#so all that is fucking her up! caused scarring from using her powers!

[lovedeltaa]

thinking about my little meow meow

sol emeralds and sol energy fucking her up 😱

#sth #blaze the cat #au stuff #me n my friend have crafted lore for the sol emeralds #cuz there's literally nothing canonical lmao #they're like foils to the chaos emerald #and simultaneously reflecting blaze's personality vs sonic's #so they're like chaos vs order here #I luv the hc that chaos energy spurs the growth of plants and flowers #and it's important in this au #so the sol emeralds sorta do the opposite #cause destruction and wilt and kill any surrounding plantlife etc etc #sonic's beauty of chaos vs blaze's downfall via order #u feel me #and her powers are 'fueled' by sol energy ig #I'd need to dissect my brain to truly explain wtf I mean by all of this #but in essence the sol emeralds don't like anyone and barely tolerate blaze LMAO #must maintain the order and stability quite literally to a fault #so all that is fucking her up! caused scarring from using her powers! #so the bangles r to help regulate and disperse that energy so the scarring doesnt really go past the wrists #ok bye i'm talking too much here sry #luc arte

[readychilledwine]

Lollipop pt 2

Summary - Azriel and Seraphina Vanserra will take what happened between them after the High Lords Meeting to their grave. Well, at least her father's grave.

Warnings - NSFW, oral (f rev), fingering, degradation, Dom sub dynamics, power play, shadow play/bondage, praise kink, corruption kink, use of pet names, 😻 slapping, spanking, overstimulation, Azriel being a fuck rabbit, dumbification, cock warming, virginity loss, orgasm denile, implied anal and throat fucking, a very rough first time.

An - so.... this was supposed to post at 1pm my time 😒 evidently I drafted it instead of hitting schedule post. Low key thought you all hated it and I failed. Anyways! Forgive me 💜 and don't worry, you'll still get two smut corruption pieces today, though. Ps if you see mistakes, you don't.

Read Part One Here

Seraphina rocked back in her heels as he circled her like a hawk, a small smirk playing on his face as shadows broke her skin out in chills. “How lucky am I,” he moved closer to her back, “to have such an eager, pretty mate.”

She was beautiful. Smaller than he normally liked, but he knew from Eris that Beron kept her food very controlled to prevent her from gaining weight.

Which was a damn shame in Azriel's mind. The more curve, the better, and he would change that once she was his and his alone.

His scarred hand ran up her dress before gently wrapping around her throat, testing the waters instead of diving in head first. Seraphina, in return, whimpered loudly, the scent of her honeyed arousal coming into the air. Her hands found his thighs, gripping for purchase as she tilted her head back, allowing him, and his hand, more access. “Good girl,” he praised her softly, kissing below her pointed ear. “You know how to tug the bond, right?”

“Yes.”

Azriel kissed her bare shoulder before correcting her, “Yes sir.” Serphina nodded, watching him from the mirror. Her eyes widened at the feel of something cold and sharp on the base of her spine. “Breathe,” he kissed down her neck, and in one swift movement cut her dress enough to be able to rip it off.

She was calm throughout his testing of the waters. He rose a brow at her deep breaths. “You aren't afraid?”

She shook her head, her heart racing as hazel eyes met hers in the mirror. “What exactly do you plan to do to me?”

His shadows seemed to thicken and his eyes darkened as he stared at her in the mirror, placing that sharp dagger back into it's holster. “Everything,” he growled before gripping the back of her neck and turning her into a heavy kiss.

It was electric. It was passionate. It was fire meeting shadows. Dancing together as her hands found stability and purchase on his chest after her dress fell.

He backed her to the bed instantly. Growling as he shoved her back and was instantly on her body again.

He had waited years for this. Years for a mate, an equal. The fact that he would be her first. That he would be the one to ruin her and corrupt her was just a bonus.

Bites and kisses started going lower down Seraphina's body, making her shiver. Azriel bit down on her neck, causing her back to arch and a soft whine to leave her mouth. Her hand tried shooting to her lips, hoping to trap the noises in just for shadows to rip her arms away from her, locking them above her head in a vise like grip.

Azriel tutted her softly. “Do you want to be my good girl?” She nodded eagerly, arching into his shadows and hands as they roamed her body. “Words or we stop.”

“Yes sir,” his own heart fluttered at her submission, at how quickly she was taking her role.

“Then let me hear everything. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel.”

“Yes sir.”

“And stop looking away. I want you to watch what I'm doing to you.”

She nodded again, lip pulled between her teeth as his kisses reached her breasts and his warm tongue began to play with her nipple. The soft moan that left her lips was music.

Her body was a harp, a fine tuned instrument just waiting to be played, and for once, Azriel truly felt he was a musician. He wanted to cherish her, to show her how she as his mate would spend her life treated and worshipped.

But then his mind flashed back to her pretty mouth wrapped around that candy, to her visual fantasy Rhys had happily put into his mind the second it started, and all that hope went out that window.

His sole mission was to ruin her. To ensure no other male would bring her to the brink of pleasure over and over and over the way he could. And Azriel never failed a mission.

Kisses became soft bites, making gasps and moans fall from pretty parted lips and Seraphina's amber eyes to roll back. She thought he was going to kill her. He had hardly touched her and she knew she was soaked. She knew that coil would snap within moments of him doing anything to her. A pained whine came as his teeth sank into the inner side of her right breast, bruising and marking the soft untouched skin there before turning and marking the left the same way. “Mine,” he growled causing more heat to shoot through her body. “All mine.”

His kisses began to trail lower again. Mouth coming to a halt above her center as he looked at her. “Also. Fucking. Mine.”

Azriel did not give her a chance to respond, a chance to understand what was about to happen, and that first lick had her jaw fall open, head going back to the pillow and an almost scream like whine leaving her mouth. He wasted no time, instantly feeling that noise shoot to his cock and began eating her out like it was his last meal. Every nudge of his tongue in her center, on cilt, in her folds had her moaning, arching, pulling at his shadows as they restrained her tighter, holding her wide open and completely under Azriel's control.

His hands dug into her hips, leaving bruises there instantly as well as he groaned into the taste of her before wrapping his lips around that swollen bundle of nerves and focusing a ruthless attack there. He watched her under hooded lashes as she arched, as she cried, as the foreign feeling brought tears to her eyes and began to ruin her mascara.

She'd cum just from this. Just from his tongue rolling her pretty clit, circling it, pushing down on it. She'd cum for the lightest touches. And that got him off. It made him feel like a God.

Sera felt her eyes roll back again, an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach as her breathing and moaning picked up. She needed something, needed more. “Please,” she began to beg, her voice breathy and desperate as he began fucking her core, stretching her slightly with his tongue. “Sir, please. I-”

He pulled away, a hand quickly striking her pussy before rubbing gently to soothe her. “Good girls do not beg, pet. Are you a good girl or a whore?” He glared at her slightly as she whined before smacking her again. “if you want to be treated like a fucking whore, then I will treat you like a whore.”

He turned her, allowing his shadows to restrain her on her stomach with a limb towards each corner of the bed. He placed a pillow under her hips, positioning her ass and pussy in the perfect spot for him before waiting to see if she tugged the bond, if this was too much. Her hips wiggled instead, trying to sneak attention from that trapped pillow.

He sent a silent prayer and thank you to the Mother, to the Cauldron, to any deity listening, and then he spanked her.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Watching as her milky pale skin turned bright red for him, watching as she began dripping for him. “You are a fucking whore, aren't you? Getting off on me spanking you.” He spanked her again, watching as her legs began to shake. “Are you going to cum from me spanking you?”

Shame should have filled her then and there, but it didn't. She should be ashamed of herself. She had always been taught sex was not for her. It was for the male. Her sole job was to please him and him alone. Yet here she was, seconds from finding absolute bliss as her mate did nothing more than treated her like a babe in need of punishment.

Azriel brought both hands down on her ass, and watched as she screamed, body jolting and her tight hole clenched around nothing. She came screaming his name, tears streaming down her face. He ran his hand up and down her back, slowing her breathing through the High before running his hands back to her pussy and feeling those soaked folds.

“You have to relax,” he warned gently as she stiffened. “If you don't relax, I will end up hurting you, and I don't want to hurt my perfect pet, do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Sera tried relaxing. Focusing on the humming bond. On his amusement, his pleasure in seeing her like this. She whimpered as two fingers ran from her clit to her whole, lubricating those thick scarred digits in her nectar.

Azriel pushed his middle finger in. He felt his own eyes roll back, imagining the feeling of her soft tight walls on his cock as she let out a breathy moan. He began pumping immediately, not giving her time to adjust and then inserted a second finger before leaning over her to put his hand in her hair and pull, forcing her to arch her back more as she began to cry again. “Gonna feel so good on my cock, pet. So fucking tight and warm.” The praise warmed her immediately. Another wave of heat and wetness flowing through her. “This pussy is mine, you hear me? You are mine. You belong to me.”

Seraphina felt her heart flutter at that. At the idea of being his and his alone. At the idea of no one else stretching her like this. Her walls began to twitch as he found a spot he had been searching for and began to ruthlessly curl and thrust his fingers in to it.

She was soaking the pillow, her thighs, his hand. Azriel's shadows began to remove his clothing, freeing his aching cock and allowing him to stroke it in time with his fingers. Sera was panting again, her hips trying to meet his hand only to be held in place as he felt her approaching the edge again.

Before she could, he pulled away, landing a harsh spank on her bruising ass before standing and removing his leathers completely.

“All in one or gently. Pick now.” His desperate voice sent a wave of power through Sera. The idea of him being this worked up for her while she did nothing but submit to his will make her glow with feminine pride.

“Just fuck me.”

He was surprised by the answer, hand coming to use her juices as lubricant on his cock before he got behind her with a dangerous grin. “I'd tell you to hold on to something, but it appears your hands are a little preoccupied.”

It was pleasure, pain, completion, everything. Sera felt herself fall into shock before a loud wailing moan filled the room along with the scent of her Maidenhood breaking.

Azriel's hand gripped the sheet next to her head as he too let out a pitched moan. She felt exactly as he had imagined. Warm, velvety walls pulsed around him. He gave a gentle teasing thrust, watching as her mouth fell back open. Her make up always ruined, her hair a mess, body littered in bites and bruises.

He had not been gentle with her once tonight, and he was about to start now unless she asked. He placed a foot solid on the bed and grabbed her waist. Then he began.

Seraphina saw the heavens when he moved. His thick cock dragging in and out of her, lighting every inch and nerve on fire as she could do nothing more than lay there moaning and crying out for him.

Her walls were twitching, begging for release instantly as they pulled him in deeper and deeper. He was going to fuck her into two pieces. She hadn't even had the chance to look at his cock, but Gods she felt it. She felt it brushing her cervix with each thrust. She felt it hitting places healers didn't even have names for yet. She felt it pulling her apart inch by inch until she was the perfect sleeve for him.

Azriel watched as her eyes fluttered shut, a small smile forming on her face, and she began to drool slightly.

He had fucked her dumb this easily. Fucked every brain cell from her and rendered her completely to his will.

Seraphina would be easy to train. Easy to make his personal whore. His perfect little mate, his perfect little wife, his perfect cock sleeve, always ready, dripping, and eager for him.

He fucked her until dawn broke through the window. Taking her cunt, her throat, her ass. He came on her face, inside of her, on her tits. She was soaked in his seed, her essences, his and her sweat.

He held her tight in the tub. Bouncing her on his cock as she sat in his lap crying from overstimulation. He released into her again, triggering another orgasm from her that left her in a silent scream and whimpers. He didn't allow her off, forcing her to sit chest to chest with him and warm his cock.

No words passed between them.

No words needed to.

When she tried to speak, he pushed two fingers into her mouth. “We will talk when master is ready. Am I understood, whore?”

She nodded, gagging as the digits pushed in further and maintaining eye contact like he had taught her. He hardened inside of her tender abused cunt again. And he lifted her off and turned her.

The slow realization hit her. 12 orgasms wasn't enough.. 8 hours wasn't enough. Her mate was insatiable.

And she was all too happy to just be used.

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel #Azriel x innocent!oc #azriel x vanserra!oc #azriel x oc #azriel acosf

[tang3r1n]

for @hystixia cause i just had a beautiful brain fart idea 💡

18+, dub/non con, breaking n entering, oral (m->f), jeff being gross, fingering, specifically chubbier reader!!

jeff but with a cute lil shy, chubby GEEKY bitch who wears blue light glasses cause she constantly glued to her phone and laptop. so much so she doesn’t even notice him following her in broad daylight, too engrossed in her latest internet obsession to notice him softly busting open her window and slipping in, definitely not paying attention to him and he slowly walks towards her innocently sinful form splayed out comfortably on her bed, headphone blaring an obscure anime intro so loud he can head the lyrics.

he brandished his signature knife n rips her away from the hypnotic blue hue of her screen, big ol’ doe eyes shining from the glare of her glasses as he grins maniacally and stares down at her, all comfy in her loose, worn t-shirt and skimpy skimpy shorts. he groans as she instantly starts begging, cock already throbbing in his tight jeans at how adorable her sweet pleading sounds.

jeff with a cute chubby geek who promises she won’t tell anyone if he just leave— even when he’s ripping her obviously sentimental short in two and using his (most likely bloody) knife to slice her shorts dangerously close to the puffy little prize between her thick thighs. he feel his body practically vibrating with pleasure at the sight of her fat jiggling while she pathetically squirmed as sobbed, horrified and knowingly docile in the face of his terrible, terrible evil.

jeff who folds his lil cute geek in half and dives into her chubby pussy, nose clumsily bumping against her little gem as his impossibly long tongue barged its way past her tight hole. the sensations were too much for his geeky loser, she thrashes more harshly now, whining and trying to push him off. his scars, marred and mangled as they were, tickled her thighs and his blunt nails dig in so hard they left thin trails of blood that slowly slipped past his pale hands and onto her bedsheets as he devoured her.

the disgustingly salacious noises of him eating her cunt made his geek’s tummy flutter as she felt queasy and horny all at once, body betraying her mind as she fought not to come apart in his heinous hold.

jeff who finger fucks his chubby loner so hard the slap of his palm against her sore clit made her arch, a stripe of pain shooting up her slide alongside the traitorous feeling of pure pleasure. he cooed down at her softly, uncharacteristically gentle as he brushed the stray hairs out of her face and fixed her glasses on right. it didn’t last long, the soft touch, as soon he grabbed her jaw and forced her to kiss his bloody, slick covered lips, pulling away just to hock and spit in her mouth.

jeff who loves loves loves it when she finally ums around his slender fingers, three shoved deep in her plush pussy walls as she convulsed around them, her mind finally giving into the forceful pleasure. eye rolled back, back arched beautifully, heavy breasts, thick thighs, and soft tummy shaking with the power of her rushed orgasm as he slowed his hand, massaging the soft walls of her now sticky cunt as she calmed down.

in her post-nut haze, she failed to notice him slipping his fingers out, already dozing off as she disgustingly sucked them clean, using the same fingers to repeat the process a few more times, obsessed with how his chubby geek’s cunt tasted on his villainous tongue.

he grinned as she snores softly, quickly snapping a photo of her disheveled self before pocketing a random pair of dirty (he can only hope) panties and slips back out into the night, locking her window back and leaving his mark on her window frame so no one else can perv on his cute, shy lil chubby geek <33

#got a lil wild with this ehh #[‘v33nxs’ updated her blog!] #[‘jeff’ stopped to say hi!] #jtk smut #creepypasta smut #jeff the killer #jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer x chubby reader #x chubby reader #yandere jeff the killer #yandere creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #yandere #yandere jtk #yandere x chubby reader #[‘v33nxs’ left a gift for ‘hystixia’!]

[charliedawn]

Okay Charlie hear me out on something, and I’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s not a request it’s more of an idea or thought. (It might be dark idk)

Let’s say the nurse went to a different sanitarium, and the patients she treated were horrible towards her, what do I mean? I mean like they were all a group. Each and every one of them broke her down and she just accepted it. They played around with her like a doll didn’t care about her, they used her for anything and she accepted it. It took a lot for her to leave all of that toxicity leaving mainly scars on her back. Once she came to St. Louis (if I spelled it wrong correct me)

Obviously, she thought the same thing would happen, until the slashers actually started to like her and treated her differently. Sometimes she’ll flinch thinking they’ll hurt her like the others did but will play it off, until maybe…idk pennywise or anyone else who has mind powers finally goes in her head to see what happened, or maybe one of them catch her with the scars on her back. like when she first arrived she was all stone cold until she slowly opened up a little more. She promised herself to never cry in front of people but them confronting her about it just made her emotional since she felt worthless and used at that time and knowing they care means a lot

Like I said just a thought I had and would see what you’d like about it.

The slashers knew that you had transferred from another mental hospital before coming to St Louis. They just didn’t know how bad it was until one day…The scars showed and some of the staff members started gossiping about it. Soon, all the patients knew of what had happened, and they decided to try and see the scars for themselves…Not expecting how bad they were.

Jason saw them when he asked you to give him a bath. You rolled up your sleeves and he noticed familiar marks on your body.

But, you weren’t the only one being exposed.

Jason normally never showed his scars to anyone but his mother. But once in the bath, you eyes traveled along his scars. There were ugly red angry scars. He was covered in them.

You didn’t say anything, he didn’t either.

You just kept washing his hair and he stared at the ceiling—barely giving you a few glances from time to time. He could see that the scars weren’t only on your arms. He could see they were going far beyond what he could see.

