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stairain · 2 months

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Conditioned response

You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, Mean reader, conditioning, forced orgasm, cumming in pants, dry orgasm, crying, begging, manipulation, ropes.

WC: 1.2K

Training Spencer to cum on command was a labor of love. Having spent hours studying Pavlov and Skinner just to be able to make a mess of your poor boyfriend on whim.

Spencer was almost unrecognizable, his face a deep shade of red and pink, slathered in a dripping layer of sweat, and a puddle of his own spend at his feet.

Throwing his head back and swallowing breathlessly, he looks to you and pleads.

“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please?”

His rug burned wrists desperately trembling in their binds as he tries so hard to be good for you. It’s wearing him down, you’ve made him cum at least three times now simply by the snap of your fingers.

It wasn’t this easy at first, and it didn’t even register what you were doing when you finally gave him permission to cum and just so happened to snap at the same time.

No, it took a while. After the next few times, it confused him, he ignored it, but then it became an expectation to him.

Whenever your hand was tightly wound against the sensitive tip of his dripping cock, he’d look to you with those desperate pleading eyes before mustering up the courage to beg for release.

After he’d ask, he wouldn’t wait for your call, no, instead he’d look down at wherever your free hand was.

As a man of extensive knowledge, especially to things pertaining something as simple as conditioning, Spencer knew these things worked.

He just hadn’t even expected himself to be the lab rat in your little experiment.

But now, you’d find him adjusting just fine. At least to your standards.

As soon as he arrived home, you had dragged him to the garage. He’d made no attempt to stop you, even as you sat him down on a cold metal chair.

He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when you began to tie him to aforementioned chair.

Spencer knew better than to question you, and he knew better than to speak without being spoken to. So when he dared open his mouth to talk, you’d quickly snapped your fingers, the sound reverberating through the empty, cold garage.

Whatever word he tried to say had been quickly replaced with a weak whimper. You let out a small huff of amusement, you’d expected this.

The dull brown cotton of his slacks were out to get him, he was convinced. You’d had enough of an ego boost knowing he just came untouched, but as the light fabric began to darken as it soaked with semen, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Look at you, making a mess so easily.”

You almost scoff, your words taunting and mean. This was your own doing, how could you possibly blame him for this? But you did anyways, and he hung his head in shame as he tried to ignore the sticky spend seeping into his briefs.

“I-I’m sorry, couldn’t help it.”

It’s recommended to ask for permission before you beg for forgiveness, but you made sure he’d never be able to attempt the former.

“Tell me what you know about counterconditioning, Spence.”

You say as you crouch down in front of him, granting the littlest bit of kindness as you start to undress him and rid him of his soiled clothes.

The brunet stumbles over his words at first, but answers nonetheless.

“I-It’s a way to reverse the effects of classical conditioning, associating a set conditioned response—“

You snap. He cums.

Spencer almost doubles over in shock as he shoots another load of sticky seed into his pants.

“With another un—fuck—unconditioned stimulus.”

You nod as you pull his cum drenched briefs and pants down his legs, and look up to him with eyes that render him absolutely useless.

“And how would I do that, to stop this?”

You emphasize your question with the swipe of your fingers across his slick covered tip. His thighs twitch around your head and he licks his lips, trying to take back what little composure he’s ever had.

“Y-You could do that–“ His eyes flicker down to where you’re touching his cock “A-And stop snapping. E-Eventually there won’t be an association between the stimuli.”

Spencer speaks with an urgency that’s only found in those who know they’re done for.

“But you don’t want that, do you?”

Your voice drips in a malicious seduction, tilting your head to the side as if to feign an innocence only he should have.

It doesn’t take more than a second for him to shake his head. Even with his cock aching and his thighs sticky, his need to obey you was stronger than the pain of his self.

So when you smile up at him, looking genuinely proud, it makes the ache worth it. He smiles back, albeit crooked and broken.

The moment doesn’t last long, of course it doesn’t. As soon as he saw you raise your hand and press your fingers together, his eyebrows wrung together and his thighs quickly shut.

It was fascinating, it was as if his body just couldn’t stop itself. Even as only a few spurts shot out of his throbbing cock. Thick white drops of cum dripped down the veiny shaft, falling all the day down his balls and onto the chair beneath him.

Spencer throws his head back and lets out a strained moan, one that was full of pain and little pleasure.

