were made for me, you know?”
Like a prophecy, destined to be fulfilled.
“Any path,” He stops briefly, voice shaky as he feels himself nearing his own end, “it would’ve led to this, sweetheart. To me.”
There’s a soft switch of something over your head, his face contorting slightly in pain as you watch through hazy, half-lidded eyes, before he’s bringing his bloody palm to your mouth.
“Wo-Woah, what—” You panic, the crimson liquid dripping down his palm slowly.
“Shhh, shhh,” He soothes, “Trust me.”
He knows you’ll take his word for it, already nodding with a surety as he raises his hand to your mouth, but he continues to talk, allowing you the reassuring words you crave.
“This bonds you to me,” He explains, “Seals the deal—no more shitty life, no more weak, poor soul to keep you tied there,” You feel the hot rush of liquid as it pours into your mouth, like a surge of power as it seeps into your tastebuds, like the strongest drug known to mankind as it filtered through your body, made you felt as if you could do anything, “it’s you—just me and you now.”
His eyes roll back as you suction your lips around the inside of his palm, moaning out a deep and strangled, “Fuuuuck—”
You’re greedy with the blood, fingers digging into his forearm as you drank hungrily, face messy with the thick liquid when he finally pulls away, leaving you in a state of dissociated euphoria. 
Floating. 
You feel the entire room fade, shifting behind him as he does the same to your own palm, a quicker and precise knick as he trades a small amount in favor of the copious amount you took from him, selfishly. 
It was intimate, too intimate. An intensity behind his eyes as they flashed a sudden shade of black as he consumed you, before quickly shifting back to their normal state, warm pools of dark honey, darkened with desire. He notices you staring at him, wandering eyes.
“Do I scare you?” He asks lowly, melting with your soft, pathetic whines.
“Nonono,” You mumble weakly, squeezing desperately around his cock, “never.”
He rests his forehead against your own, a few gentle rocks of his hips and it’s forcing you both over the precipice with little effort, guttural gasps into stale air, face mushed together as you clung to one another and panted, feeling the warmth flood between your legs as he came with a strong, forceful snap of his hips.
“Oh, baby,” He sighs, “that was—”
The room is still spinning, your mind running on a high.
“Your blood—I think it’s—” 
You can’t get the words out, his cock slipping out of you gently as he shifts, falling on the bed beside you. He grabs your wrist carefully, dragging slow fingertips up your arm, each touch like an electrical current against your skin.
“Powerful shit, isn’t it?” He chuckles softly.
You nod deftly, turning to look at him.
He looks so…normal. Like, had you met the real Joel back home, this was him.
Maybe it still was, you could never truly know.
“What…what happens now?” You ask hesitantly, “Am I—am I dead?”
Joel comforts you with a soft touch, fingers brushing your cheek as he turns you, pulls you into his chest as he follows suit and cuddles against you, still exploring your body with wandering touches, feeling every nerve-ending breathe a new life into your body.
So, not dead? You definitely didn’t feel like it.
“No,” Joel assures you, “‘Least, not really. Soulless, yes. But, your mind is still there.”
“O—okay.” You still weren’t sure what that meant.
“Memories will fade overtime,” Joel continues, “But here—with me, you’ll have leverage. Power.”
Joel traces his fingers along your chin and brings your eyes to his, “You’ll learn, I promise.” He assures, “Just a little bit of patience.”
You nod understandingly, leaning into the comforting touch he provides.
“But, in the meantime,” Joel’s eyes trace the length of your body, “there’s a lot more I can teach you, sweetheart. If you’re willing to learn.”
Luckily, you were more than willing. A wicked grin stretching across your face, and he knows then that he made the perfect choice, fate or not. This was forever.
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jymwahuwu · 7 months
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I have an idea. A self-aware au. What if Jing yuan/Blade is aware of darling's affection for him since they would log in the game and just see him and just admire them that is until Genshin drops 4.1 trailer and saw Arlecchino and Neuvillette and now they're envious of these two taking away their darling's attention.
It's just an interesting idea tho. But in actuality I'd think neuvillette and him would be friends or somewhat
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Hello, this anon has similar thoughts!! Put them together to answer >_< I think they will be really jealous of the genshin impact characters who are stealing your attention lol. Jing Yuan's jealousy is more harmless (seemingly), while Blade's is more aggressive (?)
This is my first time writing a self-aware AU, hope you like it!!