When you were about to leave, he surprised you by grabbing the hem of your shirt and looking at you with pleading eyes.

You knew what he was asking for. Your eyes stayed locked and even though he didn’t utter a word, you had learned to understand him without the need for him to speak.

You sighed before wordlessly raising your shaking hands to your collar as you started unbuttoning your shirt. As you went along, his eyes stayed glued on you—watching intently as each scar was revealed to him.

He was actually surprised to find that you had almost as many as him. But unlike him…His eyes lowered a little…You weren’t even a killer.

He wanted to speak. It was the first time he wished he could actually speak and find the words to make it all alright. But the moment he looked up, you were already gone…

Freddy Krueger :

"…You don’t need to hide them."

You stopped dead in your tracks before turning around to face Freddy with a slight frown of incomprehension.

"…What ?"

He tilted his head and for the first time, Freddy wasn’t smiling. He eyed your body up and down and leaned forward.

"You can try to cover them up all ya want, sweetheart. The scars ain’t gonna poof out of existence just cause ya want them gone. Believe me from experience. So, if ya wanna hear my advice ?" He crossed his arms over the table and laid his chin on them before looking straight at you. "…Be proud of them. Wear them like a fucking flag and make fuckers shake in their boots cause ya too damn badass for them to break ya."

You stayed silent as you kept looking at Freddy and you smiled—your eyes softening as you realised that Freddy was trying to make you feel better.

"Thanks, Freddy. You’re pretty badass too."

He huffed a laugh—but his eyes showed more than his smile as he replied.

"Yeah. Right. Be grateful you can hide the scars and don’t look like an overused chewing gum…" He grins. "Besides, haven’t ya heard ? Scars is the new sexy."

You laughed and shook your head.

"Right. Then you must be the god of sexy."

He smirked.

"Oh, honey…~Of course I am."

Brahms Heelshire :

You were playing dress up. Brahms had insisted you play with him and wanted to dress you up with some of the dresses Barry had made.

He waited for you to change, but he couldn’t help to take a sneak peek at you—an old habit from his days hidden in the walls of his old house.

But, he didn’t expect to see the subtle rivers of red scars running down your back. He stayed shocked for a few seconds and it gave you enough time to notice his reflection in the mirror.

You quickly turned around and he could see it in your face. You were upset.

"Brahms ! I said not to look ! Bad boy !"

In normal circumstances, that last part would have made him whimper and beg for your forgiveness. But, not this time. This time…Brahms seemed to realise that you had a past he knew nothing about and suffering he would probably never be able to understand.

He came in and hugged you tightly.

You were about to speak up when he beat you to it.

"You look really pretty…"

Your eyes widened at the compliment and you didn’t know what to say. You knew he was talking about the dress and how it looked on you—but you still started crying. You embraced him back and for once, Brahms was the one to comfort you as he held you in his arms and couldn’t seem to find any other way to reassure you but to keep complimenting you and hoping that if he said it enough, you would end up believing it…

Michael Myers :

Michael noticed the bandages around your wrists and the fact that you seemed to hide your body with sweaters and jackets…He knew.

Of course he knew.

But, he didn’t ask at the beginning because well…He didn’t care enough to ask. And then, he started to care. And that made him afraid. Because Michael Myers always kills the people he cares about. And he didn’t want to kill you.

But, he could see your suffering and the fact that nobody else seemed to understand or even notice your pain was driving him insane. Until, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He grabbed your wrist and as you were about to ask what was going on, he dragged you back to a room. Once you were alone, he wrapped his arms around your waist and whispered.

"Show…me."

You didn’t understand at first, not until he started pulling on your sweater and lift it just enough for his hands to touch the scars.

Your eyes widened in shock and fear as you tried to push him away.

"No, Michael ! No !"

But, he didn’t listen. He would see them. He would feel them. And he would heal them…Because that’s what you were doing for the slashers on a regular basis. And he would drop dead before letting you think he didn’t see you…

He laid his hands flat on your back as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"…I…care." He buried his face in your neck. "I care…"

You were so shocked about hearing him speak that you actually stopped struggling and started crying instead—finally hugging him back.

"I know, Michael. I know…"

Bo Sinclair :

"…Look at that. We got matchin’ friendship bracelets, darls’. If that ain’t a sign ? Then I dunno what is."

Bo noticed your wrists and the familiar binding scars. He had the same damn scars around his wrists. He knew what they meant. He knew torture and pain.

It was even worse when it came from people you thought cared about you. He thought for a long time that his ma and pa had a good reason to attach him and force feed him. He always thought they loved him…But it was only an illusion.

Your older patients…You surely cared for them—or you tried to. But, the scars were proof enough that this care was one-sided and that at the end, they had taken more from you than they had ever given you.

Bo stroked the scars on your wrists and offered you a sad smile.

"…They may not have loved you, nurse. But you can be sure that we’ll love ya bette’ for it," He looked up at you and "You’ll be a’right. I’ll make sure of it."

He grabbed your forearm and pressed his own scars against your own before pressing his forehead against yours.

"…We gonna be a’right. You and I. We gonna be a’right. I promise."

Your eyes filled with tears as you squeezed his forearm back.

"Yeah, Bo. We’re going to be alright."

Penny :

It was in your bedroom when Penny first saw them. He was hiding underneath your bed and was waiting to jump scare you when you started undressing and his eyes widened when he saw your damaged back.

He kept staring before you were asleep in bed and then, he slowly crept up your bed until his face was right above your sleeping face.

He started sniffing your scars and growled lowly when he realised where you had gotten them from. They had hurt you…

He then slowly opened his mouth to lick your back—trying to soothe the pain. Some of them even healed up a little as he tried to make them disappear. He didn’t like to see you hurt.

Not a lot of people knew of Penny’s healing abilities. Especially since he didn’t like to use it on just anybody. But for you ? He’d make an exception…

When you stirred in your sleep, he had no choice but to stop. But, he still raised his hand to slowly caress your face and giggled quietly.

"…Brave, nursy."

He whispered as you kept your eyes closed and Penny sighed before nuzzling your face.

"…They will pay. They will pay. I will devour their stupid souls and eat them whole. I’ll make them regret every hurting you, my little nurse…"

He then kissed your cheek.

Your eyes suddenly opened—but he was gone.

Pennywise :

Pennywise sat down next to you as you were having your break. He didn’t speak at first. You glanced at him curiously, but you didn’t try to break the silence.

You were starting to wonder if whether or not you should say something or leave when he finally spoke up.

"I saw many people with scars. Even Penny. I saw men, women and children try to hide their physical scars in fear or shame but…" Pennywise slowly removed one of his gloves and your eyes widened in shock when he actually laid his hand flat on yours. "…I don’t think so."

You stared at his hand on top of yours and were speechless for a second. Pennywise didn’t like to be touched. And the fact that he was now holding your hand was a real shock.

"Pennywise…You do not have to…" You tried to tell him.

He looked at you and smiled.

"It won’t bother me as much if I know it is for you…"

He tried to sound nonchalant, but his hand was shaking. He was forcing himself to stay still and make you feel better.

Finally, he retreated his hand, but the fact that he had actually succeeded in holding on as long as he did was a huge progress.

You smiled to yourself before looking at him.

"Thank you, Pennywise."

He smiled back.

"You’re welcome, sugar."

Dennis :

You were washing the dishes with Dennis when his eyes spotted the little red scars on your arms. You followed his gaze and sighed before lowering your sleeves a little. Dennis looked up at your annoyed expression and wordlessly finished washing the dishes with you.

As you were leaving to get to your office however, he grabbed your hand. You frowned and looked back at him and he opened his mouth. He was silent for a few seconds before finally telling you:

"…The Horde expected me to protect them, so I did…But nobody came to help me when I needed protecting. So, I know how it feels. And that if you ever need protection ? I am here. And I…understand."

As you weren’t reacting, he thought you might find his words inappropriate or odd. He sighed and released your hand.

"…Just wanted to let you know."

He then turned around to leave.

But, you caught his hand before he could walk away and Dennis was momentarily stunned before he looked back at you and his astonishment turned to worry when he saw that you were crying.

But, his eyes widened when he felt you squeeze his hand and you offered his a small smile.

"…Thank you, Dennis."

He looked back down at your hand holding his and gulped before squeezing it back with a small smile of his own.

"…You’re welcome."

Norman Bates :

"…Y/N…" His voice was weak. It was the first time Norman seemed so upset. He stared at your naked back and the angry red scars. They were so deep and some looked like the red feathers of imprinted wings.

He was speechless. When you tried to cover up, he stepped forward and held you closely—kissing the scars on your back gently.

"…I am so sorry, darling. I should have been here. I should have…" Norman felt so ashamed. He knew you from far before any of the slashers met you. But he had never really realised how bad it was.

"You couldn’t have. You didn’t know." You tried to reassure him, but he only held you tighter.

"I should have. Forgive me, my darling. Forgive me." He pleaded and his eyes filled with tears as he embraced you tightly and kept kissing your scars.

He wanted the pain to be gone.

Why hadn’t you said anything ? Why hadn’t you told him the truth ? Why hadn’t you given him the opportunity to avenge you ?

He felt anger bubbling in his chest.

…People were going to die tonight…

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #norman bates x reader #bo sinclair x reader #dennis x reader #the horde x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #slashers au

[flowerandblood]

Rip my heart, heal my soul Inside Alphabet

[ Jack the Ripper • modern!Aemond x female ]

Inside Alphabet for Aemond from my series Rip my heart, heal my soul after he met his girl, made for my one year celebration. Very dark content below.

A = Anger (do they get mad and how they react to it)

Before he met his sweet girl, rage, a sense of injustice and aggression accompanied him all the time. In fact, he took it out on his victims, feeling momentary peace, satisfaction and fatigue only when he killed them. However, the euphoric stage was too short-lived for his liking, so he had to quickly find new objects of interest to repeat the whole process.

When a woman was aggressive or rude to him, she could count on him to end her life even if she was not to his taste and he originally had no plan to do anything to her.

After he met her, his frustration and aggression subsided to practically zero. He replaced the adrenaline and endorphin that was secreted in his brain when he was killing with her constant closeness, both physical and spiritual. If he needed to get off, rough, violent sex would suffice, but the kind that wouldn't cause her any real harm. He would never want to hurt her.

B = Behavior (tics, reflexes, things specific to them)

His hands often tremble, usually from excitement or nerves, so he plays with, for example, a glass in his hand, a cloth slung over his shoulder, a cigarette, his jacket, anything to keep his fingers busy. He even feels a tickle in his fingertips when he thinks about killing. Apart from that, he talks to himself a lot under his breath when he thinks about something intensely.

C = Crying (whether they cry & do what when someone else cries)

He actually cries a lot, especially when he lets his consciousness take over for a while and he realises again what he has done to all these women. This knowledge crushes him and he becomes hysterical until she calms him down with her closeness, tenderness and warm words, even though he knows that he does not deserve to be comforted.

D = Despair (who they seek help from first)

When he panics, he calls her first before he does something stupid. He tries not to make any rash decisions before he talks to her. Often her voice alone and her soothing words calm him down and make him realise that the situation is not as bad as he feared.

E = Enemy (who they hate or argue with most often)

He hated women who reminded him of the girls who teased and mocked him in high school. There were several, but the worst was one of them, a dark-haired, petite, sweet girl who only pretended to be nice.

She flirted with a lot of boys, cheating on them, and made fun of him, saying that if he was desperate, she could take his virginity because he might never get the chance to make love to a woman with that appearance.

These words left a mark on him, completely killing his already low self-esteem. He began to exercise, changed his style of dress and conversation, and when he returned to school after the summer holidays, he found that she didn't recognise him until she saw his scar up close.

He felt a sense of power over her and satisfaction at the thought that she was now the one who followed him around and begged for his attention, the more he was secretive and withdrawn, the more he teased her, the more she was in love with him.

She was very insistent that they go to bed together, and when they finally did, she was not happy with how inexperienced he was. Her remarks and the look on her face full of disappointment enraged him so much that he strangled her with the string she used to tie her dress around her waist.

When she stopped moving he was terrified and tried to wake her up, however, in addition to the fear he also felt an immense satisfaction that this dumb bitch was no longer laughing.

She had mocked him and was now lying there with a blank stare, a fucking slut who deserved everything that had happened to her.

He decided afterwards that he wished he'd caused her more pain before he killed her, that he had said all those things to her that had been pressing to his lips.

His girlfriend reminded him a lot of her in some ways, so he had originally considered her the perfect target for his next victim, believing that she was simply faking it.

He tried to catch her in a lie, gossip or words she would normally be ashamed of if she didn't trust him, but his plan backfired a tad because he fell in love with her instead.

F = Friends (do they have and who they consider friends)

She is his only real friend.

G = Gifts (whether they like gifts and give them themselves)

He loves to make his sweet girl little presents, he knows what kind of buns she likes to eat so he always buys her fresh ones after work so she can eat them for dinner and in the morning before class, he buys her books, notebooks and anything he thinks she will find useful and enjoy, always excitedly waiting for her reaction.

When he gets gifts from her, when she turns out to have remembered his birthday or anniversary, he feels happy, ashamed and remorseful at the same time, thinking that after all he has done he does not deserve any presents, much less from her.

H = Hobby (what they do for pleasure in their free time)

Reading.

I = Idol (their role model)

In fact, she is his role model. Every day he watches her and learns from her how to deal with everyday problems and adversities in a calm and composed manner, at the same time filled with hope and reason. She is the one he counsels when he doesn't know how to solve his problem, not wanting to use violence any more, and he usually gets an answer from her that satisfies him and, in his mind, makes sense.

J = Jokes (how they react to jokes and if they laugh)

No joking. He doesn't even know how to do it. He laughs sometimes when she does something silly.

K = Kids (do they want to have them)

Some part of him would like to have a family, but he would be afraid that his children would be like him. He would also be afraid that he would then have to share his beloved, that a child would take her away from him to some extent. He knows that he is perhaps too possessive for that and would rather not risk it.

However, he would never force her to terminate the pregnancy if she decided that she wanted to keep the child. He would then try to deal with it somehow, but it would be very difficult for him because of what would be going on in his head.

L = Love (anything to do with falling in love)

Before he met her, he did not believe in love or that he was capable of it. He believed that he could not be loved and that women who bestow affection on him simply want to go to bed with him and fall in love with someone they have made up themselves, in some imagined version of him, rather than the monster he really was.

When he met her, however, it became apparent that something was beginning to happen inside him. He felt warmth at the sight of her as she crossed the door of the café, the rapid beating of his heart and the trembling of his hands as he handed her an order and exchanged a few words with her, the things he had learned about her and the articles she had written made some part of him want to get to know her instead of trying to drag her to bed, and once that happened he was unable to hurt her.

M = Manners (how they behave in formal situations)

He is cold and withdrawn. He hates talking to strangers and dies when he has to call the doctor or get anything done at the office. He begs her to do it for him, but she refuses, saying that he has to deal with such things on his own. He literally dies then, but he tries, for her. To make her proud of him.

N = Nightmare (their worst nightmare)

He often dreams that he wakes up next to her and she is lying beside him with empty eye sockets, covered in blood, dead. He doesn't remember anything, he can't believe that he did it, but he also sees traces of blood on his hands. He then wakes up, for real this time, and grabs her, begging her to say something, and she looks at him terrified, snapped out of a deep sleep, asking him if he's been having nightmares again.

Usually then he starts crying in relief, unable to even answer her question, sobbing hugged to her chest, and she embraces him and strokes his hair, whispering that everything is okay.

He dies of fear when she goes off somewhere alone and doesn't respond to his messages for too long. He's ready to quit mid-shift, get straight into the car and drive to wherever she is, just to make sure she's okay. He drives her crazy with his overprotectiveness.

He would be devastated if she broke up with him. He would be afraid he would do something to her in an act of desperation or go back to murdering again.

O = Origin (their childhood)

He grew up in a family where money was always in short supply. His father died when he was very young and his mother worked several shifts to support him and his siblings. When the terrible accident happened to him and he lost his eye, his mother could not afford the expensive treatment, so his scar did not heal as well as it could have.

For a long time he wore the cheapest glass eye, which looked awful and made other children afraid of him. It wasn't until he was in high school that he managed to get a refund from the country for a better one, one that is almost no different from a normal one.

P = Proximity (what they are like when they are intimate)

Before her, he associated proximity only with animalistic closeness and aggression, so he did not see it as anything pleasant or desirable.

Only when he met his girlfriend did he desire this closeness in a different way, wanting simply to touch her, feel her and experience fulfilment with her. It turned out that her touch, full of respect, warmth and care even calmed him down, and sex with her became his favourite way to relax.

Q = Quiz (whether they like to play and how)

He enjoys playing chess or other logic games.

R = Routine (do they have a daily routine and what is it)

He always sets himself a routine for the day, which he sticks to and which his girlfriend knows he hates when someone disorganises it for him. They have agreed that they will always set all changes in advance and try not to surprise each other with anything unless something happens that neither of them had control over.

He didn't resent her when she became unwell and he had to take her to the doctor even though he should have been at work, it is obvious that her and his wellbeing are of utmost importance to him.

S = Safety (whether and where they feel safe)

He only feels safe when he sleeps cuddled up against her breasts in their bed, making sure he has locked the door on both locks beforehand.

T = Touch (who they allow to touch and how)

Only she can touch him. He loves her hands, the way she touches his bare skin with them, his chest, his cheeks, his shoulders, when she kisses him, or when she comes close and embraces him from behind at the waist.