It hurt so badly, and he could barely keep up. You were simply torturing him because you could.

“I-I can’t, please.”

He begs, shaking his head when you stand up from your knelt position and look down on him like he was a filthy animal.

“I’ve only touched you once, and here you are cumming without my permission three times. How selfish.”

You degrade him, reducing him to the villain in the scenario. Tears begin to stream down his face and he can feel his heart twisting in his chest.

You’re right, he’s failed you more times than acceptable. He should feel ashamed.

“I-I know, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Spencer practically sobs, his entire body trembles as it aches with the aftershocks of three forced orgasms.

A small huff expels from your nose and you shake your head. It was unfair, really, how easily manipulated he was.

It was your fault after all, but what was it worth if not the satisfaction of reducing this know-it-all of a man down to desperate pleads and animal-esque behavior?

You’ve got your hand held up behind your back, he knows it. He knows you too well to ever even entertain the idea you’d ever listen to him, but he’s hopeless enough to try anyways.

A sob wrecks through his throat and he feels as though he can barely breathe.

“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please? I-I can’t do this anymore.”

It’s cruel, the way you laugh in his face as he drowns in his tears. How foolish of him to even ask.

Maybe you were being a touch too cruel, but it was all worth it the moment you saw genuine fear fill his eyes and the slight shake of his head as he begged you one last time to end it.

But he knew better, and he couldn’t help himself as the hand behind your back echoed a snap right through his ears and out his length.

You see the way his mouth drops open in a shrill cry, and relish in the sight of nothing coming out of his poor cock in a torturous dry orgasm.

His body’s given you everything it possibly can, and yet, you just can’t help yourself.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer #sub spencer reid x reader #sub spencer #sub spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid x reader smut

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exchangestudentnova · 10 months

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Live Audience

Features: Yandere! Pro player x twitch streamer Nagi Seishiro and Willing!Sub!AFAB Reader

Content: NSFW, exhibitionist tendancies (on Nagi's part), dirty talk, edging, slight praise kink, slight teasing, needy reader, possessive Nagi, Soft ending

Term of endearment used for the reader: Babe

"So I add this layer then I'll add a layer of melted chocolate...." you speak to yourself as you create a small cake for Nagi.

User874: Congrats Nagi on one million subscribers!

Nagifangirlll54: Proud to be a fan since Day 1!

Footballlove116: He's an excellent football player and a gamer! Is there anything he can't do?

Twitchuserkai: Woah! One million subs! That's crazy given he just started!

"Hey guysss....welcome to my streammh! As a one million subscriber special I'll..*uh!* now start wa-watching your submitted edits! I'll be choosing five winners to *ah* get passes to meet me after my next *mh* match" As soon as he clicked on play, paused his video and muted himself, a loud moan eruped from his throat, releasing his semen in your mouth. You, sitting under his desk, felt the warm liquid threatening to spill out of your mouth but you don't dare spit it out.

"Show" you opened your mouth, tongue out, a little bit of his cum dropping down. "Swallow" you gulp. He pats your head and wipes his cum off your lips "Good girl, now come sit on my lap"

With your back pressed against his chest, your eyes land upon the ongoing video on the screen. It showed all of Nagi's win under Manshine city, a cool edit of him and his celebratory poses. Your attention shifts on him when he starts kissing your neck, his hand hovering on your thighs, wandering near your damped panty

"Come on babe, tell me what you want, I'll give it to you. Only when you say it clearly" You hear his voice travel all the way from your ear to deep inside a pit in your stomach where his voice tightens a knot, begging for release. Oh you really, really want him to make you come

"Fingers..." "Sorry what did you say?" "Fingers! I want your fingers inside me...." you trail off, as your blush deepens on your own words. "That was good babe, I'll grant your wish now" He removes your underwear, leaving you in just his shirt you were wearing. You start moaning as his long fingers work magic on your walls, eyes heavy, hands gripping the armrest

"Look, look at the screen babe. Look at all these people on my stream, all my fans" He grabs your jaw with his other hand and faces you towards a screen with a huge one million written on it, the number increasing as more people subscribe to his stream.

"How will people react if I turn on my camera babe? Everyone will see how pretty you look when you're getting fucked by my fingers. Or what if I unmute my mic? Then people will find out how cute your moans are when the only thing being registered in your brain is how good I'm making you feel" You listen to only half of what he said, your mind going almost blank with your orgasm fast approaching. The way he fingers you makes your body rock against his, your butt grinding on his hard on.