CW: yandere, self-aware au
Jing Yuan and Blade have their own lives.
When you're not with them, when you're not in front of the screen or looking at them with a smile or wonder. They are handling the work/tasks of the Seat of Divine Foresight/Stellaron Hunters. Blade, Silver Wolf and Kafka were practicing the new "destiny" script and took away another Stellaron. Jing Yuan is managing Luofu and attending meetings. How strange. Once you click on the space screen to enter the game, they can see your face. You organize your team and do daily tasks with them.
At first, they thought it was some kind of prank or a conspiracy, but over time they got used to it. In Elio's words, "The world is like a video game. No one can prove whether the world is real or false. Feeling the current destiny is the most important thing."
For Jing Yuan, he just got familiar with your personality. He confirmed that your presence would not put Luofu in danger, and that you acted like a cute kitten playing with a ball of yarn. You can control Luofu's General and Stellaron Hunter, and all you do is wander around Xianzhou and buy snacks to feed them, break every poor object on the way, fight to get some rewards, take the books on the table, etc.
You didn't forget to "build" them either. They watch you search for "Jing Yuan", "Blade", "build", "guide" and other keywords on the Internet, and take them to fight again and again to get materials to upgrade. Although they have actually participated in some wars and have terrible strength, what you see here is "lv 1-80".
You really like them, otherwise you wouldn’t pull, right? You even take photos of them while wandering around the map. Jing Yuan snickered when you took Blade to take a selfie in front of his wanted poster. The general is not shy about giving you a smile either. They know your admiration because you always take more than one photo.
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Until… recently, they noticed that you weren't online as often. At one point, you log in again, and then, as if you thought of something important, you search "genshin impact" on Youtube (they know the name of the site) and start watching trailers and special programs.
What's this?
You stared intently at those…those people. White curly bangs, long hair like a waterfall, and his gorgeous and decent attire. The other man has short black hair. He punches enemies in live. A woman with short gray and white hair smiles confidently.
Jing Yuan opened his eyes wide, not expecting you to be so "frivolous" - did you plan to be unfaithful to him? You found Jing Yuan pouting at you in the game, but you thought you were hallucinating, so you gave him immortal's delight and puffergoat milk to comfort him. Blade clicked his tongue, crossed his arms in boredom, and stopped observing what you were doing on the other side of the screen. Silver Wolf and Kafka teased him about whether he was separated from the little player? Jealous? You're surprised to notice that his damage has been doubled. While on a mission, Blade almost lost control and killed a person on the script. His eyes as red as candlelight flashed, and he almost swung down the sword in his hand.
They are all looking for opportunities to get close to you. That part of Xianzhou's large computer installation called "loom" is running, investigating and analyzing you.
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captain-hen · 17 days
Note
What do you think are the fandom ~~classic buddie fics?
i think this is a very subjective opinion, but i can tell you which fics i really love and constantly re-read—and which, in my opinion, should be read by everyone in the fandom :)
Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by @hmslusitania Rated M | 44k | Completed Summary: An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances—and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts—a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.
a bleeding sun on a silver screen by rarakiplin Rated M | 130k | Completed Summary: One day, Buck will tell an interviewer that he would be happy to make movies with Eddie Diaz until the day he dies. But first, years before that, he sees Eddie for the first time on the set of Chimney’s fifth movie. (or, the actors au)
i want your midnights by @littlespoonevan Rated T | 36k | Completed Summary: In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.
maybe we'll make something by @buckactuallys Rated E | 76k | Completed Summary: On a road trip with Christopher, Buck and Eddie finally work through their various traumas, and Eddie faces his parents again.
what a heart can do by @bvckandeddie Rated T | 86k | Completed Summary: In which Buck becomes the guardian of the daughter he never knew he had. Together, they discover what happiness truly means to them.
Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston Rated T | 40k | Completed Summary: Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)
Both Blade and Branch by @cal-daisies-and-briars Rated M | 62k | Completed Summary: The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.
we're not in love (but the sex is good) by elless Rated E | 15k | Completed Summary: Eddie is new to LA. Feeling lonely, he goes to a bar for a drink and meets a beautiful stranger that kisses like a dream. What starts as a one night stand quickly moves to frequent no strings sex. When circumstances lead to them spending time together out of bed, Eddie realizes he’s attached to Buck in a way he never planned for.
for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes Rated M | 113k | Work in Progress Summary: The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.
things we shouldn't do by Ingu Rated T | 21k | Completed Summary: The one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there.