In the case of any other person, he tenses up all over and pulls away, furious, thinking that this is a right meant only for the woman he loves. When any strange woman touches him he bursts into a rage, he then snorts for air and counts to thirty, waiting for the wave of anger to pass away.

U = Unforgivable (things they would not forgive)

Lying.

He would never forgive her if she lied to him, even if it was some small thing. He would rather she say she doesn't know something or isn't sure than say something that would later turn out not to be true. He often checks what she says with the facts and is relieved every time her words are confirmed. He trusts her, but at the same time he is still afraid that she will start hiding something from him.

Betrayal.

I don't even have to write what he would do then. He would kill her first and then himself.

V = Vengeance (whether they are vengeful and how)

He is very vindictive and only her pleas and requests make him let strangers off the hook for certain things. He is very easily annoyed or offended and often winning his forgiveness is impossible.

W = Warderobe (what they wear, what style they have)

He dresses simply but elegantly. He loves fitted, dark jumpers and turtlenecks worn with black trousers.

Y = Yearning (whether they yearn and how they express it)

He dies of longing when she goes out somewhere alone with her friends. He lets her do it because he knows she needs it, but he wants to cry then. He is emotionally unstable and sees the very worst scenarios in his mind − above all that something will happen to her.

He constantly craves her, when she is tired several days in a row he starts to worry that she doesn't love him anymore, that he has done something wrong. Usually when she comes back to strength she shows him how wrong he was and then he feels that wonderful, overpowering relief again, which passes every time he has to separate from her again.

His dream would be to die lying in bed with her, cuddled up against her naked body, with his manhood deep inside her, his nose filled with her scent, listening to her calm breathing.

Z = Zone (their comfort zone)

He feels comfort when he is with her in their flat. This is where he's calm and composed and does not feel any frustration or anger.

When he goes outside and has contact with strangers he feels threatened, even more so when she is next to him and he has to worry about her too.

He then holds her hand in his to make sure he doesn't lose her somewhere among the crowds, watching the people around them like a guard, protecting her in his mind from other people like him.

#aemond headcanon #aemond headcanons #dark aemond headcanons #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #aemond smut #aemond angst #modern aemond #modern aemond smut #modern aemond angst #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fic #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x female #aemond fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #hotd fanfic

[wlfpet]

Abby choking reader with her biceps!

AN; Sorry this took so long, its been killing me for fucking ever and I got stumped. Somehow I found a way to write something I could be a little bit proud of, so I hope ya'll like it!

content tags: Asphyxiation (2 in a combat context, one in an erotic context. r! receiving all three times,) fingering (r!receiving,) cunnilingus (r!receiving,) a normally degrading pet name used in a sexual context, abby is kind of mean in the beginning but warm sup at the end, reader is one of like a billion orphans that live in the tlouverse, sadge. mediocre action scenes. breast play (r!receiving,) abby gives r slurp and she didn't even pull her pants down

wc: 6.4k (woah...)

proofread?: i've rewritten this 4 times and never want to see it again.

The forest was dark and cold, wind whipping around you, through you, as you traversed deeper into darkness. It was getting dark, your radio had died a long time ago, and it had been hours since you had seen a WLF stronghold, or a stationary transceiver to call for help on. Your assignment was entry-level, sweep the grounds in WLF territory for any raider camps or pockets of traveling scars, but you were separated from your squad, and now, without any way to communicate with them, you had to find your own way back to the FOB before nightfall. You were turned around, in scar territory, alone; following the moon, sidearm drawn in your trembling hands. There was a ringing in your ears, cut only by the bumping of your anxious heart; pitifully, you wouldn’t be able to hear the cracking of rustling leaves and snapping twigs underfoot over the sound of your own fear.

There was a great cry as a shadow swung into your vision. You missed the blow narrowly, sliding backward as a body lurched into your vision. It rushed you, taking you by surprise, causing you to stumble as your pistol arm shot up wildly in the tight grip of your attacker. There wasn’t enough time for reaction, and before you knew it, you were carrying their weight. The two of you were thrashing, a bloody tug of war through the bushes and debris, you were fighting, the way that one fights before they die. It was a tornado of bodies, a cacophony of screams the clatter of a gun hitting the floor, and then the blackness of being blind as your head slammed into the trunk of a tree. Thick blood and spit shot from your mouth as you crumpled to the forest floor with a heavy thud, seeing stars. 

You fought unconsciousness as you tried to regain your footing, but your assailant was too fast, grabbing by the collar of your jacket and dragging you across the tractionless, muddy ground. You were chest to the ground, pressed down with the full weight of two people as a hand fisted through your hair, holding your face to the dirt as you struggled with the last of your remaining power. 

“Fuck– no, get the fuck off of me–!” You screamed, thrashing wildly on the ground, your torso pinned. An arm hooked around your throat.  Your hand slapped wildly at the ground, looking for something, anything that could grant you escape. There was nothing; but as your fingers inched out, there was your gun. Before you could sweep it into your grasp, pressure bulged against your eyes, crushing your throat, tightening the skin of your face. Hands flew up, spurred on by true survival instinct to claw at the scar’s flesh, but the leather of your brown utility gloves only pawed weakly at the clothed bicep. Your lips pulled into a grimace, blood rushing to your brain as you fell in and out of consciousness. Like sick irony, there was nothing; but then, pressed to your temple was the cold metal of your sidearm. Your eyes squeezed closed, anticipating the bang.

“This is the part where you’d end up getting your brains blown out with your own pistol, rook.” The arm currently strangling you loosened, freeing you from its grapple. The disembodied voice- no, it was very bodied, actually, and still laying across you- jostled your temple with the dummy gun, exploding in mock recoil as a sardonic ‘–pchew!’ blew against your ear. It lifted away from you and you finally had the space to expand your chest more than a couple of inches. You rolled over onto your back, drawing a deep, reactionary breath, soothing the throbbing skin of your neck with a hand. 

The woman towering over you in the darkness grimaced, unimpressed, leaning her weight against the tree trunk she had just used to nearly brain you. Anderson was your training captain; ruthless, built like an ox, and the top soldier out of anyone in the WLF, right hand to the Big Man, and you fucking hated her. 

She was an unforgiving mentor; running you on drills long after everyone went home, failing you, hard, and was dedicated to kicking your ass for real every time you had a sparring match. This, in fact, was your third field scenario attempt with Anderson, and they never got better; the first time, throwing dirt into your face and ‘slitting your throat,’ then it was ‘shooting’ you in your abdomen and finishing you off with another to the chest, and now? Taken out after getting ambushed in a dark forest and having your head blasted open. She’d suck her teeth, cracking the vertebrae in her neck with a terse, ‘that’s how it is in the field, kid’’ as you walked behind her, winded. 

“That… wasn’t a pass, was it?” You choked out, scooching yourself across the wet mud to sit up, drawing harsh, ragged breaths. 

Anderson wrenched up a brow at you, unimpressed. “You really need to be told that wasn’t a pass?” 

The matter-of-fact tone she took left you dumbstruck, crushed, burning from the inside out of embarrassment, the heat nesting in your cheeks mingling from the stinging pain from the fight. You were humiliated and more importantly, you knew she was right. That you had shit the bed, going 0 and 3.  You wouldn’t be getting promoted to assignments, and if you kept dragging your feet, you’d be reassigned. But you could convince her, you had to convince her. “But everyone else from my class made mistakes, and they– they still passed!” You tried to seem firm and level-headed, but your throat got tight all of a sudden, and your voice was whiny like a child’s. 

“Doesn’t really matter to me. I don’t train everyone else from your class.” She blew out flippantly, not even meeting your eyes, barely giving your pleas the time of day. It was her job to push you past your limits, to see how far from your comfort zone you were willing to go. To see how badly you could be beaten before you talked, how long they could torture you with guns or knives or burns before you gave in. But right now? She was more irritated than anything, and the truth she was biting her tongue on was that you were a completely lost cause. 

Anderson cut the distance between the two of you and leaned in, closer than ever, towering over you like it was easy, looking at you as if she was seeing you from the inside out. Her smirk faded, falling to her barely-masked anger as she kneaded together her lips. Your eyes brimmed with tears as hers filled with indignation, annoyance, like you were an itch she couldn’t scratch; perpetually pissing her off. “You don’t have a clue in the fucking world, do you? The reality of what they do in the open city you’re in such a rush to get out to? What they’ll do to a wolf, out there?” 

You did know, or at least you had heard stories. It was all common;  rookies overhearing what deployed soldiers would bring back from their rotation, then telephoning it back in the barracks before lights out. The stories were always the same, scouting duos going out deep into the unclaimed territory, never to come back. It was no man’s land. it was suicide. After some days, they would stop calling into WLF frequencies. After some weeks, a new unit would be sent behind them, stumbling upon the bloated, swinging bodies. it would take another three days for recovery to get them back to the FOB, they would get buried in a large plot of land at the back of the stadium, reserved only for soldiers. It was nothing special, but the ones that were too high up would just stay there. Sometimes, it would keep you up at night, honest. You looked at your feet, almost submissively, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to leak. She was right, you fucked up, you kept fucking up. You forced your tiny voice to speak. “I’m sorry, I ju–”

“This a fucking joke to you, YLN?”

You looked into her eyes, she was tired of you. Tired of your constant excuses, how you never seemed to improve, how everything you did wrong ended up coming down on her shoulders. You had gotten bounced around from training class to training class on account of repeated failures, and at some point, they threw you at Anderson’s feet. She protested, she didn’t do fucking charity work but of course, the task manager gave a bullshit excuse, saying that was the direct orders from the big man himself, that if anyone could “fix” you, it was her. You were always fucking around, lackadaisical, terrible at your job. Always cornering her before the end of evaluations, begging for a good word, begging for extra credit. They called you ’tornado’  because you kept busting your ass during physical drills, which turned into ‘twitch’ because you couldn’t stop your gun hand from shaking during on-field drills. You were picky, even, complaining about the smell of the barracks on your first day in training camp. 

Your mouth was open, gobsmacked, tripping on syllables, tongue dry all of the sudden, too dry, and you tried to blink back the wetness in your eyes before it dampened your cheeks. You couldn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. “No, I just– no, this, this is really serious to me. It’s really important to me.”

 “But you want me to pass you? So that you can get your whole squad killed? So that they can ship your bagged-up body to the morgue? Fine, then. I’ll pass you. See? ‘You passed,’ easy– since we just like bullshitting each other.” The woman deadpanned, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, muscles bobbing under her skin, eyes dangerous, fed up. The harsh words had you simmering over with a quiet rage; at yourself, for fucking up from the beginning, and at your coach, for always being so hard on you. 

“You’re not ready, kid, and I don’t think I can help you, either. Want my advice? There are a lot of other jobs they’ll give you at the stadium, but whatever it is here that you think you’re cut out for– you’re not.” She spoke through a tight jaw, and you could almost imagine sadness in her voice, but that couldn’t be right. She turned on her heels, heading back to the jeep the two of you rode out on, not waiting for you to follow behind her. 

–

If she was nothing else, Abigail Anderson was a woman of her word. You had gone to pick up your evaluation records early in the morning, while the stadium was still quiet and everyone in the barracks was still asleep. It had become an odd kind of spectator sport to see how many consecutive fails you could rack up from mentor to mentor. In turn, it had become your ritual to collect your papers and make them disappear before anyone could ask. Your hands were heavy as you cracked open the envelope, opened it, and gazed over the lettering. There was a boxed-in ‘Instructor: A. ANDERSON’ in the top corner, and your face burned remembering the cold lecture that brought you nearly to tears. 

whatever it is here that you think you’re cut out for– you’re not.

You hated her for it. For always being on your ass, for making everything so damned difficult.  But you were disappointed in yourself for thinking that it would be easy in the first place. Disappointed that years passed by, watching from the sidelines as literal teenagers were deployed before you. Deep down, you knew she was right, that you should give up; but your eyes widened when you saw it. 

INTERIM FIELD EVALUATION: PASS. 

She did it to spite you but you didn’t fucking care, it was one step closer out of the program. You paced around, giggling to yourself; if anyone was up to see you, they’d think you were fucking insane. But no one was awake, and you’d be back in bed before all rise, so it didn’t matter. so you pressed the paper to your chest, as though you could absorb it through your skin. Fucking pass; you could lay down on the floor and die right here. You had to look at it one more time, just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. So you did, eyes flying all across the paper, your first pass in months; no, years and all you had to do was cry a bit. Wonder if Anderson would let it slide all the way to deployment. 

Then you saw it. 

CADET TRANSFER REQUEST

CADET #549226 

From A. ANDERSON

To  V. CHUNG

Fuck.

–

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. Chung will give you all the passes you want.” You were towering over Anderson, who lay flat on the weight bench, adjusting the bar of weights over her head, angling and curling herself in preparation. She didn’t meet your eyes, only looking over a second in irritation as she saw you burst into the then-empty gym. You had planned to give her a piece of your mind, or at least beg and plead. It wasn’t working. She was flippant in the way that she always was, how she could reduce all of your feelings to petty quips and take the air completely out of your sails at once. She lifted the bar, barely any effort showing up as a kink in her brow, pressing it to her chest and then dropping it back down onto the stand jutting out from either side. Her muscles rippled, a thin mask of sweat dusting over her and twinkling in the light

that was a soldier, and she reminded you of everything that you weren’t. 

“It’s not just about the passes. Everyone just–” against your will, a lump formed in your throat, and you turned to the side so that she wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you cry. “Everyone just fucking gives up on me.” You weren’t a stranger to being passed around, but it was something new that hurt; a unique level of disappointment at everything, at yourself, that made the tears pool and run down your face. Trained by the best of the best, and you still couldn’t hack it. 

It really was a dead-end for you. 

Everyone knew the jokes and the rumours of the cadet that just couldn’t make it, but nobody could pinpoint just why, no matter how hard life kicked you, you wouldn’t give up. 

Being a child in a QZ was hard. None of you were happy, or living particularly well, but you had your family, and small joys, Until it all fell down, until FEDRA abandoned one post for another and you were left, a child, at the mercy of the world. You blew around, another fringe society, another QZ. Those fell too, and the only thing you could remember some nights was that everyone was gone now, and it was just you. That was when you joined the WLF. Because you wanted to save the world because it was your only choice.

 You tried to work hard, waking up extra early to run drills, trying to build up your form or your reflexes against all odds. You were like a fish, the way you could hold your breath underwater. Your pistol hand still shook from the chronic anxiety of the life you had lived before, but you could take your sidearm apart and put it back together faster than anyone else. But nobody ever noticed those things, just your fuck ups. Nobody saw you, just saw twitch, or tornado, just a compendium of everything you couldn’t be.

If you couldn’t do anything else, then maybe the suffering you went wasn’t worth it. Maybe what happened to you was just common. You *had* to be a hero.

Or die a martyr. 

The words rolled out before you could stop them, and you were blubbering, tears rolling down your face, a thick coating of snot and drool coating your lips and chin as you sunk down, crying. Your hands fisted that damned form, crumpling it, and it rippled and burst under your fingers. This really was pathetic of you, groveling and begging at the feet of a woman who didn’t care, and deep down you were still planning your strategy of how to exit this room now that you firmly couldn’t play it off. You couldn’t face her anymore, or anyone, for that matter because Anderson would definitely talk. Your only option was to defect, ride out at dawn with nothing but the clothes on your back, no, dig a hole in the stadium and live there, with nothing but a straw in your mouth for breathing, no, shit idea, maybe you should just swan dive off the high side of the FOB and save yourself all the trouble, no, mayb–

“Kid.”

And you were still talking, like a dumbass. “–and i know i fucked up but– if you could give me one more chance i just need one more chance you don’t understand how much this means to me how important this is to me– please i’ll do anything and i get it if you just want me to get the hell out of your way but i just thought i just thought i could i just really really”

“Kid, stop talking,” Anderson was holding your hands gently in her own. Looking up at you from her now seated position. There was still the ever-so-slight crook of indignation in her brow, but she was speaking to you, gently, leniently. She felt bad, and there was a black spot of shame growing on her back from how she had treated you.

She was remorseful, and there was a dark spot of shame growing on her conscience for how she had treated you. She was hard on you because you were just going through the motions and cutting corners a lot of the time, but there was a determination that hadn’t yet been broken down and you were dogged, like she was once; and deep down, she did have a soft spot for your annoying ass. 

“I’ll help you. I’ll help you out” Anderson spit out, watching a spark ignite in your watery eyes. Before you got too excited, she put her hand up, holding all of your hopes in midair for just a moment. “But– fuck, stop crying. Thought I was gonna have to get you on a damn psych watch.” 

You nodded jerkily, exposed once again in front of her, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your thermal shirt, a windy inhale passing through your nose and dislodging the mucus in your throat. “Shit– fuck, fuck. Sorry.” 

Anderson stood from the bench, barely giving you time to react before she angled into a striking position, feet shoulder-width apart, planted firmly on the rubber floor. Her fists were clenched, muscles working in her arms and making her look ten times bigger as she stalked around you, chin down, scanning for an open. “What are you waiting for,” she chided, cracking her neck to the side. It was weird, like she was trying to… encourage you? “Scenario three, from last week– remember?”

Then she advanced, walking you backwards into an empty space in the room, striking at your head before you had a chance to react. You swooped down, diving under her extended arm to barely miss the shot that probably would’ve knocked you out. 