"AH!" you scream our in frustration as Nagi removes his fingers from inside you when you're just seconds away from an orgasm. "Nagi! Why did you do that?" you whine as your body uncontrollably grinds on his lap, not getting sufficient stimulus to finish. "Because I can't hold back any longer babe"

With your back against the mattress, clothes discarded, Nagi positions himself on top of you, the tip of his cock in contact with your hole. "Are you ready babe?" With a nod of your head, he enters inside you in a swift motion and your eyes roll to the back of your head. His speed is steady, the slight curve of his cock making the tip hit wonderful place inside you.

"You want me to make you come babe? You wanna make a mess around my cock? Tell me who owns you babe, and I'll let you come together with me" Nagi's raspy voice does nothing to subdue your buliding orgasm, your brain slowly becoming a puddle because of the way his cock fills you up. "Nagi nagi nagi nagi nagi nagi Nagi!" you chant his name louder and louder with every thrust he does. "That's it babe just a little more..in 3..2..1 cum for me babe" The two of you reach your peaks together, hands intertwined, heavy breathing filling the air as the two of you come down, Nagi's body laying down on your side, cuddling you

"Are you okay babe? How are you feeling?" Nagj asked as he runs his fingers through your hair. "I'm fine Nagi, would you be interested in eating the cake I made? It's chocolate" you ask him with a smile on your face, remembering how you wanted to give him the cake before he asked you to..well you know what happened. He hums in response. "Fine I'll bring you a piece and a glass of water" "Bring yours too, we'll eat it together while watching the str.....shit! I totally forgot about it!" Nagi got out of the bed in shock and rushed to his computer. The house is now filled with your laughter and his voice as he randomly chooses the winners.

P.S: Woah this is my first time writing smut! Idk if I did a good job, but it's definitely better than what I had in my mind. If anyone has any tips on how to write smut better, please lemme know and I'll improve!

#blue lock #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #bllk #nagi seishiro #nagi smut #nagi bllk #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #yandere smut #yandere bllk x reader #yandere nagi seishiro #yandere blue lock x reader #yandere blue lock #romantic yandere #afab reader #fem reader #female reader

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breezybangtanbebe · 4 months

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Fluidity: Jungkook x Taehyung💋

A/N: ReaderxJungkookxTaehyung , threesome🥴🌚❤️‍🔥

4.1k words

Excitement and anxiety flooded you as you walked down the silent hallway of the employee's quarters.

This area of the ship was restricted. All non-personnel were forbidden from even stepping foot on this floor. But luckily for you, you had access to all floors. And even luckier, tonight you had a key.

The boat rocked, leaning the deep green-carpeted hallway as the waves of the ocean rocked her. You wobbled in the direction of the tilt just as you reached the door at the very end.

Room 901.

The place you'd become very fond and familiar with over the past several weeks. Your eyes lingered on the rusted gold numbers on the middle of the door, your excitement and anxieties teeming. Melting down and flowing into the pit of your stomach.

This is crazy.

Someone could see you.

You could get caught.

Everyone involved would most likely have hell to pay.

But that's what made this so enticing. The fear of being discovered, although you had no intention of getting caught. The sin in itself was what made you fall in love with it all.

After glancing over your shoulder one more time, you pulled a thin white key card from your cleavage and quickly insert it into the slot beneath the door handle.

A tiny green light beams and the soft click sound alerts you of your access being granted. So with your trembling hand on the handle and one long leveling breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The quaint suite was dim, the flickering pattern of the ocean casting blue and silver streaks over the color-less walls. A soft glow of a candlelit lantern swayed with the current beside the full-sized bed, draped in dark blue satin sheets and duvet to match the Pacific beyond the window.

You bent down to unfasten the clasp on your heels, glancing around in search of a certain presence and pouting at the lack thereof. As you stepped out of your shoes you flinched at a sound behind you.

"Jungkook?" Your voice shook with caution as you turned in the direction of the sound just as the culprit is stepping up behind you from the shadows.

You gasp when the familiar pair of strong arms snake around your waist and Jungkook's scent fills your senses, melting you back against his embrace as he nosed at your neck.

"Hi.." his husky greeting sent chills down your spine, his soft lips skimming over your skin.