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savnofilter · 1 month
Text
Fight For It | dabi/t. touya
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      Fantasy AU!Dabi x Bounty Hunter![FEM]Reader
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WARNING(S): sexual content, dragon hybrid!dabi, reader’s intentions for “hunting” is nothing but dubious, ego friendly fire, predator vs. prey trope, power play, barely any plot (pwp), anal, double penetration, spanking, corruption kink (?), outdoors sex, strangers -> ?.
COUNT: 4.6k words (40 mins.)
READ MORE: masterlist + [adults masterlists]
A/N: this was originally supposed to be for another character but it very much suited Dabi instead. if you can guess who this was originally for, i'll write you sum neet. 🌚 anywhom, i loveddd writing this. i had to do a lot of work shops as this has been in the vault for years, so hopefully it's readable now LOL. 😭 hope you guys enjoy!
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You check your sides and pockets ensuring that everything is ready for your travel.
This time around, dragon shifters were out and about looking for mates which meant this was the perfect time to capture one. You let out an excited breath as you pull on your boots and make your way outside of your home.
As you pass by the people in your town, you are frequently greeted due to your known status in the town. Most people jumped at the chance to have a conversation with you as there was no guarantee the next time they could. However as you got closer to the edge of the woods, the greetings slowed to a halt as the count of people started to wither out, most people avoiding the edges of the village near the forest-filled mountains. You adjust the final strap on your bag as the destination you were looking for comes into view.
Keeping an eye out for any signs of dragon shifter life, you look around the sparse but large trees that decorate the place. Many bushes, trees, and even small ponds adorned the scenery. If you happen to look close enough you could find flowers almost everywhere accompanying the organisms. Dirt and soil were also as common to come across, more so than grass in the dense part of the forest. Despite that, you continue on your quest to obtain your own little dragon. Your eyes light up as you near the bottom of the mountains and see a bigger-than-usual footstep on the floor. As if you are in no rush, you pause for a moment to squat down and pinch the dirt, fingers thumbing the soil between your forefinger and thumb before dusting it off on your pants.
One is near.
The footprint imprinted into the ground was still very fresh, the consistency too easy to grab and toy with. Surveying the scene your eyes try to find any change within the area, the need for staying on your p’s and q’s is greater than ever. You were trying to gauge what your next move should be and your indecisiveness slowing you down. You chew the inside of your lip as you start to survey the scene one last time before choosing to continue on your journey for the beast you were searching for.
Thankfully, the hybrid you were trying to find had left its footprints freely, but his marking already too cocky for your liking. Amid your busy thinking, you hear scurrying in the distance, the sound quick and heavy. You immediately whip your head around to the sound of the commotion, your hand hovering on the tip of your sword’s handle as you brace yourself for any imminent conflict. As you inch closer to the ominous spot behind the dense trees, the same noise happens in the opposite direction to the right of you. You swiftly unwield your sword and dart it towards the rapid movement, the sharp blade releasing a sharp and heavy, ‘THUNK’ as it sinks its metal into the wood.
Birds rapidly fly away in fear and other smaller animals in hiding run away in the opposite direction hoping to avoid the building tension within the vicinity. The sight of tiny strands of fur and a red liquid left swiftly in the breeze makes you wince in sympathy; accidentally hurting an unattended target was certainly not on your to-do list today. Your body is still on high alert--chest heaving as small beads of sweat accumulate on your temples, your nerves keeping you in a tense state. But unlike your anxious mood irritating you, your target was the complete opposite.
A low rumble of laughter that turns into a boisterous level prompts you to turn around and narrow your eyes at the location of the sound, eyes catching a white-haired male. You were gearing up to tell the male to fuck off before the realization hits you. The sharp teeth, horns, broad back, wild clothes -- this was the dragon you were trying to find. You watched him cautiously, keeping your eye on him as you retrieved your weapon, keeping on guard.
He lets out a few more chuckles, putting his hands up in mock surrender as he watches you point your sword toward him. “Hey no need to get defensive,” he pauses, his grin turning from playful to sly. “You humans aren’t the best at catching us most of the time.”
His words make you huff, your other hand locking on the rope that was on your hip. The white-haired male blows out a whistle, watching as your arm flexes with strong muscles and places his hands on his hips as he scans your body. You raise your brow, sheathing your sword away and revealing a grin of your own. You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side lean forward interest for the conceited specimen.