“Put your hands up, rook– they’re not gonna wait for you.” Anderson grunted and slammed down with locked elbows; this was your in– and you charged, albeit off balance to make the first connection, a glancing blow to her chin. The two of you fought around the room, exchanging blows and blocks, kicks and punches. Somehow, you had managed your way into her blindspot and swung to try and land a grapple around her neck with an impassioned “I got you!”

It was then, like a flash of light that your arm was intercepted and you were turned over onto your knees, Anderson crouched beside you squeezing your neck in a submission hold. Her bicep pressed into your throat, that ragged pressure that tightened every muscle in your body and turned on that sheer animal instinct to survive. You clawed above you, nails catching on the flesh of her exposed chest.

“You don’t have to announce it, its not a damn movie.” She spoke, trailing off into a whisper. It was all over, you did it again, miraculously continuing your 0-for-infinity losing streak. 

But she let you go, and it was crazy but you swore that her hand lingered in your hair for a second as she stepped away. You laid on the ground, heaving. Anderson looked over you, looking at the rapidly darkening red welts on your throat, bruises on bruises layered from yesterday night. In the back of her mind, she could hear laughter, a conversation over drinks while her team was on recess.

“You’re fuckin’ brutal on the kid, Anderson. Trying to kill her?” Chung laughed, taking a heavy swig from his beer. A hand clapped against her shoulder from behind, swaying her from side to side, sloshing liquid out of her cup and onto the wooden table they were gathered around. Before she could protest Manny’s voice cut through the raucous laughter ringing off the walls. 

“Bet you two shift swaps that Abs makes YLN drop out of the program before deployment!” He cried, drunk off his ass, jabbing his finger in any general direction before loosening his spider monkey-like grip. Abby’s back burned, her jaw clenching unconsciously with thinly veiled anger, they were her friends, but fuck these guys, honestly.  She forced a coy smile, becoming the face of drunken jest. 

“You guys fucking done?” She tried to conceal the sound of her discomfort with a laugh, but it was tight and terse and frankly, after years together anyone at the roundtable could pick up on her unconscious cues. 

“What, Abs, going soft on us? Or maybe… you’re tryna’ catch another type of body– huh? huh?”

—

She watched you, fisting your hands together on the floor in a quiet sort of frustration. Tears threatened to pool in your eyes but you blinked them back, cutting your eye at her for a split second and then looking away. It was embarrassing, of course, but at this point, you were defeated. Anderson sat down beside you, hooking her hand under your arm and lifting you to sit upright. 

“Anderson I–”

“–just, Abby.” She whispered, palming your knee, trying her best to commit to her insurmountable task: being comforting. The woman watched as your face tensed up and then went slack as you dug teeth into your bottom lip, looking off into nothing. “It’s not going to matter more, just because you die. You know that, right?” You didn’t speak. Nails ran skittishly against your shirt as you ran your hands up and down your arms, trying to self-soothe, unable to hide your grimace. 

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly, as though you were trying to stave off your own denial. “Yeah.”

The hand on your knee became firmer, heavier as it stroked over your skin, her thumb rubbing a small circle where it began to meet your thigh. “I was serious– when I was talking about other jobs, you know? You can just live a good life, and that can be enough. There’s nothing waiting for you outside of the wall, kid.”

 If it were anyone else, you could’ve been angry, you would’ve lashed out; but it was coming from someplace real, one of the only times you had ever seen Anderson– Abby, be anything more than a cold, stony prick. She had been stern with you because she saw herself in that tiny rage you had, the anger just below the surface that she could see in your eyes right at this moment. Because when you’re that driven about anything, the only certain thing to look forward to is a darkness that keeps on coming. It was the hard realisation, and you swallowed heavy. “Guess not.”

There was a vulnerability in the air, and before you knew it, you were leaning into her touch, pressing your body to hers, side to side. Your superior didn’t move, didn’t keen away or tell you off, just sat there, never stopping the motion of her hand. It was a long silence between the two of you, but then she stopped, began to stand, and like your body wasn’t yours you grabbed her arm, willing her to stay without a single spoken word. There was this weird, small flash on her face that you couldn’t place, until she just nodded, using her strength to lift you to your feet as well. 

“Coming?” Was all that she said, and you nodded. Yeah. 

–

It was what you had always wanted, the big luxury box in the sky. It was as though you could see everything from your place at the window of Abby’s room, the barracks, where everyone was still sleeping tucked in the corner behind the greenhouse, the sun slowly overtaking the dark sky, the very tops of the skyscraper tucked into the clouds, the FOB, overlooking everything ominously.

 “It’s all yours?” you asked, no higher than a murmur as you looked through the parted curtains. 

“And Manny’s,” Abby dropped her bag in the corner of the room, using her foot to kick it under her bedframe. “On an overnight, though. So it’s just me. One of the many perks you have to look forward to if you become a top soldier.” 

“Fat chance.” You quipped bitterly.

There were footsteps behind you, but you didn’t think much of it as you closed the curtain. You turned away from the window and in a second the two of you were together, the blonde placing a hand on the small of your back and taking your mouth into hers. It was as though you were covered in white light, how everything became so blinding, so warm, extremely surreal in a way you couldn’t place. You’d wake up in your bunk, you were sure of it. Had to wake up in your bunk. But as the wet of her tongue played over your lips, you thought, maybe you didn’t want to wake up. You could dream forever and that would be fine.

“You know, you’re really hard on yourself, rookie.” The taller woman breathed, pulling away to speak. “Wouldn’t be a good mentor if I didn’t give you a morale adjustment.”

You moaned, leaning into it, the thickness of her thigh now ghosting against the spread of your legs. Her hand came up to run fingers gently through your hair, thumbing away the thin layer of sweat that formed on the nape of your neck. Her cockiness did something to you, and it was as though you couldn’t get enough skin to touch as you gripped her bicep deeper, feeling the muscle bulge with her effort. Her tongue disappeared into your mouth, swirling against yours, depositing the slick of her saliva down your throat. It was heavy and wet, built up like her own body, and it dominated yours easily, just like she had done in the gym. 

“You with me?” She peppered a soft kiss, groaning as she took a fistful of your thigh, heaving it up to lock against her waist, the seam of your pants unwittingly pressing into your crotch through now-dampened panties. She pulled from you and you wanted to chase her, a deprived whine ringing out of your throat before you could stop it. Unbeknownst to you, the noise sent a shockwave to Abby’s clit, and she could feel her channel begin to slicken. Fuck, you were pretty. Her eyes narrowed, looking over your features. This should be against her ethical code, probably against proper conduct guidelines, but she wanted you so bad it was infuriating. She heard Chung’s voice again. 

…tryna’ catch another type of body?

Oh, fuck you, man. 

You nodded, and a frown overcame her. “Needa hear you, kid.” You looked down, pressed your face into her chest, kneading fingers into her open grey sweatshirt. It was embarrassing to say, and a part of her wished that she was as bad as you had always said she was, that she would just… do whatever this is and not make you vocalise how much you wanted her. The pit of shame in your stomach got deeper, but she soothed a thumb over your brow and it was like you melted. “We don’t have to do anything if you d–”

“I’m here. I’m with you.”

There it was; the confirmation, the greenlight she needed to lift you up, both legs under her strong hands now, and carry you to the two pushed-together twin mattresses of her bed. She looked down at you, laying on your back, blown-out watery eyes squinted as she lifted your shirt up just a hair to reveal the plush skin beneath. “Fuckin’ hell.” She whispered to nobody specific, running a thumb against your torso. 

Abby met your eye, asking, and you nodded. She exposed you easily, lifting your shirt up and leaving you in just a bra from the waist up. Deft fingers locked under the straps and she pulled her hands down, mouth agape as your breasts spilled forward. If she believed, she would’ve compared the sight to viewing the kingdom of heaven for the first time, singing angels and all. A calloused hand trailed up to palm one, a thumb rolling across the pliant bulb of your nipple, the sensation causing it to rapidly harden to a stiff point. She took it, rolling it between two fingers and her thumb as she leaned in, taking the other in her mouth and grazing it between her teeth. A ragged breath was forced through your lips as you tried to regain your spinning consciousness. 

“Fuck, nghh– Abby, fuck.” You moaned out, delirious. The double stimulation didn’t stop, and instead, Abby slid her jaw forward, biting one nipple firmly and gripping the other between two knuckles to pull, and you cried out. She sucked as though she was nursing, the slopping popping noises of her mouth filling the air in tandem with your moans and whimpers.

“Goddamned gorgeous, you know that?” She groaned, slapping your free tit with her hand lightly before walking her fingers down to your belt loop. With one hand she slipped down your sweatpants to your ankles, leaving you in nothing but light, stained briefs. Your cunt had soaked pathetically through the fabric, clit standing at attention. You were so wet that the thin cloth was practically see-through, the rouge of your cunt catching Abby’s eye. Through your underwear, a calloused thumb toggled your clit, ripping a half-sob from your body. 

It was as though you were an overflowing spring of endlessly pure water, how the wet spot grew and grew. You fucked your hips upwards, trying desperately to rock harder into the new assailant, but Abby lifted her thumb away, depriving you of the sensation. It was so much, everything was spinning; your head, the room, your soul out of your body. Your cunt clenched around air as she drew designs on your thigh with a finger absentmindedly. 

“Gotta be patient, little.” She didn’t look up, but there was a smirk on her face and a smile in her voice as brought her thumb back down. “Gonna take care of you, don’t worry.”  

Her finger ghosted over the wet spot in your underwear and you twitched unconsciously. The blonde captured a thin sheen of your drip between two fingers, stretching the line back and forth. “So fuckin’ excited for me.” She pressed her nose down into your crotch, and you closed your thighs reflexively. Fine by her. She took a deep inhale of your pussy, and lathed at the wet liquid with her tongue. The rough texture of the fabric dragged over your clit, bringing the little red bulb to a fever pitch, as she sucked and slurped through it, catching salty-sweetness in her mouth. Her tongue pathed its way to your covered clit, flattening roughly over the sensitive bundle. The dual stimulation was driving you mad; the hard abrasion of wet panties slipping between your cuntlips, in and out of your hole as she licked and prodded, and the firm muscle of her tongue kneading at the pliant flesh. 

Like she was showing off a party trick, Abby maneuvered her tongue, skillfully weaving it inside of your underwear to taste your ambrosia from the tap. Rough hands grabbed hold of your ass, palming and gripping as she pushed your thighs up and over to situate your feet over your head in the perfect position where your gooey pussy was squished together, oozing directly into her mouth. You kicked the sweatpants the rest of the way gone, and they flew into the corner of the room, never to be seen again. There was a groan like an animal, and you weren’t sure which of the two of you was the source as Abby tore your panties open, the two halves drooping weakly, and pressed your feet next to your ears. She devoured you with newfound vigor, catching a second wind the moment your walls clenched around her tongue, fucking you in and out as hard and deep as possible.

“Abby! Shit, shit, more. Please.” You whimpered, looking down to see where her disappearing nose bumped against your clit over and over again. She wanted you to fuck her face, grinding her head back and forth so that her lips massaged yours, her tongue searched for every spot, and her nose abused your sloppy nub, driving you crazy with sensation over sensation. You were coming over the bend fast, too fast, and everything flashed white and black in spades as your body trembled. Again, her thumb came up to drum against your clit, and your orgasm tore you in two, red hot. Your juices siphoned into the blonde’s waiting mouth, and she drank from you like an oasis. 

Her body came over, you, shrouding you in darkness and the rolled over to lay flat on the bed, scooting over to plant her feet on the very edge. You were still trembling, still drooling from the slit in your legs that was happily prepped and used. The throbbing shook your whole body as you tried to catch your breath, and Abby’s arm jutted out, pulling you across the bed and onto her, chest to back. She hooked her knees through yours, and you could feel the force holding you open to give full exposure to your greedy hole. She licked a hot stripe up your neck and you whimpered, biting your lip. She pulled it free with your thumb, replacing it with a finger that she fucked in and out of your hot mouth. “Wonder where this is going, huh?” She angled her knees down, spreading you further, your pussylips slipping apart, cool air running against your clit. “Gotta see if it’s just your hand, or if you have a twitchy pussy too, baby.”

The moniker that usually filled you with red shame was now engulfing you with hot-pink lust, your cunny leaking down onto the bed. You were dumb and fuck-drunk as Abby pushed one of her thick fingers into you, slowly at first in order to get you used to the stretch of the tight ring. She curled her knuckle to press against your g-spot and you saw stars. She sped up her filthy pace, the sloppy sounds of your wet cunt reverberating in the air. Then, it was instant, her strong, rippling arm coming around to clench your neck again, palm rubbing your head gently. Abby added another finger, palm smearing your clit harshly as she fucked you deep, pace quickening. Her fingers scissored back and forth as she closed her elbow tighter, cutting off your breath and inviting the pressure you were by now so used to. You couldn’t tell her you were on the verge of cumming, a red-hot fire in your stomach burning hotter and faster as the plowed through your juices. 

You were suctioning her fingers, barely letting them slip from your folds. She pulled them out nearly all the way and drilled back in, tiny splashes of liquid raining down on the mattress. You ground your hips as best you could in the compromising position, chasing your orgasm, so close to your own personal bliss that you started panting like a whore with no concern. Abby pressed open-mouthed kisses to your cheeks, to your lips, the taste of you still on her and mingling with your own saliva. You were dizzy, be it the pleasure, the slowly depleting oxygen in your lungs, or the fact that your mentor was currently palm-deep in your pussy, but you couldn’t keep your composure. 

Your walls clenched around her, and you could hear her muttering in your ear. ‘such a tight pussy, Twitch, baby. Such a good pussy.’ And it was like you were summoned, cunt spasming as you came hard and messy, squirt shooting from you and sprinkling loudly through the ground. She fucked you through it, releasing your throat as your vision blurred, not letting you close your legs and bringing her free hand down to rub your clit in tandem. You tried to buck away from her to no avail, your cunt clenching wildly, juices bubbling over, lips red and sore from the sustained abuse. Tears rolled down your face as you took hungry breaths, your deprived lungs fighting for all of the air they could get. 

The two of you lay together, panting, hearts beating against the other, and Abby pulled her palm away from the throbbing expanse of your swollen, used cunt. She unhooked your thighs, and the pressure of closing your legs again sent a ripple into your pussy that made you whimper something fierce. There was a long, pregnant silence, and then you spoke up, cheekily. 

“So are you going to still swap me?”

“Not sure… it’s, whadotheycallit–? A conflict of interest.” She said, turning over and throwing a heavy arm over your chest, rubbing your bicep absentmindedly.

“But I’ll tell you what, champ; I’ll make sure to put a special training session on my schedule whenever you’re up for it. If you’re up for it.”

#abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson ff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby smut #abby tlou smut #abby anderson x you #abby x fem!reader #tlou smut #tiki writes #time to go lay my ass to sleep

[yournameloveskpop]

My Angel

Paring: Demon Yeonjun x Angel Reader

Warning: violence, torture, rough sex, forced, smut, NSFW, dirty talk, names such as “slut” “wore” “my toy” “my angel”, Stockholm Syndrome

Style: NSFW, evil demon Yeonjun, angel to fallen angel reader

Word count: 1480

Yeonjun wasn’t going to let Y/N go so easily. He was able to kidnap her from the celestial realm to prove a point that demons were just as powerful and stronger than them. He had her up in chains in his layer and torturing her to no end, his wide grin plastered on his face when he was done whipping her.

Yeonjun stepped back to look at his work, Y/N’s soft pale form was now marked and red, her clothes ripped and hanging off her body. He licked his lips at the sight. He would be lying if he thought she wasn’t pretty and the sight was a huge turn on for him.

“You look like you could use a drink, sweetie. Come with me and I will make sure you get one.” He smirked over his shoulder before leading Y/N down the hall way.

Yeonjun led her to his bedroom, his dick now hard from the enjoyment of torturing her, the look on her face excited him and he wanted to see more of her. . . Hear more of her. His steps quickened in speed while they walked down the long hallway.

When they entered his chambers, he picked her up bridal style and threw her onto the bed where he quickly went down on her. Her scream was muffled by his large hand covering her mouth. His tongue licking every scar he gave her before ripping the rest of her damaged clothes off before removing his own.

“I want you to take my dick in your mouth. Don’t you dare pull away,” he ordered and sat up to reveal his rock hard dick in front of her face. “Go ahead and suck it.” He teased at the tips of her pink lips with his head, his eyes narrowed with pleasure at how eager she seemed to do this.

She stared at his thick throbbing cock as it stood there. Y/N leaned in and gave the tip a gentle lick as she looked up at in innocently. She wanted to see his reaction, knowing that he was already turned on.

Yeonjun slapped her ass causing her to jump. “If you keep teasing me I will fuck you in the ass, got it?” He grunts and grabs her hair roughly.

she takes his dick into her mouth and starts to suck on it, her tongue gliding along his shaft. A low growl left Yeonjun’s lips and slapped her ass again.

“You’re a naughty angel, huh? Breaking a sin and then not even apologizing for it. But this time I think you deserve a punishment!” He taunted but he was a demon so he didn’t care.

Just seeing her pleasured face as he fucks his dick into her mouth was all he cared about. Y/n let out a whimper, she tried to pull away but Yeonjun’s grip on her hair tightened.

“I told you not to pull away, didn’t I? How dare you try to disobey me,” he growled and smacked her ass again until it was red with his hand print. Yeonjun ignored the tears that formed in her eyes.