"Hi," you respond, inhaling sharply when you feel Jungkook catching your earlobe in a gentle nibble. His hands roved over your dress, one resting at your hip while the other reached around to palm at your center, cupping you through the thin fabric of your dress. The hem of it is pulled up and Jungkooks hand slowly slid underneath to explore you, spreading your puffy lips with his fingers.

Your head falls back to rest on his shoulder as his fingers massaged at your sensitive folds, humming into your ear with approval at your lack of underwear.

"Do you just not wear panties for the hell of it?.." he whispers between kissing at your jawline. The pad of his fingers press deeper into your front and move in a slow circle that makes you shake.

"...Or do you just like teasing me?" he latches down on your throat and sucks hard, contrasting his soft but effective touches on your sex. You winced at the combo of stimulus, already feeling yourself dripping down your inner thigh the longer Jungkook touched you.

"Maybe..both.." you stammered out in between breathy moans in reaction to his skilled fingers. Your clit was swelling and aching from the way his long middle and index finger stroked and trapped it between them as he rubbed you.

Jungkook chuckled at your words.

"Wrong answer."

You had little time to respond to the wickedness in his tone when you felt him pulling away and turning you around to face him. His lips were on yours immediately, kissing you roughly and deeply while forcing you to walk back towards the bed.

Your back hits the mattress and Jungkook rushed in to continue kissing you. He reaches for your neck and pulls you up so he can undress you, pulling the zipper down the curve of your spine with ease. The garment was nearly yanked from your body, leaving you completely nude and at his complete mercy as he abandoned your lips to kneel between your legs.

Jungkook licked you soft and slow at first, sampling your sweet flavor before rolling his tongue in a figure-8 over the hood of your clit, curling underneath it, and sweeping around your slit. A teasing action that sent tingles of need all over you, making you squirm beneath him. His tongue felt like heaven but it was hell to feel him coming so close to the most sensitive parts of you without actually giving them attention.

"Kook..baby..." you whined when the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit again, compelling you to roll your hips in hopes of catching him slipping. Hopes that the right move would have his tongue swiping over the center of your clit. But Jungkook knew exactly what you were doing.

When his mouth closed over your entire mound your chest caved. Not a sound left you, your vocal cords paralyzed in response to the skilled tongue swirling and flicking over your pussy. All you could hear were the wet sounds of Jungkook sucking at you and his tiny growls of appreciation when you opened your legs wider for him.

He placed his palms on the thickest part of your thighs, pushing them down and locking you in place as he pushed himself up to put his full weight on your trembling legs as he sucked on you harder. Your hips bucked and your pelvis lifted to follow his mouth, your clit still trapped between his lips.

He suddenly releases your bud with a loud wet 'pop' and your bottom half drops flimsily back onto the bed.

"Fuck" You yelped at the sting of it, your head falling back and your eyes shut tight. You were so close to coming just then that your entire body quivered, your walls clenching and your clit throbbing for more.

Jungkook chuckled before diving back in, eating you like this for what like forever. Sucking and licking you senseless, pushing and pulling you closer and closer to orgasm, and just abandoning you at the edge to never let you finish.

By the third time, you had tears in your eyes, nearly sobbing for release and mercy. But you knew Jungkook. You knew this was his favorite game and you knew that when he finally did let you cum, it would be mind-blowing.

After Jungkook figured you'd had enough of his torture, he stood.

"Look at me.." he commanded. You were already near delirium from being edged and teased for so long that you could barely see when you lifted your head. Tears blurred your vision for a moment but after blinking a few times you were able to see Jungkook unbuttoning his silk work shirt. His smooth skin, chiseled abs and muscled chest steal the show once his shirt is completely open.

Fuck, he's so perfect. Your bottom lip tucked itself between your teeth as he began to undo his slacks, popping the button and tugging the zipper down slowly.

The bulge in his underwear was extremely prominent, the thick print of his half-hard dick curving to the side beneath the dark grey fabric. He wrapped his tattooed hand over it, tugging gently at the shaft and hissing softly in reaction.

"Hey...Up here." Jungkook smirked at your thirsty expression and you reluctantly tore your eyes away from his crotch to look him in the face. Which wasn't any less beautiful than the rest of him.

Jungkook was an enigma, his duality always catching you off guard no matter how much time you spent together. His features were perfectly placed and sculpted on his round face. When he smiled, his eyes sparkled and his dimpled cheeks became round and cherubic. You always had to resist the urge to pinch them when you had the opportunity.