“I always catch my prey. What makes you think I won’t this time?” You respond, your words cocky, a little too much for his liking at that. His nose flares at you, back straightening before his irises narrow before he scoffs lightly.
The male’s cerulean eyes dim as they watch you intently, unashamedly checking out your frame. Your nostrils flare in anger and slowly draw your sword as a warning, a playful whistle following your threatening posture. The white-haired dragon-man takes a step closer to you, his gaze not missing you step back and cower only just slightly in your stance.
He huffs, “You could barely kill that bunny.”
“I could if I wanted to,” You’re quick to retort, your body now trying to regain its firm stance, chin raising as you openly detested him. “Just like I could have your head by tomorrow if needed.”
The same laugh that first gained your attention makes a comeback, his sharp teeth on proud display as he takes this exchange as nothing more than some flirtatious banter. “How about the next time we meet, you can attempt to catch me -- and if you do, I’ll do whatever you want. Vice versa.” He holds his hand out for you to take as a sign of agreement.
You watch his large hand out stretch itself to you, a taunting offer that a part of you couldn’t proudly admit that you wanted to take. His palm is upturned in a way that teased innocent compliance, the callous on his skin showing he isn't as playful as one would think and there's no missing the sharp nails that peek from under fingertips. With a small huff, your hand relaxes from the top of the sword and you close the distance between you two, shaking his hand firmly.
“The name’s Dabi by the way.” A surprised yelp escapes your lips as he tugs you much closer than needed, you two chest-to-chest as he stares intently into your E/C eyes. “Don’t be too disappointed when you lose, Y/N.”
Your eyes widen as he says your name, the action doing its job spooking you. You rip your hand away from his with a bit of a fight, not sure what you just have gotten yourself into. You snarl as you step back to regain the space between you two, except you made no move to be on the offense.
“Do yourself a favor and don’t hold back.” Dabi taunts, his grin matching his arrogant expression.
“Don’t plan on it.” You snort giving him one last look over as he retreats from the trees, your gaze never leaving that spot until you’re sure he’s gone. You turn around and pursue your way back to town, unbeknownst to you the pair of cerulean eyes that continued to watch your body retreat in pure animalistic hunger for you.
                     — ✮ ★ ☆ —
Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you tirelessly think about the interaction with the arrogant male from last afternoon.
Despite being one of the most known bounty catchers in the world, the way that he—Dabi as he preferred to be called—carried himself, was in a way that left curiosity and a bit of attraction on your end. You hated the way that your chest races with excitement but then glower at the thought of him. Too many conflicting emotions plagued your psyche and you needed to end this once and for all.
The air was crisp whilst the white clouds in the sky rivaled the short puffs of air you breathed out every once in a while if you held your breath in for too long. Climbing back up the same mountain wasn’t as easy as it was yesterday with the added titillation making it feel as though your heart was about to burst out of your chest. At this point, you were starting to wonder what you truly wanted from this outcome.
‘victory. this isn’t the first attractive specimen you’ll find, and it won’t be your last.’
You thought to yourself and sigh with indignation. The designated spot was already in eyeshot and you needed to get into gear if you wanted to walk out of this with your proper title over him as his owner. Absentmindedly your hand skims over the healing wound of the tree you had accidentally sliced when you had gotten startled yester-yonder, the heavy and big footprints in the soil showing that he as well made his way over not long before you.
Movement just shy to your left has you turning in its direction, this only meaning one thing: Dabi was here.
Dabi sat minding his business, humming as he watched his surroundings and toyed with the dirt in front of him mindlessly. You unsheath your sword, adrenaline making your hands lightly tremble in excitement. You adjust the sword easily in your hand moving to swing for the kill. Subtle movement catches the corner of your eyes, the focus of your target just slipping. Before it could happen, you reel back and lunge your sword towards the correct target only to softly gasp as he's gone.
You pull your sword back with the rope that’s attached to the handle, the weapon tight in your grip as you look around closely as you make eye contact with his now familiar cerulean-blue eyes making you attack once again. It wasn’t until your second failed attempt that he started laughing at you. Just like the first time you met. You growl out in frustration, trying to find him again. You try following the laugh as you messily turn around, the uncoordinated movement making you trip over your own feet but you quickly catch yourself.