His nails dug into her flesh and she cried out in pain. Y/n sobbed from the pain and pleasure that he caused her. But she never said anything, she knew that her cries meant nothing and wouldn’t stop him from doing what he pleased.

He slid his fingers in to her soaking wet pussy and thrusted them in and out of her, “fuck! You’re wet already, just by me torturing you? You dirty little slut, the celestial realm won’t you back now.”

Y/N continued to obey him and suck his dick until he let his load out into her pretty mouth. He cursed loudly and pulled his fingers out of her cunt and grabbed her chin.

Making her face him, he leaned in close with a dark smirk, “go on, drink up my angel.” He watched her swallow his cum as he watched with satisfaction.

As soon as he released her he flipped her around so that she was now facing the wall and spread her legs. Y/N couldn’t help but moan and wince from the painful bruises.

The heavenly mark on her back was still present and he grazed it gently with his fingers. “You won’t have this for much longer. Seeing you look this pretty, I think I might keep you as my toy forever.” He said before ramming his dick into her cunt.

The loud scream she made caused him to smirk once again.

“Damn it, angel, you feel so fucking good. Are you enjoying yourself so far?” He asked as he fucked her hard and fast, her pained cries turning him on once again.

When she didn’t reply he pressed her clit down with his free hand while the other slapped her ass again, “I said, Are you enjoying so far?”

“Yes. . . Yeonjun. . . More,” she cried out.

despite the pain she secretly enjoyed it. And at this moment, she would continue to enjoy it as much as she could. Her inner walls clenching at his every move, the sound of their bodies slapping together growing louder as he fucked her harder and faster.

“More? More what?” He grinned as he slowed down making her mewl by his sudden speed change. “Say it or else I am going to make you cum right here and now. I know you want it. Your pussy’s dripping, just begging to be fucked.”

y/N whimpered at his words, “fuck me more, Yeonjun please, fuck me,” she begged.

Yeonjun picked up his speed again, he looked at her back, the symbol on her shoulder blade slowly fading. Soon it would disappear completely and everyone in the celestial realm would forget about her.

“Please fuck me harder, Yeonjun, please,” she cried out desperately wanting him to satisfy her.

“Oh God, you’re driving me wild,” Yeonjun laughed and his hands griped her hips roughly.

Yeonjun shifted her position. She was now on her back and her legs spread open, one leg was over his shoulder as he fucked her harder and faster. He wanted to watch her face when she cums.

“You want to cum, huh? I won’t allow you until I say, you got that, My angel?” he teased but she couldn’t hold on any longer.

She came all over Yeonjun’s dick as soon as he told her not too. This made him mad but he forced himself to hold on until she finished. It took her only seconds after he stopped moving inside of her, he felt her thigh shaking against his shoulder.

“You’re such a bad little wore,” he smirked. “Because of that, I’m going to fuck you until I say we’re done. No matter how many times you cum.” He said and started thrusting inside her again.

As they both fucked like animals he whispered into her ear, “your tears are making me want to rip you apart, angel. If you’re not careful I might accidentally rip your wings off.”

That did it, he pushed himself deeper inside her again causing her to gasp and try to push herself away from him. Yeonjun pulled Y/N back to him and wrapped his arms around her. He held her tightly as he rammed his dick in and out of her, feeling each little pulse and thrust.

“Your mark has disappeared, Angel. That means you’re mine now,” he grunted heavily as his eyes locked on y/n’s. “That means I get to torture and fuck you as much as I want. . . And you’re going to enjoy every moment of it.”

“I’m all yours...Y-yeonjun..” she gasped out as she lost control of her emotions.

He took that as an agreement and forced himself into her further. Y/N screamed and cried out from pain and pleasure. He didn’t give a shit about her pain. All he cared about was his lust and obsession for her.

After she had fully orgasmed for the second time, she passed out. He removed himself from her body and set her down on his bed. He hoped to get another few rounds in but he will let her rest up for now.

Yeonjun looked down at y/n’s passed out form and huffed to himself. The marks on her body from the torture chamber to now fucking in his bed was like a dream to him.

He tucked her into his bed and climbed in next to her. Yeonjun didn’t mind that she was just unconscious and limp on underneath him, he loved that she wasn’t trying to run away anymore. He pulled her body closer to him and kissed the top of her head gently.

“Sleep well my angel,” he whispered.

Despite his torture and sexual pleasure towards her, his evil demon heart fluttered especially now that she was his. . . Forever.

#tomorrow x together #txt #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x you #fanfiction #fanfic #txt x fem reader #yeonjun txt #txt yeonjun #yeonjun tomorrow x together #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun x you #yeonjun x female reader #yeonjun x y/n #choi yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #smut #smut x reader #yeonjun choi

[hijinxinprogress]

Young justice and the titans not getting along makes no sense to me. You’re telling me the titans did dumb shit and hated being micromanaged by the league but then a couple years later they’re doing the same thing?? that’s so dumb?? the titans are like “god you remember what we were doing when we were their age?? Were we that small?? Fuck, do you know what we’re supposed to do besides feed small people?? This would be so much easier if any of us went to therapy”

The titans help yj get away with shit all the time

“Young Justice just blew up one of Luthor’s vacation homes, did you know about this?? Where are they!?” “Who’s young justice? It’s not my fault…I plead the fifth…?”

Kori has claimed Kon and now has beef with Luthor and Clark

Besides Wally, Bart is closest with Kori and they trade stories about their homes bc it’s nice to talk to someone who’s gets it

Greta and Garth are like sitting at the bottom of a pool and gossiping about their teams

YJ and the titans have city wide manhunt games once a month and the jl hates it bc they wake up to their children trending bc they’re jumping off buildings or breaking into civilians’ houses to get away from each other

They race spaceships if they’re not on planet

Greta and Garth are the worst gossips so they just tell each other absurd things about their teammates completely aware that everyone will know within the next 4 hours

Everyone else makes jokes about how Kons what would happen if Kori and Nightwing had a son (he has anger issues, curly hair, he’s alternative, isn’t white, & he’s the mom friend)

Roy and Cissie only compete amongst themselves bc everyone was so sick of them winning that they started cheating or in Kori’s case incinerating the targets

One time he was talking to Kori about mental health stuff and she’s comforting him and mentions that “yeah you get that from nightwing” and nightwing cuts in “Kori, you do that too?? Don’t lie to him”

Whenever Kon loses his temper he’s not afraid of people thinking less of him for it bc it always sparks up the never ending debate about whether Nightwing or Starfire are responsible for Kons temper

“NO FUCK THIS, FUCK YOU, AND FUCK HIM, YOU FUCKING-” “he gets that from you” “he’s floating rn wdym” “yeah his fucking eyes are glowing that’s definitely Kori’s temper” “look at him doesn’t his face remind you of when kori was pissed after I broke my collarbone?” “no listen dick has that same crease between his eyebrows when he’s mad”

“I’m your leader, assholes” “rn all you are is the leading cause of that baby’s short temper”

Kori helped Kon with controlling his powers bc Clark wasn’t gonna do it

Wally and Bart get along!! From the beginning 

Besides Nightwing Tim is closest with Vic not even bc they’re fucking nerds but bc they’re both so unbelievably petty

Anita and Rachel should not be left alone together bc they’re always doing nonsense with magic

They mentioned air boarding so Tim and Vic are trying to find the schematics for a hoverboard…💀 Anita and Rachel figured out how to make people feel like they’re suffocating without killing them or doing permanent damage (all the scarring is psychological)

Cissie and Donna get along really well and Cassie pretends they’re jealous

Also, Cassie gets along really well with Roy and Cissie will loudly complain about her older brother hating her

the jl is so tired bc they thought the titans would be helping them with yj and they were wrong

#young justice #young just us #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #kon el #anita fite #greta hayes #tim drake #cissie king jones #dc impulse #wonder girl #superboy #dc empress #dc secret #red robin #arrowette #dc titans #dick grayson #koriand'r #victor stone #rachel roth #garth of shayeris #roy harper #donna troy #wally west #nightwing #starfire #dc cyborg #dc raven #dc tempest

[dearshelby]

Basis | T.S

Summary: "His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash"

A/N: This is far from my initial idea, this was meant to be a smut, but even if tommy uses sex as a coping mechanism I thought he deserved to be comforted in a healthier way

The house was uncharacteristically cold for an autumn night, the wind whistled through the windows crevices and that was the only sound to be heard, even the maids' heels were silenced by the fall of the night.

The crash of the stock market affected the Shelby company to levels no one could foresee, since everyone assumed their currency was safe in Michael's hands. They were far from bankruptcy, as a matter of fact they would never have to worry about going back to the Watery Lane again, but the concern was inevitable.

The big clock in the hallway announced midnight and Y/N jumped at the sound of the heavy pendulum, usually the maids kept the clock from making any noise so it wouldn't disturb Tommy's light sleep, it seemed that tonight they forgot to.

Before entering her shared bedroom, she waited to see if the bang had woken up her baby, no cry was heard, making it feel like she was alone in the house.

However, she wasn't, Tommy sat at her dressing table brooding with a glass of whiskey, his shoulders hung low and he barely noticed her presence. She knew that state of him very well, he was stuck into his own head, quick and concerning thoughts ran in his head in a down spiral.

She approached him slowly, as if he was a wounded war horse, a strong, powerful animal who mostly attacked out of fear of being hurt again. Her gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, the tense muscles fitted on her palm begging to be looked after.

All Tommy offered as an answer was a slow blink and another sip of his whiskey, the bottle was full earlier that evening and almost empty by then. Y/N didn't doubt he had a high resistance to alcohol and yet, she couldn't help but to worry.

"So what have you decided? I know Linda didn't let you speak," she referred to the family meeting they had.

"Nothing yet," Tommy mumbled, "fucking nothing,"

She took the glass from his hand before he could take another sip, a few drops trickled on his trousers and he cursed trying to take it back. In a quick gulp, she finished the drink.

"What are you doing, Tom?" she scolded.

"Y/N please," he sighed, "not now, not fucking now,"

"Look at state of you, stand up, Tommy," she demanded, but he didn't move at all, "fucking stand up!"

Tommy's eyes widened as she pulled him up with all her strength, he stumbled on the stool he was sitting on and firmly held onto her arms, certainly the spots would get sore later.

"Are you drunk?" she asked quietly, the look in her eyes didn't hide the concern and Tommy didn't have the heart to push her care away.

However, he didn't answer, instead his rough hands traveled to her nape and tangled his fingertips on her hair. At that moment he was unable to express the relief only her presence brought, he was certain that he'd go mad if he had to deal with everything alone.

Tommy stared at her gentle eyes and she stared back. The face she very much loved was forming wrinkles, gray hair hid itselves in his well drawn eyebrows, above everything he looked exhausted.

Cupping his cheeks, she traced the scars on his cheek and under his chin, a wave of overwhelming affection washed over her,

"You're my basis, Tommy," she whispered, "I know I don't say it often, I know I don't say it enough, but the truth is that none of this would make sense without you,"

Tommy hid the shock her words caused by looking down at his own feet, he was beyond surprised. So he wasn't just an income, someone actually cared for him, the revelation nearly brought tears to his eyes, he always thought being loved would be comfortable and relieving, but it only formed a knot in his throat.

He didn't see himself as worthy of love, especially not hers. Tommy couldn't tell exactly when he started to think she should leave him, he only thought someday she would and he wouldn't have the right to complain, because he was well aware dealing with him was a burden.

Noticing a single tear running down his face, she quickly brushed it off and pulled him to her arms. His chin rested on her shoulder as he held his breath, a trick to keep himself from crying he learnt in his childhood.

Nonetheless, he wasn't able to keep up with it when her hands traveled through his back. While one held the back of his neck, the other traced his spine with gentle, yet firm pressure, next moving to his shoulder blades and lower back.

At last, her embrace became tighter around him, assuring Tommy's silent cry it was okay to come out, if it wasn't for the movement of his back and the tears wetting her clothes, she wouldn't believe such simple words had that effect on him. The truth was, Tommy was much more fragile than he let show.

"It's alright, let it out," she soothed, petting the shaven back of his head, "I got you,"

Five, ten, twenty minutes passed and Tommy started to try controlling his breath, he knew that if he fully let himself go his cry would become compulsive, the tears would run down without control and turn an intimate moment into a humiliating one.

Slowly, he breathed in and out, laying his head on her shoulder. She tried to make eye contact, but Tommy quickly hid his face on her neck, he'd hate to be seen with red eyes and wet cheeks.

He held onto her clothes tightly, at the same time her scent calmed him down, the gentleness she offered made him want to cry again.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I'm fucking sorry,"

"It's alright, love, don't apologize," guiding him to bed, she held him in her arms, a firm and yet tender embrace.

Running a hand through his hair, Y/N respected his unwillingness to be seen, the bridge of his nose fitted on her neck as his wet eyelashes brushed on her skin.

His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash.

Eventually, Tommy's eyelids got heavy, her warmth relaxed his tired muscles and he felt safe enough to let the worries slip away. He fell asleep with his head on her shoulder.

Realizing he was asleep, Y/N took the opportunity of doing the same, in the last few months sleeping near him had become a rare occurrence.

Hours went by, enough for the wind gusts to dissipate and a storm to form. The heavy, gray clouds covered the moon in the dark sky, releasing thick rain drops that hit the window with brutal force.

The noise woke Tommy up, he lifted his head to see his wife in deep slumber, he didn't know how much time passed, but he felt less tired, it had been a long time since he took a nap without waking up from time to time.

Peeking at the clock at the bed table, he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, four in the morning wasn't exactly a proper hour to wake up, especially if he had slept past midnight.

A sleepy noise from Y/N captured his focus again, his eyes wandered to the drawer in which he kept his opium bottle, but he quickly came back at her. Finally, he decided to not disturb her sleep, well aware he probably wouldn't fall asleep again, Tommy snuggled to her and closed his eyes.

He wouldn't say it back, but she was also his basis.

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

[redheartedtramp]

KA-DON!

Jaune: *pins Weiss to a tree*

Weiss: Ooh, Jaune~ You're being so direct today. Did something happen?

Jaune: I just thought you'd like this kind of thing.

Jaune: *proceeds to grip Weiss' chin and tilts her head up* Do you?

Weiss: Ooh, I definitely like this.

As the two get closer, there is a loud clearing of the throat. Both of them look over their shoulder to see Ruby.

Weiss: ....Ruby, do you, uh, mind? We're-

Jaune: *jumps off of Weiss and starts running*

Weiss: J-Jaune?!

Jaune: Nononononononono-

Ruby pulls out a dart gun and shoots it at Jaune's neck, causing him to fall over. His aura flashes and then shatters as Jaune convulses and screams.

Weiss: Jaune! Ruby, what are you doing?!

Jaune: You fucking bitch! You crazy fucking-

Ruby: *pulls out a collapsable scythe that is not Crescent Rose and she dashes at Jaune, then casually lops his head off* That's another one.

Weiss: Ruby?! What the fuuuuuuuuuu-?! *clutches her head as she falls to her knees* Wh...what's going on?!

Ruby: Don't worry, you're just going through Psychic Shock. Your brain will catch up in a minute.

Weiss: RUBY, WHAT IS THIS?! WHY DID YOU CALL JAUNE?!

Ruby: He wasn't Jaune.

Weiss: ...WHAT?!

Ruby: Well, not your Jaune. Just like how I'm not your Ruby.

Weiss: YOU'RE NOT MAKING SEN-

Weiss then sees a memory of Jaune carrying her through the woods when she broke her leg. Then, the memory goes up in flames as the memory erases itself.

Weiss: W-wha...what was that?

Ruby?: That's the Psychic Shock. Those false memories are being erased from your mind.

Weiss: False memories?

Ruby?: You see, Weiss, this is not your Jaune. This Jaune is part of a cabal of Multiversal Jaunes. They're variants of a 'True Jaune', the dorky, try-hard, endearing man who wants to be a hero. These Jaunes, who we call 'Jaune Parasites' because they all have implanted themselves with a psychic parasite. It feeds on their aura, which they can produce plenty of, and they use their psychic powers to implant false memories into others in an attempt to insert themselves either into the lives of others or insert themselves deeper and make themselves more important.

Weiss: But...why?

Ruby?: To conquer. Mostly so they can have any woman, or women, they want in large, multiverse-level harems. It's humorous in a way, since conquering multiple universes are almost a secondary goal to them.

Weiss: Then...what are you?

Ruby?: Oh, right. I'm Ruby Rose. Or, well, not your Ruby. I'm Ruby-837.

Weiss: You're the 837th Ruby?

Ruby-837: Actually, my serial number is Ruby 837-93 GAMMA, but let's keep this simple.

Weiss: Then...is the Jaune I know...you know...

Ruby-837: Dead? No. He's in a broom closet on the second floor.

Weiss: Oh my God, how long has he been in there?! Days?! Weeks?! Months?!

Ruby-837: About 20 minutes.

Weiss: ...Oh.

Ruby-837: Come on, Weiss. Keep up. Psychic parasites. They implant a lifetime's worth of memories into your head. Though, it's good I caught this early. Your Jaune would've been infected with the parasite and made into another 'alpha male stud' to start trying to conquer other universes.

Weiss: That's horrible!

Ruby-837: Yeah. The fact he was knocked out though at least means this is a decent Jaune. So, you know, if you have any actual feelings for him, then he's clean.

Ruby's wrist starts beeping.

Ruby-837: Oh, gotta go. Got a Code Gold going on. It's a pretty big deal. *takes her scythe and cuts open a portal* Have a good life, Weiss.