But that wasn't the Jungkook in front of you right now. That Jungkook was long gone, taking the night off and leaving his darker counterpart in charge for the remainder of the evening.

"Are you ready?" His dark eyes glinted and his brow arched. He blinked slowly as he pushed down his pants and underwear in one movement, letting them pool at his ankles. Your gaze traveled back down his perfectly sculpted body, following his dark happy trail until your eyes were following the sinuous movements of his hand.

Wrapped around his shaft, Jungkook stroked his dick slowly. The thin velvety skin before the tip bunched and wrinkled when he stroked up, forcing the head to swell and excrete his arousal. The ocean's reflection caught on the beads of pre-cum collecting and dripping from the slit. Your mouth watered immediately at the sight, wanting nothing more than to taste him on your tongue. You were so distracted by the thought that you'd completely forgotten to respond to the man's question.

When a hard hand comes down flat against your inner thigh, ending the blow with a squeeze to your flesh, you found your wits immediately.

"Yes! Yes..please..." you nodded fervently and Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head the way only he could do to make your insides contract.

"Please what?" He squeezes your thigh again and you whimper in response.

"Fuck me. Please.." you choked out and Jungkook smiles.

Suddenly your body is jolted forward an inch and your legs are lifted with Jungkooks large hands slotted at the back of your knees as he spread you wider for him. His abs flexed in tandem with his hips and he leaned forward, pushing only the head of his dick past your entrance with no warning.

You groan at that alone, the thickness of his member already stretching you so good. Jungkook pulled back a fraction then pushed himself in a little deeper, his tip grazing the top of your walls as he pulled back again.

They clinched and quivered in an attempt to savor him, wishing he would end his tease and just dive into you completely. But that wasn't his style.

Jungkook lived for this. He loved giving you only enough to push you to that point just so he could make you beg for it. He loved having the power over your pleasure in his hands.

Your body shook with a shallow sob when Jungkook pushed into you again, grazing that swollen spot, stretching you some more, and sliding in a little deeper but not all the way, and pulling out.

You wanted to curse him for feeling this good, even with only a third of him pulsing inside of you. Tears sprang anew in your eyes as Jungkook stroked you painfully slow, letting the orgasm he'd been denying you build itself up again. Your chest heaved and your strained moans filled the air, distracting you completely from the sound of the suite's door opening.

The sound of it shutting snaps your haze and your eyes pop open and squint as you lift your head to investigate.

Just beyond where Jungkook stood, was another man cloaked in the shadows of the night. His dark wavy mane blended in with the darkness of the room, his tall frame stalking forward. The blue luminous glow of the moon shining through the ocean marks the path of his approach, bringing an unhindered view of his beauty as he watched Jungkook fuck you slowly with fire in his eyes.

Taehyung.

Jungkook steals a glance over his shoulder and smirks before returning his focus on where your bodies met, leaving only half of his swollen member inside of you as he paused mid-stroke to get your attention.

"You feel so fucking good..." his voice seemed to have dropped an octave and your heart stuttered at the way Jungkook's tone switched to address you. One of his hands comes up over your leg, grazing over your thigh gently until the tips of his fingers reach your sex.

"Too good not to share......" he groans low in his throat when he pushes himself a fraction deeper at the exact moment his thumb swiped and rubbed over your clit.

Taehyung's jaw clenched at the sounds you made for his best friend, the way you were so responsive to his touch had his dick throbbing beneath his denim shorts.

Jungkook acts as if he doesn't notice the way his dick jumped inside of you at the sound of Taehyung unzipping his shorts, choosing to only focus on the sweet sound of you moaning for him instead.

"So I invited him. Is that ok with you?" Jungkook rolls himself back then forward once more to provoke your answer, smirking at the way you clenched around him.

"Yes." You croaked, your voice hoarse and almost gone already and the desperation in your response has both men grinning wickedly.

Taehyung was already half-naked, his shirt lying abandoned at the bed and his shorts being kicked off before walking over to the side of the bed. Jungkook continued slowly entering you and pulling out teasingly, adding more pressure to your clit with each stroke as he watched Taehyung push down his underwear.