‘i bet he’s just scared! he knows that you’d just capture him and make him yours.’ you completely lie to yourself to help soothe your nerves. Even you didn't believe it and now you were starting to get more than anxious.
“Damn it! Come out and stop playing!” You yell out, rage starting to finally consume you. You kept your sword up, turning sharply at the sound of crunching behind you and was met with him not too far away from you.
His handsome face was serious, arms crossed as he watched down at you unimpressed and unmoving. You feel yourself wanting to shy away from his intimidating gaze, but remember to hold up your guard. Never had you experienced a dragon that fought back like this and it honestly had you on edge.
“You’re off your game,” The dragon grins as he steps closer towards you. You tilt your chin down as you cowardly gulp in defiance, your feet taking a step back as you try to gain more distance between you two. Unfortunately for you, fighting in the woods meant you would be caged in, just like now as he closed in on you as your back hit the large oak tree behind you.
“I can still kill you if I please.” You sneer, holding up the sharp tip of your sword to his chest, eyes boring into his. Even with your strong stance and unwavering eyes, there was no denying the slight waver in your voice as you said it.
Shit.
The dragon laughs at your pathetic threat, his body language as genuine as his prideful body language. He offers you no answer as he finds no reason to entertain it. Anger shoots through your body at his arrogance, your body shifting as much as it can to pull your arm back to aim straight for his heart, wanting nothing else but to draw blood from him right in this instant.
Your sense of urgency is what fumbles your opportunity, your attack seized as though he had seen it a mile away.
With a piercing grip, he snatches your hand as you attempt to stab him in the chest, his deft fingers squeezing your wrist in a painful grip. A cry leaves your lips as you try to keep steady, your other hand grabbing him to let go as if his life wasn’t on the line.
“Let go!” You yell at him, stubborn tears now starting to prick at your eyes. It was pitiful in the way you resorted to this as your backup plan, your behavior a clear indication that you had no idea what to do. You had walked into this duel with nothing but adrenaline, curiosity, arousal, and arrogance. Instead of conducting yourself as a seasoned veteran, you were presenting yourself as a spoiled brat. Dabi ignores your plea as he takes your fighting hand and pins it firmly against the rough tree bark behind you, the rough texture digging into your clothes and skin. You bite your lip harshly to at least spare yourself some dignity, not wanting to let the smallest amount of pain get to you.
Your hand twitches in his hold as your other goes towards the direction of your thigh and grab a small knife from its holster before promptly slicing his arm. Dabi looks down at you and scoffs as he barely observes the wound before easily gripping your free wrist once again. You let out a silent cry of protest as now both hands are caught in his stronghold.
“You think that was enough to stop me? You’ve already failed, human.” He leans down to speak in your ear, his strong voice rattling through your body making you shiver. He maneuvers his hold on your wrists so that they are caught in one hand, the other moving to grip your side before running lower and rounding your back.
You glare at him and start to struggle against his hold, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you wanted him to touch more of you. He chuckles at your sounds of distaste, promising that you’d be dead if he moved any further. He bites down on the exposed part of your neck making you moan in pain and a deep blush adorn your cheeks. His slivering hand finally grabs your ass and pulls your body closer to his. He pulls away from your neck to give himself enough room to lick up the blood that was dripping from his bite. “You’re all mine.”
Without much fight from you, he leans in and presses a harsh kiss against your lips, an all-engulfing force that has you reeling in need. You groan as your head is pushed back against the tree, your pair of lips fighting against his in an attempt to gain back the confidence you had from when you two first met. The mix of the coppery taste of your blood on your tongue adds a toxic aphrodisiac you can't place your finger on, wanting to taste more of yourself on his tongue in other ways. Your eyes lid as you two maintain eye contact through the kiss, the heat between you two ramping up as both of you have something to prove.
“Still tryna win, human? Are you gonna do whatever I tell you to?” Dabi ridicules you once he pulls away and tightly grips your jaw. The force makes your cheeks squish while your bruised lips pout. He leans in to press his lips against yours again as an open mouth kiss, his tongue invading your hot cavern and playing with your tongue. You moan into his handling, your wet muscle barely managing to put up a fight. You helplessly try to chase his lips when he pulls away, the action making him chuckle. “Turn around.”