Weiss: Wait! I have one more question!

Ruby-837: ...Alright, but make it fast. I've got a multi-dimensional tyrant to stop.

Weiss: ...What...what happened to your Jaune? Did he go bad?

Ruby-837: *giggles* Weiss, Jaunes don't go bad. *she pulls up her blouse and shows multiple scars around her torso. There's a burn mark in the shape of Jaune's crest under her ribs* Some are just more selfish than others.

Weiss: Oh my God!

Ruby-837: *lowers her shirt* Your Jaune is a good one. So even if you don't slap a ring on him, make sure he stays a good man. I'd hate to have to come back and cut 'em down. *leaves through the portal*

#rwby #rwby shitpost #weiss schnee #jaune arc #ruby rose #anti-white knight #RWBYVerse AU

[gabseyoo]

all i am is you

pairing: fushiguro toji x fem!reader | wc: 5,2k.

summary: fushiguro toji is a smart man, smart enough to always get what he wants. and what he wants now is power, over you.

warnings: mean!toji, sub!reader, dark content, toxic relationship, manipulation, age gap, daddy issues, cheating, emotional dependency, humiliation, crying, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, oral sex (m), face fucking, hair pulling, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, crampie, aftercare, toji being an asshole tbh.

a/n: wrote this ‘cause i suddenly felt mad with toxic men, and poor toji had to pay, sorry∼. this fic is just toxic, i don't think this is my best work, but i kinda like the result, remember it's nothing but fiction and dark content, enjoy :) reblogs are appreciated <3.

Your love story with Toji Fushiguro started simply. Nothing fancy or out of a romantic comedy. 

Your eyes meeting his in a coffee shop you used to frequent, he was new there you knew, no doubt you would have noticed him before. Tall, handsome, a scar across his mouth that only made him look more attractive, and he certainly looked older. 

He was working on his laptop at a corner table in the back while you took a seat to do the same but at the other end of the cafeteria, right in front of the window. You swore you could feel his gaze on you a couple of times. 

Three days later you saw him again, same place, almost the same time. Your eyes met his again as always, but this time he smiled at you, you did the same and then tried to ignore him, which you knew would be an almost impossible mission since your eyes seemed to betray you, wanting to admire the beauty of that man. 

Two more encounters passed before the action that “broke the ice” happened; when you called the waitress to pay for your order, but she told you with a smile that your bill had already been paid. You looked at her in disbelief, thinking it was a mistake. When she pointed out that the handsome man in the back had paid it, you tried your best not to blush. You’re almost sure that the waitress wanted to punch you since you asked her if she was serious about three more times to corroborate if it wasn’t a joke or even a dream.

It was real, but there was no way you were going to let him pay the bill just like that. So after thinking long and hard, and putting aside your nerves, you got up from your seat to head over to him. 

“Excuse me? Sir?” You said in a timid voice when you were in front of him. The man stopped typing on his laptop to look at the source of the voice, smirking sideways when he noticed it was you.

“Yes?” God, his voice was attractive too. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, but—” You cleared your throat before continuing, “The waitress told me that you paid for my bill, and although I’m grateful, I can’t accept it.”

He sighed as he leaned back in the seat, crossing his arms, the smile never leaving his face. “Why not?”

“I can’t let a stranger pay for my food.” You muttered, but before he opened his mouth to say anything, you decided to continue, “Why did you do it?”

“Just because I wanted to.” He shrugged, downplaying the situation. “I don’t need another reason.” What a lie. 

“I’ll pay you back.” You said as you tried to grab your wallet, but his mocking laughter made you stop. “Why are you laughing?”

“You’re adorable.” He said it so casually, almost making you blush, yes, almost. “I won’t take the money. Don’t even try.”

“I insist.”

He rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee, you tried to stand your ground, avoiding looking at the way his arm muscles showed through the long-sleeved shirt he wore. Once he returned the cup to the table, he looked up at you again, but now more seriously. 

“You want to pay me that badly?” You nodded. “Then why don’t you sit with me?”

You opened your eyes in shock and gulped before you spoke, “What?”

“Sit with me.” He gestured to the seat in front of him before resting his chin on his hand, waiting for your decision. 

You took one last look around the cafeteria while thinking a thousand things per second. It would be okay if you accepted his proposal, right? You were in a public place, surrounded by people, he was nice, he paid for your food. Besides, he was the man who had taken over some of your thoughts with his perfect figure and the mystery that surrounded him for the last few days. 

You sighed before taking a seat, and he couldn’t be more grateful that you did. He extended his hand to you, which, somewhat nervously, you took, and he gave it a light squeeze. Wow, your hand felt pretty small compared to his. 

“I’m Toji.” You gave him a smile before telling him your name. 

Yeah. Nothing extraordinary. 

After you had the opportunity to learn more about this mysterious man, you knew there would be no turning back. Your mind was possessed by him just minutes after you sat down; not only was he handsome, but he was quite funny and interesting. Maybe it was too soon, but you liked him, and at that moment you wished that wasn’t a one time thing.  

He was a little older than you, well, a little too old. Fifteen years wasn’t a big difference, was it?

But if you didn’t care, he cared even less. 

When you first spoke in the cafeteria, Toji did so with because he wanted to take you to bed with him; you were very attractive after all. But after having a conversation with you, he wanted much more. 

You were everything he was looking for, a young, beautiful, intelligent and wealthy woman. 

But above all, manipulable. 

Toji knew you had issues. In fact, he noticed a few weeks after meeting you, when you started telling him about your family life. 

How your father never paid attention to you and was hardly ever home, leaving you thousands of dollars to spend as compensation for his lack of presence. Also, how he slept with other women and didn’t even bother to hide it. On the other hand, there was your mother, who spent her time being a depressed housewife thanks to her husband’s constant cheating, smoking and drinking at all hours. You even told him how you once heard your poor mom beg your father not to leave her even though he was the one who cheated on her. In the end, he left, leaving a void that Toji wanted to fill.

What he thought was quite nice—and sad, of course—was how calmly and normally you talked about it. As if it were the most normal thing in the world. 

Toji took his time in gaining your trust, always telling you what you wanted, or rather, needed to hear. Hiding his true intentions under a smile and nice words. He had a goal, that you fall in love with him so hard that you wouldn’t know how to live without him. And oh honey, you couldn’t have made it easier for him. 

You were just so vulnerable. You only wanted to feel loved and wanted, and he’d give you that. He would make you feel like the most special woman in the universe.

Asking you if you had eaten, how was your day, how was college, if you needed anything, buying gifts, telling you how much he loved you and cared about you. Little details that even though they are normal in a relationship, meant so much more to you. 

He knew what he was doing. 

One day, you were at his house, he was listening attentively to you telling about how your essay had been the best in your class, when you finished, he took your cheeks in his hands and gave you a short kiss before saying: “I’m so proud of you.”

You didn’t know what happened at that moment, it was as if something moved in your chest, the tears started to come on their own as you heard the words you wished you had heard all your life. 

“Honey, why are you crying?” He asked, wiping your tears with his thumbs. 

You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t even sure why his words shocked you so much, so you just hugged him and mumbled a «thank you», his mischievous smile adorned his face as he caressed your back in comfort. 

When you told your friends about him, some of them were excited about you dating an older man, but one of them was worried about you. But you justified yourself by saying that guys your age were immature and stupid, that they could never give you what someone older could, swearing that you didn’t have any issues. Toji thought you looked pretty cute when you said that. But of course, he didn’t like it at all that this friend of yours told you that he wasn’t good for you, that he might be using you and other shit. So he told you that the best thing you could do, if you wanted to stay with him, was to not listen to her words and walk away, so you did. 

You never had any suspicion of what he was doing with you, even if someone else told you, how could you? You were blinded by his love. Toji was your boyfriend, things were serious with him; your mom had met him and said she thought he was decent (Honestly, she didn’t give a shit and that played to Toji’s advantage). You met his ten-year-old son and got along well with him, the boy adored you. Everything was fine, there was no possibility that he was manipulating you. 

For his part, he couldn’t be happier with the results he was getting. You were like his trophy girlfriend. His ego soared to its limits when his friends would look at you with hungry eyes, some even wanting to make a move on you, but you wouldn’t even turn to look at them, entranced by the man holding your hand. But then, they would make fun of you behind your back, asking how you could be so foolish as to fall in love with someone like Fushiguro. And he, after laughing at his friends’ comments, would just shrug it off, telling them they were just jealous. 

After a year and a half of relationship, you were at a point where you would do anything he asked for, you couldn’t say no to him. Anything to keep him happy and satisfied, and more important, to keep him by your side. And he loved that power he had over you; he knew that if he asked you to get on all fours on the floor and bark, you would do it. But don’t worry, he wouldn’t do that, he liked you too much to humiliate you in such a way, although the idea was not out of the question. 

Fuck, he was destroying you and couldn’t even feel bad about it. 

And please, don’t think he didn’t have feelings for you, he fucking did. It may have started as a game, but it had become something close to an obsession. That’s why his actions, even if it was wrong, because he knew it was. Taking advantage of someone’s traumas wasn’t very moral, but he was never a moral man to begin with, if he was, he wouldn’t have set his eyes on you in the first place.

Yes, he loves you. But listen, it was never said that he at least tried to act like a good boyfriend and respect the relationship. 

Toji grabbed his phone from the nightstand, a picture of his beautiful girlfriend as his wallpaper smiling at him as he unlocked it to open his calling app and press your name decorated with a heart. He held the phone to his ear waiting for you to answer, at the same time, he winked and blew a kiss to the woman who at that moment was smilingly walking out the door of the motel he was at. Sure, he would never fuck other women under the roof of his house, in the place he used to share with you, in the bed where he fucked you. How thoughtful he was, someone give him a prize.  

“Hey.” You answered the call in a sweet voice. 

“Hi. How are you, baby?” He asked, getting out of bed to put on his boxers, which were lying across the room. 

“Good, I just got out of my last class. How about you, love?” You spoke as you said goodbye to your friends, who rolled their eyes when they realized that the person who had called you was your boyfriend. 

“I’m just finishing some work.” Before you could ask him what he was working on, he continued, “Have you eaten anything yet?” He placed the phone between his shoulder and his ear to put on his pants.

“No, I’m on my way to the library, I need to finish my essay.” 

“You’re such a good girl, you know?” He smiled when he heard your shy laugh as he finished putting on his shirt. “You have time for me tonight, right?”

Usually you would respond with a ‘sure’ as soon as he finished speaking, but you kept quiet, Toji clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“You don’t?”

“Hum. I wanted to tell you that—” You couldn’t control the nervousness in your voice. “A friend of mine is having a party tonight, and, he invited me.” 

“He?” His voice was an octave lower, annoyance taking hold of him.

Fuck, what did you get yourself into?

“What’s this guy’s name?” He asked.

“Satoru, but— my girl friends are going too.” 

“Look, honey. I don’t care if your friends go, but I’m offended that you’d rather go to a party than spend time with me.”

Of course, there were times when you wanted to do things outside the box that Toji liked to keep you in, and on these occasions, he had to put you in your place, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t?

“It’s not like that, I just—”

“Listen to me, you’re not going.”

“But—”

On another occasion, you wouldn’t have insisted. But for some reason you really wanted to go, maybe because of your friends’ complaints that because of your boyfriend you didn’t go out with them anymore, maybe because finals were coming up and you didn’t have time to have fun in your last months at college. Maybe it was a combination of both.  

But, even if you didn’t want to admit it, it was true. Your time was divided between two things, school and Toji. Yes, sometimes, you would go out with your friends shopping or to a coffee shop, but you preferred not to as they would always try to tell you how your older boyfriend was no good for you. Even when they were excited about the idea in the beginning, as time went on they realized many things that you didn’t. 

Toji was always jealous and possessive, even when he didn’t put into practice what he demanded so much of you. He didn’t like you going out to those college parties, where a lot of hormonal boys would be rolling their dirty eyes at you. But what was now getting on his nerves was how you thought you could just walk away to a party without even asking his opinion. He hated not being in control. 

The good thing—for him—it’s that he knew how to get his way, exactly what he had to say and do to make you submit. 

“In case you no longer want to be with me, I’ll understand.”

At that moment, you felt as if something inside you was breaking into a thousand pieces. Your stomach churned, just as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. 

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant, I just wanted to—”

“Honey, I know what you meant, if you’d rather go to another man’s house for a party, it would be better if we break up so you can go with a clear mind.”

You stood in the middle of the campus practically shaking, while he was already inside his car, fiddling with the keys between his fingers.

It was funny how just an hour ago he was inside another woman, but here he is, making a bit of drama. That’s how blatant he was.

“Stop it! I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I won’t go.” You said in the middle of your crying, trying to ignore the curious looks of passing students. “I’ll go with you, I’m sorry, it was just a stupid idea.”

A moment of silence formed, where only his breathing and your crying could be heard on the call. You felt your heart want to burst out of your chest as you waited for his answer. 

Toji just wanted to torture you a little, so after keeping quiet for a moment, he decided to answer you while a smirk formed on his face, “That’s my girl.”

You sighed with relief when you heard his words.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, wiping away your tears with your hand. 

“It’s okay, stop crying, sweetie. I’ll pick you up at eight, okay?”

The clock showed ten o’clock, you were on his couch, your body resting on his while you watched a movie. His hands were on your back underneath your shirt, occasionally caressing your skin down to your butt, covered only by your underwear since Toji had shed your shorts moments before. 

Even when his touch felt good, your mind was somewhere else.

“It’s everything okay, baby? You had been unusually quiet since we were in the car.” He whispered, taking your chin in his hand to make you look at him.

“It’s nothing.” Your answer made him frown. It was obvious what was wrong with you, but he wanted to hear it come from your pretty lips.

“What do you mean it’s nothing? Come on, tell me. I’m listening.” He sat with you still on his lap, his hands coming down to caress your thighs.  

“Promise me you won’t be mad at me.”

“Just tell me.” 

You took a deep breath, gaining courage before speaking,

“You scared me today, I really thought you were going to break up with me.” You said with some nervousness in your voice as you fiddled with the gold chain hanging from his neck.

“I would never want to break up with you, you know that. But sometimes it seems like you leave me no choice. You make me believe that you don’t want to be with me.” 

“I want to be with you, more than anything. I just wanted to hang out with my friends.” His grip on your thighs grew stronger with your words, and though you tried, you couldn’t stop the next ones, “I don’t know why that’s such a problem.”

He rolled his eyes before bringing his face dangerously close to yours, you could tell you had angered him. “You wanna know why? Do I really need to explain it?” 

“What bothers me is that you think you have the freedom to do whatever you want when you are with me.” He continued, “My opinion doesn’t matter to you?”

You gulped before answering, “It does.”

“So why are you acting like a bitch? Why was this party so important anyway?” You were looking down into your lap, trying to avoid his gaze, just like a scolded child. He cupped your face, squeezing your cheeks with his hand harder than necessary. “Don’t tell me you were expecting to see someone?”

“What? No!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t think of any other reason. Is that Satoru guy? That’s why you wanted to go to his fucking party, huh? So he could fuck you.” 

Toji noticed how tears threatened to flow from your eyes. He knew he was exaggerating, you could never cheat on him even by mistake, but his obsession with having control over you was bigger than common sense, and if he needed to create drama, he would.

“No! He’s just my friend, I swear! I’ll never—” You tried to explain, but your words were interrupted by his.

“Shut up.”

He grabbed you by the waist to pull you off his lap and position you on the couch while he stood up to look down at you with his arms crossed, making the veins in them stand out. 

You had always felt much smaller than him, but now it seemed you were so much more.

“Maybe this is what I get for dating a younger woman.”

You felt your soul leave your body, the tears you had been holding back slipped down your cheeks. Where was all this going?

“Don’t say that.”

“I think the best would be to end our relationship here and now.” 

He turned and started walking towards his room, you quickly stood up to follow him and took his arm, making him stop a few steps away.

“Toji! Please… please.” Your voice cracked thanks to your growing tears. “I’d never cheat on you!”

He clicked his tongue and turned to look at you.

“Why are you crying? Shouldn’t you be happy? So you won’t have anyone to stop you from going to parties and fucking other men?” With his free hand he took yours to remove it from his arm. “Take this as a favor.”

No, he couldn’t leave you. He can’t. What would you be without him? You loved him. You needed him. And you would do whatever it took to keep him from leaving. 

So you didn’t think twice when you got down on your knees on the floor and grabbed the edge of his shirt. 

This wasn’t the first time you had gotten down on your knees before Toji, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Please, don’t leave me.” You begged amid sobs. “Please.”

At that moment you saw yourself reflected in your mother, those nights she begged your father not to leave. It was humiliating. But that didn’t matter, because even if it didn’t work for her, it could work for you, right?

“Why should I?” He questioned, cocking his head. 

“I’m nothing without you, please don’t leave. I love you.” You leaned your head against his leg, tears wetting his pants as your fists wrinkled his shirt. 

Toji almost felt bad. But god, seeing you on your knees begging him not to leave you, his ego went through the roof. He wished you could see how beautiful you looked at that moment. Having that kind of power over someone was such a turn-on that it couldn’t compare to the effect of any drug.

He brought one of his hands to your head, stroking your hair as a kind of comfort as you cried. 

“You love me?” You looked up at him when he whispered his question, he took the opportunity to wipe away your tears with his thumb.

“I do. A lot.” 

Toji smiled mischievously and ran his tongue across his lips before speaking.

“Show me then.”