With his dick in hand, already hard and at attention, Taehyung leaned over the bed to loom over you. Kissing you softly and tasting the salty tears on your lips, Taehyung strokes himself a few times, almost matching Jungkooks pace inside of you.

"Hey there gorgeous..." he speaks against your lips. Jungkook watches the way you writhe and moan, unconsciously allowing himself to slide in and hitting the back of your heat. The sudden fullness makes you break Taehyung's kiss and cry out, arching up from the bed, fisting at the sheets.

"Yep. That's it, baby..." Taehyung purred in your ear, using his free hand to massage one of your breasts as the bounced to the rhythm of Jungkook fucking into you at a steady pace.

He pulls back out with a groan and slams back with a bit more force, making you cry out even louder from the pleasure and the pain. This only encourages Jungkook to go harder and so he does. He's quickly losing himself and letting his head fall back and his eyes shut so he could relish in the sounds and sensations of him ruining you.

The mattress bows and creaks under Taehyungs weight as he climbed onto the bed all the way. Throwing his leg over your torso, he straddles your waist and sits upon his knees.

When you felt him settle himself over you, still stroking himself until his dick is staring you right in the face, you instinctively push yourself up on your elbows.

Taehyung places his finger beneath your chin to make you look up.

"You know the routine baby. Tap me when you cant breathe ok?" he says, grunting softly midsentence at his ministrations but his eyes were clear and tone even more so.

You nod but Taehyung isn't accepting that. He catches your cheeks in his hand, squeezing them a bit as he narrowed his eyes.

"Ok?" He repeats and you muffle out an audible response before he unhands your face.

"Good. Now open up beautiful..." he says before pulling face closer to the tip with his firm hand guiding to you. Your lips part the moment you feel his smooth skin touch you and your mouth waters in preparation.

Taehyung lets out a low groan when his dick pushed past your lips and he hissed as you hollowed your cheeks to suck him in.

"Ahhh shit baby..." he calls out as he slowly sank over your tongue and to the back of your throat, making you gag. Your eyes rolled back a bit as the saliva pooled and dripped from the corners of your mouth, coating Taehyung sufficiently for him to fuck your face with ease.

And that's how it went down from that moment on.

Jungkook fucking you hard and deep, filling you up so good and hitting every spot with his thumb still rubbing over your clit.

Taehyung right in front of him, hands holding your face lovingly as he shoved his dick down your throat over and over as you moans and whimpered around him.

Erotic wasn't even befitting.

Everything about what transpired at that moment was beyond erotic.

The visuals.

The sounds.

The sensations.

They were all so overwhelming, overpowering even.

Like a man possessed, Jungkook gave in to the passion of the moment and as Taehyung upped his pace inside of your slacked jaw, he's completely unprepared for what was about to happen next.

A deep hiss cuts through his teeth when the feeling of Jungkook fisting a handful of his raven locks yanks his head back and forces him to look up at the ceiling. Jungkooks met with a little resistance but gains an unexpected satisfaction at how Taehyungs head just rolls to the side so he can watch you swallow him.

Jungkook didn't know what came over him. As many times he and Taehyung had done this, their dynamic never changed. Their focus had always been to please you. To dominate you. To fill you up in any and every way you desired.

But seeing the way Taehyungs body moved over your body, how every muscle in his back flexed as he rolled his hips into your face. The way his arms bulged with the task of holding your head still as he rocked into you.

The way his overgrown hair collected and stuck to his nape from sweat, his tanned skin glistening and almost glowing in the dim candlelit suite. The way the sound of your muffled moans, changing in pitch and volume in reaction to Taehyung fucking your throat senselessly harmonized with his deep voice as it praised and degraded you just the way you loved it.

Something about that combination had Jungkooks dick throbbing, drilling into you harder and faster as he chased his nut. His grip on Taehyungs hair tightened, yanking his head back again. Taehyung groans at the feel, clenching his jaw and panting through his nose as his eyes rolled back. A spark was set alight in his spine, the fuse burning and sizzling closer to detonation, and Jungkook knew he and his best friend were close to spilling into you.

"Fuck...fuck.." he grunted, looking down at the apex of your spread thighs to watch himself disappear and reappear inside of you all while keeping his grip on Taehyungs hair. As his stroke became stagnant, his hand slipped and fell to the back of Tae's neck. He held him there as an anchor, his other hand digging into the meat of your thigh.

Taehyung continued to rock into your mouth, his pace quickening desperately while you whimpered and did your best to hold on.