He lets go of your hands as he allows you to move and notes the way that you slightly flinch from the harsh pressure suddenly being released. Though you quickly shrug it off, more than willing to turn around like the slut that you are. Grinning at your desperation he steps away from you to allow room to turn you around, and seizes your hands in his hold except this time behind your back when you’ve assumed the position. Dabi bends you over some and admires your curves finally up close and freely gropes at your ass. It’s shameful in the way that feeling his calloused hand grope and rub at your globes has you pressing against him, your needy action eliciting a spank from him. You whine out his name as he pulls down your pants, your juices darkening the material between your legs.
“Do you normally act this needy when you lose, hm?”
SMACK, another spank was delivered to your bum. Your eyes roll back when he gives you another and a harsher one to follow until you respond.
Your eyes prick as he taunts you, your legs trembling in need. Contrary to your own knowledge, Dabi was perfectly aware of your track record with beasts. To humans and other “dainty” species, you were known for your combat and prowess but amongst the more gritty creatures have shared more than a few whispers about your sexual endeavors. You turn your head and glare at him, tears and all as blood rushes to the skin of your bruising ass and flustered skin. Just as you were one not to lie, you deflect the implications of your winning and losing rate. “Do you normally take this long to fuck?”
SMACK.
Instead of his hand holding your hands above your head, he lets them go and lets you catch yourself against the uncomfortable tree. With one hand now placed on the side of your head, he holds you in place as he tugged down your underwear, no longer wanting to toy with what he desperately needed to claim as his. “I’m the one who won, remember?” Dabi growls as he grows impatient with your bitching, his hot hand reaching down to cup our sex and letting his two fingers rub at the sensitive nub at the top of your cunt.
The smell of your arousal was taunting him heavily. Dabi had never considered a human as his first option to fuck but you were bringing out a new side to him. The sickening thought alone made him grow impatient as he was more than ready to defile your cute body. Most humans don't fuck back, but you certainly looked like the type and that thought alone was riling him up. Evidently just from the way you were acting, you couldn't help yourself grinding back against him like that. At first glance you seemed like some brute snob, untouched and pompish. But here you were already gong-ho over some dragon dick you have yet to experience; acting so desperate and needy for him. His lips curve into a devilish grin as he marvels at the way your back arches as the arousal gets to you.
“Fuck, Dabi please.” You plead shamelessly as he slips his fingers up and down your folds to collect your slick, helping lube up your opening for his cock. He spits on his fingers to make it more slippery, not wanting to rush the prep as much as he'd love to have your pussy engulf his cock. He shushes you as he leaves his grip on your head to grab your jaw, making you look at him as he rubs at your cunt.
“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me prep you, pet.” He emphasizes his point by teasing at your opening with the tip of his finger then sinking his middle finger into your cunt. His cock twitches at the sensation of your gummy walls squeezing around the digit as strokes the inside of your kitty carefully. He groans and leans back to look at your pussy enveloping his finger, eyes happily drinking in what he’s seeing. “Knew this pussy was hungry for this.”
Your pants are heavy, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers as he continues to work it in and out of your dripping cunt. Dabi made sure to keep his hold on your jaw tight while his other got to work which allows you to brace your hands against the trunk of the tree with your hands now free. His thrusting stops to rub the outside of your lips, spreading your natural juices as lubricant and periodically brushing against your clit before his fingers are fucking themselves into you again. Your face was covered in bruises to some degree as you couldn’t help but keep your face against the tree bark -- not that you could care less, though. A wanton whimper leaves your lips feeling his hand completely leave your opening, making way to release himself from his pants.
He uses the slick from your wet cunt to help lubricate his lengths. He prods the first against your opening and groans lowly from how different the fit of your human pussy compared to other dragons. You felt your eyes burn with tears, his size bigger than you’re used to. You squirm against him only for him to command you to calm down. He spits another time as he works his hips into yours to open you up better, the action working as you produce more slick and loosen up as the moments pass. You feel his finger mix the spit and slick on your asshole, not shying away from playing with your chocolate starfish. He slips in his thumb to tease your opening, the play not phasing you one bit. It wasn't until you feel his finger enter you followed by experimental strokes is when you notice what's up. You suck in your breath, tensing up completely when his finger exits only to feel another head prod at your asshole.
You gasp from the intrusion of his second cock entering you. Your nails dig into the tree and you're consequently returned the favor as your hands sting from gripping onto it for dear life. You had never taken anything of his size in that entrance and you could tell he was enjoying the squeeze by how much he was throbbing in you. He breathes out curses into your neck, reminding you of your place and how tight you wrapped around him. Never had Dabi contemplated wanting to mate a human until now, the feeling like nothing he had felt before.