You understood what he meant, so you quickly grabbed the band of his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his half-hard member. You took it in your hand to start stroking it up and down. 

There was no other way you liked to please Toji more than sexually. At this point you were practically an expert in everything he liked, and you were more than proud of it. You liked to make him feel good, whatever the circumstance. And if that’s what he wanted now, you’d be more than glad to do it, much more if it would make him stay.

When he was fully erect you licked the tip which caused him to gasp  and his muscles to tense. You didn’t want to make him wait any longer, so you took him all the way into your mouth at once, moving your head back and forth, flicking your tongue at the same time as you stroked with your hand what didn’t fit in your mouth.

You put it all in your mouth, your nose bumping into his pubic hair, you managed to stick your tongue out and lick his balls. Toji threw his head back, he loved when you did that.

“Shit.” He groaned taking your hair in his fist to keep you still, so he could fuck himself into your mouth. 

His pace was brutal from the start, your tears kept falling as you did your best to breathe through your nose and avoid your gag reflex. You didn’t want to fail him.

“This is what you wanted to do with him? Deepthroat his dick like you do with mine.” He asked between gasps. 

He knew you couldn’t answer with his cock torturing your poor throat, so he continued,

“But you’re mine, right?” He smiled as he closed his eyes, feeling his climax near. “Yes—god—you fucking are.” He mumbled more to himself. 

Toji stopped moments before his orgasm, letting you enjoy a moment of freedom before he forced you to your feet by pulling your hair to kiss you, his tongue colliding with yours and biting your lip to such an extent that he could taste a little blood. 

He started walking without breaking the kiss until he was in front of the couch, where he turned you around and pushed you with your back facing him, your knees rested in the plush while you supported your body with your hands on the backrest. 

Your boyfriend remained standing to practically tear your underwear, which ended up poorly hanging from your leg. Then, he leaned in close enough until his lips brushed against your ear. One of his hands took your hair in a tight grip and the other began to caress the skin of your ass.  

“It makes me sick just thinking that you were going to put a party over me today.” He whispered, moving his hand to your crotch and begin to make circles on your clit with two of his fingers. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry.” You moaned, closing your eyes to the stimulation. Tears kept coming out of your eyes, it was amazing how you had never stopped crying. What he said kept piercing your mind.

“I know you’re sorry, baby, I know you are. But I can’t just forget about that.” Toji inserted his fingers inside you, moving them slowly in and out, wetting them with your fluids. “It just makes me wonder if I’m wasting my time with you.”

“Please, don’t say that.” His words hurt you like stabs in the chest, and he said them for that very purpose. He took the fight too far? No doubt about it. Did he care? You fucking wish.

“I can say whatever I want.”

He withdrew his fingers to take his cock and align it with your entrance, sliding the tip across your labia to lubricate himself. It didn’t take long when he pushed himself all the way inside you, groaning at the sensation of your walls around him.

He grabbed you by the hips to support himself so he could start ramming you without mercy. The sound of skin colliding echoed in the room, your body moved back and forth by the force of him thrusting his hips.

You tried to suppress your moans as you felt him sink deep inside you, but it became almost impossible when one of his hands reached down to stimulate your clit again. 

“Fuck.” He moaned when he felt you squeeze him. How could he not be obsessed with you when you were so tight? 

Toji placed his free hand on your neck as he pressed his chest against your back in an attempt to feel you closer to him. You could hear his accelerated breathing in your ear causing you to tingle. 

You felt your orgasm begin to build in your belly, he knew your body better than anyone, so he pressed his fingers a little harder and quickened his pace to make you cum faster. 

You threw your head forward on the backrest when you finally reached your high, your legs faltered but Toji didn’t give you time to recover after the explosion of pleasure you felt as he chased his own climax, feeling in heaven when you came around his cock.

He put one leg up on the couch to give himself better support so he could thrust deeper into you as he moved his hands to dig his nails into the flesh of your hips. 

“I’m gonna cum.” He announced amidst his groans. 

You didn’t even get a chance to tell him to pull out when he was already filling your pussy with his warm cum. He even continued to slide in and out at a slow pace until he was sure he was done. 

Toji stayed inside you for a few minutes while he caught his breath before pulling out of you, he also spent a few seconds appreciating how his white liquid came out of your hole before adjusting his pants and taking off his shirt to use it to clean the excess fluids from your bodies.

Once he finished, he tossed the shirt across the room to sit on the couch next to you, patting his lap as a cue for you to sit on it. 

“Come here.” 

You did as he said, his hands automatically going to the skin of your ass to caress it as he began to leave wet kisses on your neck. You brought your hands to his head to stroke his black hair gently in an attempt to relax him. 

His green eyes met yours, he took advantage of the eye contact to appreciate your beauty. God, he felt so lucky to have a woman like you wrapped around his finger. 

“You’re so pretty.” He sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You smiled at his praise, your cheeks blushing slightly. 

“Toji? Is everything okay between us now?” You asked nervously. 

“It is, honey, don’t worry.” He replied squeezing your cheek a little. “You just have to understand that I want the best for both of us. What you did today made me believe that my opinion doesn’t matter to you.”

“It does matter. What you think is much more important than a stupid party.” You said, and he gave a half smile.

He placed a short kiss on your cheek before adding, “And I have to admit, it makes me insecure about you going to those kinds of parties, full of college boys that you might like better than this old man you’re dating.”

Yes, he was playing the victim. But you didn’t see it that way, you just saw your poor boyfriend feeling insecure because of you.

“I only want you, you know that, I don’t care about other guys, least of all those immature college guys.” You gave him a short kiss on the lips before continuing, “I’m sorry again, I don’t want you to feel that way ever again because of me.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged.

“I love you.” You said wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his shoulder. 

When you could no longer see his face, Toji smiled mischievously. Once again he had made you cry, once again he had made you beg on your knees for him, once again he had gotten away with taking advantage of your vulnerability. He destroyed you once again and still didn’t feel bad about it. 

He kissed your head before whispering in your ear, 

“I love you too.”

#𐀔 — mar wrote this. #— one shots #— jjk #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fic #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji x you #jjk toji

[calina12]

Also, holy FUCK, was episode 4 massive for Charlie's character!

Yes, she REALLY needed that reality check about how bad the lives of the sinners are she tries to help, but it also lead to Charlie taking her proper role for a solid second when she get angry at Valentino.

It's quite obvious to me that Vaggie will be the one to actually run the hotel, so it's Charlie's job to not only use her unique position as princess of hell to deal with heaven for her people's sake, she's also supposed to be protective mighty force her guests can find the save haven in they desperately need to escape their circumstances.

When any of their powerful abusers dare to enter the hotel it's HER job to put them in their place and away from their victims.

Her place isn't running the hotel, SHE'S supposed to be the hotel's and people's protector, and I'm so fucking hyped to see her growing into that role. To see her rip open that portal between hell and heaven for good to free her people herself if she fucking has to.

But episode 4 is also so important for Charlie because it showed us just how massive of a toll it took on her that her mother just up and left 7 years ago, and we were already told that Lucifer ain't the dad of the year either.

Angel forgiving her at the end of the episode meant so much to her because she feared so fucking badly that she ruined everything, he would hate her and leave forever, into a life she would have had had a hand in making worse.

Obviously she has massive abandonment issues and as Husker correctly stated: she's a bleeding heart who wants to solve everyone's problems except her own.

And she does that because very clearly she was highly neglected by her parents in her emotional needs, even if I don't put into question at all that they love her.

She desperately tries to help and find in others what she didn't get from her parents, to get a group of people she can finally trust and who won't abandone her, so she tries everything she can to solve everyone else's problems because that way she thinks she will "earn" being worthy of being loved and not abandoned.

So when she just showed up at Angel's work place to talk to Valentino without checking with Angel beforehand what she has to do to NOT cause him hell, and caused an absolute fucking disaster HE had to pay the whole price for and NOT her because of her privilege and immunity as Princess of Hell, that was literally one of the worst things for her she could have caused.

It hit all her insecurities in the worst ways possible. And I'm so glad that they had Angel say "thank you for caring about me" and not "thank you for trying" because that's not the same and what Charlie needed was indeed the former.

She really desperately needed to hear from him that the reason why he forgives her is that he understands that she did all of this because she CARES for him. That his reason for forgiving her has nothing to do with him prioritized anything else she can GIVE or provide over seeing HER.

Mind you, of course this whole disaster she caused can't be justified and it has no business ever happening again to such horrific degrees, she NEEDS to work through her own problems ASAP because the people who depend on her as the privileged and basically untouchable person in power who promised them protection can't continue paying the price for her actions

But this is a fictional story, so I'm talking about the narrative when I say that both Charlie's and Angel's characters needed this to happen for their development.

Just, good fucking God, let this have been the peak of Charlie's naivety and the incident she needed to start healing a deep scar in her heart. I love Charlie to pieces, please give us the pay-off now from the emotional development and what she learned by now so she can grow into the mighty mama bear she is meant to be without her unintentionally continuously hurting her adopted hurt cubs.

Because thats a factor I can't and won't ever ignore in her type of (main) character and in her leader role and privileged position/ status in all of this.

Fingers crossed, cause I'm so fucking ready to love this sweet broken girl with the heart of a lion, with every inch of my being.

#hazbin spoilers #hh spoilers #charlie morningstar #Hh episode 4 #Hazbin hotel

[stitchthesewords]

hello

Or grian coming back from dl and he needs not only a cane but hes suffering from a bad-but-temporary case of tinnitus and cant get out of bed and no one sees him for a few days until scar comes over to talk bc holy shit dl and finds Grian in need of help

EXPAND UPON THIS. I AM INTRIGUED. if u want no pressure <3

-catmaidetho

WHEEZING WHATS SO FUNNY IS THAT I HAVE BEEN. STARING AT A WORD DOC ALL DAY TRYING TO <- Girl who is so dead from her job

To start w what the delightful @hitheeprithee said to me earlier that made me. Absolutely fucking insane. But Scar gifting one of his canes to Grian in the post-DL return to HC because he's having trouble with both just walking bc of the aches in his body and the dizzyness caused by the disorientation of being shouted apart. And grian tries, really, to be appreciative, but scar's cane doesnt sit at the right height and he's awkward with it so he just stays in bed and then a few days later Scar sheepishly shows up with a custom made cane for Grian that's the right height and has feathers carved into it and just. hhhh.

But its like. Grian having to learn to rely on others. And I mean this in like the. I am physically disabled and im still learinng. You are always learning how to do this. Every day is a new day for failures and learning in this task. And its grian who doesnt want to get out of bed, who's never felt his body be in such constant misery, not even after third life or last life. He went out - bad. I don't have the brain power to elaborate rn maybe I'll reblog this tomorrow but tldr: I headcanon that the deaths in the life series and way different to deaths on hermitcraft. They're permanently debilitating in some way, but the players keep coming back because they learn to cope, they hold tight to the love for each other that radiates through every time they go through it - anyway. This warden death hurts - and Scar is feeling it too, but not as bad, not as Severely, and furthermore he has coping skills in place already for chronic pains and aches and fatigue. Grian doesn't.

It's Scar showing up and adjusting Grian's pillows to help him sit up, nursing him to health with some food and water, an ice pack, a heating pad, some potions from Cub to help with the pains, to help manage. Its Scar teaching Grian to use a cane, to trust his weight to this inanimate object, to learn to use it as an extension of himself. Helping him learn the walking pattern. It's Scar opening up the bedroom window or whatever the fuck the equivalent is in Grian's base to help get some white noise and teaching Grian to focus on it to make the worst of the ringing go away, to massage the muscles in his head to help with the headaches and migraines.

Scar teaching Grian how to pull his weight up with other people, how to get up from the floor with his back hurts so much he can barely move, to shuffle around the room a little bit just to get the blood flowing in his legs.

And then its like. It's Grian leaning his head against Scar's chest and crying from frustration because his body wont cooperate and he's never had to deal with it before and he doesn't know how. And grian apologizing because he's just complaining about things scar lives with always. And Scar soothing Grian's worries and anxieties becaue he knows why grian's frustrated and its not guaranteed to help but by god he'll try, he'll try so hard to give grian the world back if he can.

god I wish i could elaborate more but. I am sleepy.

#Asks #comfortingdecay #mutuals #desert duo #grian #goodtimeswithscar #double life #so I'm normal #Stitch's Writing

[happi-tree]

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this)

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I don’t know what came over me, you’re just so hurt and I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do and -”

Link cuts himself off as he glances up from Taylor’s still-glazed expression to his forehead. Before his eyes, the gash stitches itself closed, the open wound fading to a pink scar that pales to white before disappearing entirely.

Lincoln remembers hearing the words “kiss it better” throughout his entire childhood. He remembers the way his dads would patch up his scraped knees with ointment and a bandage and top it all off with a tiny kiss before treating him to a hard candy from their first aid kit for being such a good boy.

Never once had Link thought that the phrase could be literal. Or that his newfound powers could make it literal.

Or: Link discovers a rather unorthodox way of using Lay On Hands thanks to one Taylor Swift, and for some reason, he can’t seem to stop finding excuses to perfect his new skills. Fortunately, Taylor is more than happy to help.

read on ao3

once / twice / thrice, pt. 1 / thrice, pt. 2

once (‘cause i know you had a long night)

The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

They’ve just gotten out of combat at the Eleven-Seven on the edge of town thanks to yet another harebrained plan - this one in particular involving about 27 Large Swig™s’ worth of slushies, an ungodly misuse of pretzel warmers, and mentally begging the forgiveness of customer service employees everywhere. 

Lincoln Li-Wilson stands over a puddle of goop, cleated foot planted firmly where the chest of the latest of the Doodler’s acolytes used to be. He smudges some flecks of dark, slimy sludge off his face with his shoulder. 

God, that’s gonna be a pain to wash out. At least he didn’t wear his favorite jersey tonight.

Link can feel the final dredges of adrenaline coursing through his veins and knows that it’s only a matter of time before he crashes. He can’t let that happen yet, though, not after this tough of a fight. He brushes himself off and looks around the abandoned parking lot, trying to make out the forms of his friends by the hazy yellow-white light of a distant streetlamp.

Scary stands a short distance away, brandishing her knife and stabbing into the remains with extreme prejudice, targeting anything that still moves. Other than the bloodlust in her eyes and a broken nail, she doesn’t look too bad.

Normal looks a bit worse for wear, swaying a little on his feet. Even so, the air around his palms coalesces into a foggy white energy as he makes his way towards an injured Hermie (who had decided to tag along, for some reason that Link doesn’t particularly care about).

That leaves Taylor. Link knows he’d been injured pretty badly - a blow to the head, if he remembers correctly - and his anxiety only increases the longer it takes to find his silhouette in the blackness of sun-off.

Then, a pained wheeze sounds off from somewhere to his right, and Lincoln jogs over to the source of the sound, and -

Oh, fuck, he’s barely moving.

Taylor is lying flat on his back, his cane knocked a few feet away. His clothes seem to have protected most of his body from road burn, but his left cheek is pockmarked and raw from where it likely scraped against the asphalt.

Most worrying of all, though, is the gash on his forehead, just above his left eyebrow.

Link remembers Grant telling him that head wounds bleed more than others, once, but that doesn’t help the turning of his stomach when he sees the pavement slick and puddling around Taylor’s head, his face coated in red from temple to jawline. 

Taylor isn’t even trying to get up, and from the cloudiness of his faintly glowing eyes, Link wonders how much of the pain he’s really registering.

Link waves a frantic hand in front of Taylor’s face. 

“Hey,” Link says, voice pitching high as he searches his friend’s face for some sort of recognition. There is none.

“Taylor, hey, c’mon,” Link prods, shaking Taylor’s shoulders gently with trembling hands. Wetness pools at the corners of his eyes, and he blinks it away to keep his vision clear. “I’m gonna heal you, but you gotta stay awake, okay?”

Finally, Taylor’s eyes seem to focus, pupils dilating unevenly but staring at him nonetheless.

“Well, mus’ not be dead yet,” Taylor slurs, raspy and dazed and sounding almost awestruck.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean!? Link thinks.

“What?” 

Taylor cracks a delirious grin, blood pooling into the corner of his mouth. “‘f I die, ‘m going t’ hell… n’ there aren’t any angels like you down there,” he explains through half a facefull of blood.

At any other time, that kind of line would fluster Link out of his mind, but as it is, all he can feel is frustration and fondness and desperation and worry and that goddamn adrenaline.

“You’re so fucking stupid, Tay,” Link says.

Link doesn’t really register what he does next, but quite suddenly his mouth tastes like copper and his hands are cradling the back of Taylor’s head. 

He inhales the scent of iron and pulls away from - from where he kissed Taylor, directly over the horrid gash on his temple. 

The boy beneath him hisses in pain, and Lincoln nearly drops his head to the asphalt again.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I don’t know what came over me, you’re just so hurt and I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do and -”

Link cuts himself off as he glances up from Taylor’s still-glazed expression to his forehead. Before his eyes, the gash stitches itself closed, the open wound fading to a pink scar that pales to white before disappearing entirely.

Lincoln remembers hearing the words “kiss it better” throughout his entire childhood. He remembers the way his dads would patch up his scraped knees with ointment and a bandage and top it all off with a tiny kiss before treating him to a hard candy from their first aid kit for being such a good boy.

Never once had Link thought that the phrase could be literal. Or that his newfound powers could make it literal.