Despite your jaw being completely numb at this point.

"Gonna cum..gonna...ah shit shit fuck.." Jungkook ground out to the ceiling.

When he came, he saw stars. His vision goes blurry and his body tenses as he filled you with his hot release. His limbs and joints felt loose the moment he'd almost purged himself completely and the hand at Taehyungs neck began to slip. But before it could fall away, Taehyung reached over his shoulder to catch it and hold it there, squeezing it in a way to get Jungkook's attention.

"Almost...Fuck..Don't stop...Gonna cum.." he stammered, his tone not directed at anyone in the room in particular. You took his words as encouragement to keep your mouth as wet and as pliant you could until you couldn't hold on anymore. Jungkook took it as his cue to keep his hand where it was.

Taehyungs chest heaved and his shoulders shrugged when his climax hit and he threw his head back with his mouth agape. Jungkook instinctively leaned forward to snake his hand around the boy's throat to apply pressure, heightening the searing pleasure of his friend's release. His strangled groan vibrates underneath Jungkooks fingers, making his dick twitch and stiffen as it remained deep inside of your swollen sex.

The room went completely still, the only sounds being a trio of labored breathes and ship groaning against the pressure of the ocean waves.

Jungkook was the first to move, pulling out of you slowly and stepping away to retrieve a towel from the bathroom while you and Taehyung collected yourselves.

Your cheeks bulged when Taehyung pulled his softening member from your lips, his seed mixing with your saliva as it drizzled down your chin.

You swallowed every drop, licking your lips and sighing when you felt a soothing hand caressing your cheek. Your eyes flutter open weakly to see Taehyung looking down at you with hooded eyes.

"Hey there beautiful...You did amazing...You're so fucking perfect..." he exhaled with a soft smile. You mirrored his expression weakly, your arms trembling. The strength leaves them and you find yourself falling back into the sheets, breathing heavily and sated.

You most definitely came more than once. You weren't counting. You weren't coherent. But you knew you came back to back. The tingling sensation in your clit, the way your walls pulsed and contracted, and the way your legs twitched told you that you came more than once.

And as the serotonin and oxytocin flooded your bloodstream, so did the fatigue.

You seemed half-dead by the time Jungkook returned to clean you up. You didn't even notice Taehyung dismounting you. All you could register was the feel of the warm rag wiping at your pussy and the sounds of your lovers' voices fading off into the distance as you drifted.

"You good?" Taehyung turns to Jungkook with concern at how quiet he was. You had long since passed out, allowing Jungkook to scoop you up in his strong arms so Taehyung could pull back the blanket and sheets.

"Hmm?" he responded, careful not to stir you too much with his movements. He laid you down gently and fixed your position beneath the plush blanketing before looking up at Taehyung standing at the other side of the large bed.

Jungkook quickly looks away when he notices that Taehyung was still gloriously nude.

"Are you good? You're...quiet." Taehyung straightens his back, glancing down at your covered curves beneath the bedding then back at Jungkook, whose eyes were staring off-center. As if he were in deep thought.

Taehyung frowned.

"Psst." he hissed, gaining Jungkooks attention. Taehyung only lifts a brow and Jungkook blinks back his distracting thoughts.

"Yeah. I'm good...I'm good. Are you?" He asks apprehensively. Taehyung is already pulling his denim shorts up to his legs and zipping his fly as he rounds the corner of the bed where Jungkook was.

He doesn't notice the way Jungkook tensed when he leaned past him to kiss your forehead and swipe a few sweaty strands of hair away from your temple. But he does feel the tension rolling off of the boy's stiff movements beside him as he stepped aside. Taehyung chooses not to acknowledge it any further though.

It was late and he was exhausted after all of that. All he wanted to do was get back to his room and sleep it all off.

Jungkook's furrowed brow uncreased a bit when Taehyung leaned up and turned his head towards him.

"You're good with staying with her tonight then? I'd crash here but.."

"No, it's cool. I've got her. I don't work early so I can sneak her out before the rest of the staff starts their rounds..." Jungkook responds, glancing over at you as you snored softly into his pillows.

Both men gaze at you with a sweet fondness that has both of them smiling softly. A few seconds pass and Jungkook finds himself avoiding eye contact with Taehyung, who only shoots him a glance before turning away and heading for the door.