“You’re taking me so well, fuck.” Heavy and sloppy thrusts are met against your ass. The way of his thrusting signifies the animalistic side of him, the easing of his cock into you was nothing short of barbaric and drowning in pure pleasure. As he worked his hips better into yours.
It felt as though he was already accustomed to you and you loved it. The length and girth of his cock was filling a void you didn’t know you needed, and you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to come back from it.
“How’s it feel to be fucked by a dragon, heh,” The dragon huffs out and works more of his length into your battered pussy and ass. Your sopping cunt and tight ass was starting to take his cock easier and easier the more he fucked you. His hands bored from only holding you in place soon move to tug up your shirt and grope at your tits, hands roughly fondling your mounds as if he had no rhyme or reason.
“Da… Dabi..!” You moan out, ass and pussy still clenching tight around him. He moans enjoying how you say his name before HISSing at the fact you were almost squeezing him too tight. Dabi refused to take his eyes off the area where your bodies joined, deeply engrossed by the way his cocks disappears to the hilt as he fucked your tight holes.
“Fuck you’re squeezing me so tight little pet!” He exclaims excitedly, teeth to mark up your neck once again. Dabi hums in delight, hands roughly kneading your breasts. He tugs on your nipples craving the thought of wanting to know what your nipples would taste like against his tongue. Or even if he did so choose to breed you, how full, plump and ready you’d look -- all just for him.
Your vision blurs as the only thing on your mind is to relish in the pleasure you were receiving, hips riding back against his as you chase your climax. You were nothing but a vessel for your pleasure, not giving shit about him either. The all-consuming experience was successfully eating you up and you loved every second of it. If it meant being “his” pet, then so be it.
When he hits a certain angle in your holes, you shake as ecstasy shoots through our body. Your already breathier sighs and moans from your stolen breath now deepens into loud and sluttier sounds, your orgasm finally imminent. You start to babble not wanting nothing more than to finish on this dragon’s cocks.
“Please, please, Dabi-” You mewl. “Cum, need it.” You whine as you feel the familiar coil in your stomach tighten, the slick running down your thighs aiding in the ability of letting him thrust within you.
Dabi shushes you as he grabs both of your elbows and holds you up himself. He uses you like a pussy pocket as he starts to chase his release as well, needing to finish inside you just as much as you wanted to finish on his cocks. “Gonna breed you, s’that what you want, pet? Tell me what you need.”
“Fuck I need you to cum in me..!” You moan out, feeling your stomach coil to signify the impending orgasm that is about to hit you. Without needing any further excuse he grips your arms impossibly tight as he pummels into you, his hips bruising your backside as he drives you over the edge.
With a final thrust, he bottoms out inside you, relishing in the feeling of emptying his semen. A deep growl reverberates in Dabi’s chest as he finishes, his muscles only relaxing when he starts to empty. He holds you in place as you have no other choice but to take his stuffing, the amount so copious it starts to spill from your openings.
Dabi slowly lets you go as he pulls out, cocks flaccid and messy. He bends you over to look at your creampied holes, hands spreading your cheeks to get an unobstructed view of it. He gives your pained cheek an appreciative smack, snorting when you groan in pain at the feeling. The dragon stands back up and yanks at your hair, the unnecessary action making you whip your head around to glare at him, only to be met with a proud grin with his sharp teeth on display.
“You’re mine now, pet.”
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seabirdtxt · 1 year
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man idk why but i just kinda want to make creator! reader's backstory SAD like they were tortured (?) just to keep the rest of humanity/teyvat safe.. like i am a SUCKER for sad/traumatic backstories!! just a little brainrot i need to get out!!
i'll keep this short and sweet i told myself. lmao. i forgot i'm a sucker for easy angst
Blood of God
Notes: Sagau cult au, cut-based injuries, blood sacrifice. bunch of fun stuff. Reader is the Creator, golden blood, etc. read at your own discretion
WC. 976
----- ⚘ -----
When you first descended into Teyvat, You were initially met with praise and celebration. Countless festivals were held in Your name. Your beloved characters, Your acolytes, were the first ones in line to beg for Your blessings.
That's when everything started to go downhill.