“Uh, Link?” Taylor prods, tapping him in the chest, voice completely devoid of the slurred syllables from seconds ago. “Earth to Lincoln? You okay there, buddy?”

“Yeah?” Link says, entirely unconvincingly. “Are. Are you okay?”

“Mhm!” Taylor chirps, and god, is Link glad that he sounds much more like his regular self. He barely restrains himself from pressing another kiss to his friend’s forehead out of sheer relief.

Looking down at the boy below him doesn’t help to suppress that urge much. Taylor’s pupils appear to be evenly sized, now, but they’re large and blown out, the black almost completely eclipsing the dark reddish brown of his irises. The whites of his eyes are still glowing that faint goldeny color, a few shades richer than the far-off streetlights. And while some of Taylor’s face has traces of blood, Link’s unconventional Lay On Hands has wiped most of the gore away, revealing skin painted red for a completely different reason. Now that he thinks about it, Taylor’s entire body feels even warmer than usual, and Link wonders what on Earth that could possibly mean. 

“Uh,” Taylor says, “you can let go of me now.”

Link practically jumps back as if electrocuted, clambering away from the boy and back to his feet.

“Ow,” Taylor hisses, rubbing the back of his head from where it had hit the asphalt.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Link says, waving his hands before extending an arm out to Taylor.

Taylor accepts the help, and Link can’t help but register the way that his smaller, warmer hand fits against his palm as he hoists his friend up.

“No worries,” Taylor responds. “Thanks - I think my sword-cane fell somewhere over -”

“I got you,” Link says, scooping up the item and pressing it into Taylor’s free hand.

“My hero,” Taylor sighs fake-dreamily, and the adrenaline kicks up the pace of Link’s heart again, blood scorching through his veins and rushing to his face.

Okay, maybe it’s something other than adrenaline, but that’s for Lincoln to unpack later.

“Come on,” he says after he gives Taylor a final once-over (and tries not to let his eyes linger too long on the place where he kissed him). “Let’s go help the others.”

#without further ado: gay ppl part 1 of (hopefully only) 4 :DDD #the plan is to link the following parts all together after the summary blurb instead of doing a reblog chain i think. we'll see #this concept has been plaguing me for months thank you oakvale server for bearing witness to my madness w these guys #part 2 coming. within the next week hopefully! #dndads #swiftli #fic #happi scribbles #oh. uh. title and chapter titles from paper rings by taylor swift btw!!!

[heyiwrotesomethings]

First time requesting- because it always freaking closes when I even try lol.

Anyway I don't know if you had a prompt/request yet witha girl with the hanahaki Disease, and yes I've read your recent post. I'd also like it too have a good ending sooo.

I was going to ask you, when you can create either an Asa Mitaka (yoru?) x Female Reader. where Asa has the Disease right but listen she's jealous before she want's too confess to the reader but sees that reader has been hanging around with yoshida lately and you know that how she develops the Disease.. and get's really sick, so that Yoru has too take over too get asa to confess to the reader who's currently hanging with Yoshida..

The reason being is that the reader is Yoshida's co-worker also as a private devil hunter..So Yoru understanding the new information then tells the reader that (Asa) likes her and then disappears (go back?), so that Asa can properly confess.

That's it I really want it to be an happy ending. But if you're not comfortable with the character who can change it :)))

Petals

Asa Mitaka (and Yoru too kinda) x She/Her Reader

A/N: Writing for these two was so fun. Probably too fun because Yn doesn’t get very much time to shine, whoops. I’m not sure if the scars and eye pattern that show up when Yoru is in charge is just for the reader’s tracking benefit or if it’s a physical thing that all the other characters can also notice, but I decided it was the former because if the other characters can see the change, it would be weird for no one to bring it up. Thanks for the request, hope you like it! Word Count: 1,736

“Pathetic, I couldn’t have possessed someone more pitiful.”

“Shut up.”

“How long do you think we can survive like this? Why are you so stubborn?”

“I told you to shut up. I don’t know.”

Asa spat another petal into the toilet, wiping the blood from her lips with the back of her quivering hand. She flushed the toilet and shuffled out of the stall to the nearest sink, washing the blood from her hands and lips.

Feeling a little faint, she gripped the edges of the sink and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. After taking a few breaths, she opened her eyes, finding her sickly pale reflection staring back at her. Asa blinked sluggishly. In that brief time, her unblemished reflection had morphed into a scarred, visibly annoyed version of herself.

“Go to her. Tell her now, or I will.” Yoru warned.

“You will do no such thing!” Asa spat, her fingers curled tightly over the rim of the sink.

“You know how this disease works. Will you really allow yourself to die without even trying? Is your sense of self-preservation really so weak?” Yoru snarled.

“It doesn’t matter.” Asa swallowed thickly, “She’s already with that private devil hunter guy. They hangout all the time now,” her grip on the sink caused it to crack beneath her finger tips but she paid it no mind, too busy recalling where it all went wrong.

“I was going to tell her… I was, but then that whole thing with Bucky happened and then the Class President and you invading my body. And then there was what happened with Yuko too. All while my life was becoming fucked, Yoshida Hirofumi used that time to steal my chance with (Y/n) away.”

“Spare me,” Yoru rolled her spiraled irises, “Humans are fickle. Even if she is with him, that doesn’t really mean anything. And if she doesn’t want to leave him, who cares. We just kill this Yoshida guy and she will be single again. She could be yours by the end of the day.”

“Why do you even care anyway?” Asa grumbled. She was in no mood to try to explain to a devil why everything she had just said was not only stupid, but also laughably insane.

“Because this is my body now too. I rather not go back to hell in such a depressingly dull manner. Besides, if she grew to love you, she’d make a very powerful weapon.”

“Yoru!” Asa hissed through gritted teeth.

“Not saying it has to be her,” Yoru groaned, crossing her arms, “but if you ever found yourself getting bored of her…”

“I’m done talking to you. I have to get back to class. I’ve been gone long enough as is.”

Asa pushed away from the sink on wobbly legs and exited the bathroom just as the clock tower chimed, signaling the end of classes. Damn it, had she really been in the bathroom all hour? She slunk against the wall as she walked through the sea of bodies making their way to their extracurricular activities and cleaning duties. Though she was sure it was pretty evident to her teacher that she appeared ill, she still didn’t want to run into him and suffer through an interrogation about her deteriorating health.

Asa was tired. Her throat burned and her chest was unbearably sore so she was going to head straight home to mope in her bed. Yoru would no doubt be pissed that she was going another day without looking for a suitable weapon, but she quite frankly didn’t care at the moment.

She froze at the top of the stairs before descending, having heard a familiar laugh that caused something to tighten around her lungs. She saw (Y/n) coming up from the opposite direction, Yoshida smiling by her side. Of course.

Asa clenched her jaw, ready to stare daggers into the boy, but then she had been spotted.

“Hey Asa, always good to see you,” (Y/n) called with a friendly smile as she continued to ascend the stairs, “How have you been?”

“F-fine.” Asa could hear Yoru scoff. “How are you?”

“Pretty good. It’s a shame we aren’t in the same class this year. I‘ve missed you.”

Asa’s vocal chords might as well have been ripped out of her throat, but before the silence could last too long, Yoru yanked her into the metaphorical backseat.

“I’ve missed you too,” Yoru spoke with as much fondness as she could muster, “we should do something together soon. Maybe this weekend?”

“Yoru— don’t embarrass me I swear to god—!”

“I’d love to. I really would, but I’m busy this weekend.” Asa took at least a little comfort in seeing that (Y/n) looked genuinely disappointed. “Can I take a rain check?”

“Of course,” Yoru nodded, “It doesn’t have to be on the weekend either. Any day of the week, I’ll be there.”

“Yoruuuu,” Asa blushed, “You are being weird!”

Fortunately (Y/n) seemed to take the words in stride and her smile brightened, she opened her mouth to say something else, but then Yoshida put a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t want to rush you, but we should keep moving if we’re going to make it to the meeting on time.” He said, the kind way he looked down at (Y/n) was enough to make both Asa and Yoru want to bare their teeth.

“Oh, right! Talk to you later Asa!”

“Later…” Yoru smiled tightly as the pair passed them by and continued on to the next set of stairs to take them to the next floor above.

“We need a plan.” Yoru said as she picked up Asa’s previous task of walking down the stairs. “I can already feel those damn flowers crawling up again.”

“I hate this. I hate him.” Asa fumed.

“I want to cut his hands off.” Yoru agreed.

“I’m not cutting off anyone’s hands.” Asa groaned.

“If you don’t confess soon, there will be hand cutting and so much more whether you like it or not.”

***

Another week of suffering had gone by, leaving Asa and Yoru feeling so much weaker. They didn’t even go to school on Monday, or the next couple days to follow. Asa seemed pretty content to wallow in her apartment, leaving bloody flower petals in her wake, but Yoru had had enough. On Friday morning, after it became apparent that Asa wasn’t going to leave her bed, Yoru commandeered the body and got ready to go to school despite all of Asa’s protests.

They arrived bright and early, Asa pleading with Yoru to just let it go before she made a fool out of them both and then inevitably died with a mouthful of flowers. Yoru paid her no mind, instead scanning the campus.

She caught sight of (Y/n) near the bike racks, scowling when she saw that Yoshida was still glued to her side. She could feel Asa’s negative emotions bubbling as well, quite possibly responsible for her own growing discontent.

“Yoru, turn around right now!” Asa demanded.

“Unless you have the strength to take back control, which I know you don’t, I will do as I please. Be grateful I’m going through the trouble of helping you with your insipid little teenage romance at all instead of simply killing you and taking your body as my own. It would make my life so much easier.”

It really made Asa wonder why Yoru hadn’t done just that and killed her when the disease began, or even before that since she hadn’t made any progress on finding out who Chainsaw Man was or making a powerful weapon to kill him. She didn’t dare ask, but it was something to think on.

Yoru walked over to where (Y/n) and Yoshida stood, nearly inserting herself between them before finally coming to a stop.

“Asa! Hi!” (Y/n) perked up, not at all put out by the interruption. “I heard you’ve been out sick most of the week, are you feeling any better?” She reached out to rest her had against their forehead, the gentle touch causing their collective heart to skip a beat.

“Mostly.” Yoru answered almost impatiently. “Hey (Y/n), I want to talk to you alone. Please.”

“Sure!” (Y/n) looked back to Yoshida, “See you in class, Calamari.”

Yoshida chuckled, a sound that grated against Asa and Yoru’s ears.

“Yeah, see you in a bit.” He confirmed with a smile before walking towards the school doors.

“So what did you want to—?”

“Come with me.”

Yoru took (Y/n)’s hand pulling her to the trees, further away from the students slowly taking over the campus.

“Why are you with that guy so much lately?” Yoru asked without preamble.

“You mean Hirofumi?”

“Yeah, are you dating him or something?” You won’t be for long if that’s the case.

“No,” (Y/n) laughed abruptly, “no, no, no. We’re coworkers. We both work in the private sector for devil hunting. We get along pretty well, but that’s the extent of it. Why? Do… do you like him?”

Was that unease Yoru sensed from (Y/n)’s tone, perhaps even a hint of jealousy?

Asa blinked, finding herself back in control.

“I’ll leave the rest to you. Don’t mess it up.” Yoru hissed against her ear.

“I- No, I don’t like him. I only asked because I,” she swallowed thickly, pressing her palms together, “I like you.”

“Really?”

The way (Y/n) seemed to brighten up at the confession gave Asa a boost of confidence.

“Yes, really. Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

“Yes, I would! I really, really would!” (Y/n) grinned, enveloping Asa in a tight hug.

“Really?”

“Really!”

“There are too many reallys flying around. You idiots deserve each other.” Yoru scoffed.

Yoru would never admit it, but she was feeling quite pleased about this development and not just because it would rid them of choking on scratchy flower stems in the middle of the night anymore. Yoru hummed thoughtfully,

“This whole ‘private devil hunter’ thing might pose a problem if she finds out about me… A problem for another day, I suppose. After she becomes too infatuated to care, perhaps. Again, if it doesn’t work out, very promising weapon potential.”

Asa gave Yoru a warning glare over (Y/n)’s shoulder before pressing her face flat against her, feeling the best she had in several weeks as the constricted feeling in her chest slowly began to ease.

#chainsaw man oneshots #csm oneshots #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #asa mitaka x reader #csm asa x reader #asa x reader #csm yoru x reader #yoru x reader #requests #t-wylia

[xerith-42]

pls talk more about doll shadowknight headcanons i love hearing about them

Hey council, I uhh, I may have cooked something up @gonedreaminggg @cinnamontoastcroonch @laurencezvahlslefteyebrow I'm gonna mash my two favorite headcanons together watch this--

Shadow Knight Musician Struggle Time!!

Laurance trying to play the lyre after the doll effects start kicking in and his hand just goes limp mid song. He can't do anything about it and just feels so ill about the whole situation. Garroth tells him that it's okay, that his playing before was great, but it's still kinda a cowabummer.

Vylad practicing his ocarina along and suddenly their lips get stuck around it as Vylad's body just freezes. He's on his own at this point, but it still sucks. He had a real jam going.

Hatsune help me, what if Sasha was a musician before her death? I could totally see Sasha playing the violin when she was younger, giving up on it so she could become a guard or whatever, but when she comes across an abandoned violin, she decides to take it and practice it again. And while she's playing one day, her hand stops moving, as does her arm. Just frozen in place. Her grip on the bow was loose in the first place, and in the silence left by the sudden stop of her music, the bow clatters to the ground.

If she's unlucky, it could even fall from the roof of the fortress she's playing on and land in the lava pools below. Then again if that happened, the instant Sasha got control of her body again she would go beat the fuck out of the Shadow King with her bare hands. It's hard to get musical instruments when you're literally stuck in hell and it's one of the few things that brings her solace.

Just had a wicked and evil thought, we characterized Gene with his porcelain scar, but what if we applied that same idea to someone else? Zenix is like a puppet on his strings, right? What if one day he glanced down at his wrists and found red lines wrapped around them? As if the strings are digging into his skin. And this is after he's already "cut himself free" from the Shadow King's control and is killing Shadow Knights. A chilling reminder that he still isn't in control.

After a bad fight his healing powers come into play, but it leaves a permanent stitch mark where his flesh came back together. Not the way a scar from stitching normally looks, but like a rushed stitch you did on a piece of fabric to get it functional but not pretty. It never goes away, nobody can see it from under his armor, but Zenix knows. He knows it's there.

I know before I said Vylad has compeltely limp states like Laurance, and that's still a thing, but I want to tweak the flavor. I'm imagining Vylad as like a

This fucking thing. That's Vylad. Sometimes only one of his joints stops working instead of the entire limb. Bro will be climbing trees and then their left elbow just goes backwards. Whoops it's not supposed to do that! Vylad is honestly not too bothered by this after the third time it happens, bro just gets used to it.

Everyone else (especially Garroth) is understandably very thrown off by this suddenly happening. Like it's one thing for Laurance's arm to go numb and act like it's out of socket, it's another thing for Vylad's arm to be able to bend backwards with seemingly no physical pain caused to him. He keeps trying to assure everyone that this is just ab symptom of being a shadow knight, and it's only Laurance who really gets it. The phrase "all dolled up" might as well be a universal trigger of Shadow Knights. Cadenza says it in reference to Laurance while she's helping him get ready for Kenmur's wedding, and while she instantly knows she fucked up and Laurance can see that, it still makes him stiff. His hands twitch as if to make sure it didn't start just from her saying the phrase. References to dolls start to fade out of the vocabulary of the alliance and its members over time. Largely because everyone has respect for either Vylad, Laurance, or Vincent and doesn't want to potentially upset them. The whole doll thing is a pretty sensitive subject.

Speaking of Vincent, as we've established, the doll stuff happens regardless of whether they're premature or not. I think that it happens less if you've answered the calling, but it still happens. Vincent gives me the vibes of like a voodoo doll almost. So he definitely gets the randomly limp limbs sometimes, but sometimes he just can't open his mouth, as if it were sewn shut. Oh that's awful oh my Irene this headcanon has caused so much pain.

I have other stuff to say on the Vincent as a voodoo doll thing but... Wow what the fuck that's horrifying. Like the first time that happens is maybe after he's answered the calling but still doesn't fully understand what he is. He's trying to explain it, nearly screaming to try and fight against it, clawing at his face to try and tear it off-- Wowie Minecraft Diaries really lends itself to body horror. I didn't even plan to write that sentence but as I was writing it I remembered the very popular headcanon about Shadow Knights having claws or at least sharper nails that could easily tear skin and yeah wow what the actual fuck.

Uhm, on a better (??) note, I think this means Vincent sometimes just gets random stabbing pains in his body with seemingly no cause. I feel like this might be connected to the Shadow King, but then also could somehow connect to the other divine? Idk about that part I just think the idea of Aph growing her angel wings causing Vincent to feel some form of pain in his back as a response would be weird and net. Vincent is weird and neat, sorry for low key mutilating him.

Have fun incorporating those scars into your next redesign!

#The doll headcanon strikes again #I can't get over that I wrote that #I'm so serious when I say I need a design of vincent with those scars #it's eating me alive #text post #minecraft diaries #laurance zvahl #minecraft diaries laurance #aphblr #mcd headcanons #aphverse #doll headcanon #vylad ro'meave #mcd vylad #mcd laurance #mcd #mcd sasha #mcd zenix #mcd gene #mcd vincent #why is that not a tag #I will make an entire vincent appreciation post right now if I have to #i'll fuckin do it right now #queued post #answering asks #angst