With the realization that Your physical presence in the world meant no more divine guidance, Your acolytes grew desperate for Your blessings. Blessings that You, as a mortal human being, could not grant. Not to the same degree that You used to, when You played the game and bestowed buffs and upgrades aplenty to all Your teams, and generously ascended even those You didn’t have plans for.
But now, even as You stand before them in flesh and blood, Your godlike abilities have been reduced to mere party tricks. You spoke to the animals, and twisted the breeze. You made flames dance with a single gesture, and grew pretty flowers in your footsteps. None of this helped the acolytes, though.
Interest in Your well-being, in You, dwindled. Your acolytes wished You well, the rare few even questioning Your divinity, and sent You on your merry way.
Abandoned and unarmed in a world full of hostile creatures, You took up jobs with the Adventurers Guild. First, it was fetching and delivering goods for the city citizens. Then, it was carrying messages across the countryside from town to town. Lastly, it was picking off monster camps that strayed too close to civilization.
This is where a few of your acolytes found You, injured and bleeding brass-coloured ichor into the dirt and swinging wildly with Your adventurer’s sword.
Deity or not, Your acolytes were not ones to stand idle while another was put in harm’s way. Into the fray they jumped, and fought by Your side despite their reservations about You.
In the heat of the battle, the acolytes noticed something strange. Those sprayed with Your blood were given increased strength and capability for a short while, until the stain dried and wore off.
Encouraged, they investigated further. Using some of Your blood as war paints extended the duration of the blessing by nearly double, coating their weapons with it would increase the effectiveness of their strikes, and a brave few discovered that ingesting it would boost them all-around for the entirety of the day.
Harken, and rejoice! For irrefutable proof of the Creator’s benevolent presence has been revealed! And You, desperate for their love and acceptance, gave it to them without question.
A beautiful, elaborate temple was built in Your honour, with ceremonial blades scattered throughout the decor and deep channels filled with ever-flowing ambrosia running across the floor. As Your holy blood continued to be spilled, the hue of it began to run a shimmering gold.
Those who sought Your blessings need only visit you in Your temple, bringing offerings of kill trophies and unearthed relics. Then, they would partake of Your divinity by their choice of method, dipping their reverent hands in the rivers of ichor that pulse across the temple grounds.
You haven’t stopped bleeding in months.
It was bearable at first, when the first time the channels were filled You were pleased to discover that they would not run dry for some time. When the acolytes came for lessings, you would only need to refill the trenches every few days.
You asked if they could bring You softer offerings, of sweet foods and thoughtful bouquets. Such shows of softness were dismissed with a laugh. What need did you have for plants, when the strength you gave them could afford you even the rarest and most difficult trophies to obtain?
But the Abyss came. Celestia’s wrathful gaze descended. Your acolytes were fighting a war on two fronts.
They came on their hands and knees, emptying your stores quicker than you could refill them. Eventually, you took to sitting in the golden throne with your preferred blade, sluggishly carving yourself open to ensure the continued survival of your beloved acolytes.
It wasn’t enough.
Please, they begged. Give us the strength You once were able to grant. Show us the stars in your eyes and in your blood once more, that we might fight and win in Your name.
Filled with fear, and hurt, and love, you gave them everything you had left.
Their lips and teeth stained with brilliant auric gore, they took to the fields once again. The Abyss fell before them, the cursed beasts of the land fell into disarray and fled into the winds. Celestia conceded victory.
The acolytes cheered and danced in the aftermath of their slaughter. Eager to show their renewed devotion, they returned home to You.
But Your temple had crumbled, and the deep wells that once held Your pulse have turned to dust. Your blessing was but glittering sand in their mouths as they sort through the rubble to find any traces of You.
There was no way to know who broke first. Your acolytes realized too late the price for Your continued generosity, and squandered Your love on chasing strength and war.
Your temple was rebuilt with petals replacing every blade. The grooves filled with the soil that was steeped with the blood of the fallen, and flowers of all shades of vibrant, terribly human red grew there.
Dendrobium and Mourning flowers. Even the azure Sea ganoderma bloomed in rare patches where water pooled deeper.
Had they loved You as a human and not as a seemingly bottomless resource, would You have stayed? The thought of such a question shamed them. You asked for their love and they’d given You their blades. You asked for sweets and they’d brought you the bones of their enemies.
And yet, You wanted to stay. Even as they literally bled You dry, You had only ever wanted their happiness, no matter the cost.
And heavy was the cost.
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