"Cool. See you out there tomorrow then.." was the last thing Taehyung said before he was strolling out of the suite, shutting the door softly behind him.

Leaving Jungkook standing there, frowning at the empty entryway, his stomach churning slightly and the wheels in mind turning as he tried his hardest to put a word to the way he felt about tonight.

The only words being the following;

Satisfied.

Conflicted.

And Confused.

Very, very confused.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #taehyung #taehyung smile #bts army #bts fanfic

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geotheraider · 7 months

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ATLA Rewatch Critiques

As I'm re-watching the whole series, part in research, part in enjoyment, I've found that I've begun to detest the Aang-Katara romance dynamic more and more. I've been familiar with the series ending (though never truly watched the episodes in S3 start-finish when it came out), and now having read through 'The Promise' it strikes as truly jarring, the 'sweetie calm down'.

Like...I get being there for each other, but like so many others have said, the Lion Turtle essentially gives an unearned level-up (a rare candy from Pokemon Fire Red if you will) vs earned character growth. Not having the character growth essentially locks Katara into the role of making sure the atomic bomb doesn't go off. What a life to lead.

Aang needed the growth of mastering the avatar state, otherwise it feels like book 1 chapter 3 again, POST SERIES where we have the same conflict over and over.

EDIT: So, I've done some more research and digging, and during CoD, it does indeed show that Aang unlocks the 7th chakra. What I don't particularly like about the remainder of the show, is how that has essentially no impact on the romance side of the plot. There is zero change in the crush status, no learning to let go, and worst of all, he (Aang) tends to adopt a stance of just straight up ignoring boundaries.

Ya know, this is all akin to a very controversial topic from DragonBallZ. Broly's ungodly power just being granted - yes its cool - yes its kinda fun to watch - but its so completely and totally unearned. As fans, we can ooh and ahh the first time around, but when you really dig into it, there isn't a reason for it to exist. "He's so fucking cool, but so fucking dumb!" is one of my favorite critiques of it, and it matches the power-up of the un-mastered Avatar State..a relatively uncontrolled berserker reacting to negative stimulus.

#zutara #fanfic #kataang critical #katara x zuko #katara deserved better #katara #pro katara

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little-cereal-draws · 2 years

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ok I've been stressing over hurricane Ian all day and my school is half evacuated but I don't have any way to leave so I'm sheltering in place and toughing it out. to make myself feel better, here is how I think the moon boys would react to a heavy storm

Marc:

my guy hates the rain

it brings back bad memories

especially hates thunderstorms. like just rain? ok fine. but does it have to come with loud noises and flashing lights? that's a bit much

when he was a kid, he would hide under his covers and stifle screams in his pillow every time thunder would crash

even as an adult, he still jumps every time it happens

he knows it's coming, he knows it can't hurt him, he knows he looks like a baby, but no matter what he does, he can't stop himself from flinching

he got teased about it a little bit when he was in the army and when he started being a mercenary but quickly showed people not to even think about doing that (meaning he beat the shit out of people who did)

likes to go inside, or as sheltered as he can get in a given situation, and wait until it has 100% stopped until he leaves again

just pretends like it's not raining and he's just staying inside by his own choice. he's fine, what are you talking about?

was devastated when steven decided to live in London lol

Steven:

he likes rain

he likes how it smells before and after it rains, he likes the sound, he likes feeling of it cooling his face

i mean, he lives in London, he better like the rain lol

enjoys having a tea and a book by a partly open window and just listening

will occasionally go on a walk without an umbrella or coat if it's not too heavy

he also forgets an umbrella a lot in general, so he walks through the rain pretty regularly

when he was younger, he was scared of thunderstorms and during a particularly stormy night, decided the best thing to do was hide in his parents' bed

his mom was furious and literally dragged him back to his bed and locked him in his room, cursing at him the whole time (steven doesn't remember this. he thinks she comforted him and walked him back to his bed)

at first, he was scared again and tried to go back to her but when that wasn't possible (he thinks his door got jammed), he ended up sitting by the window and watching the rain come down and the way the lightning lit up the buildings

because when danger is near, steven grant has no fear

after a while, he found it was really peaceful actually and still uses it as a way to calm down, even if it's really pouring

Jake:

like steven, doesn't have a problem walking through the rain but if it's really raining cats and dogs, prefers to wait it out

he doesn't like the feeling of soaked clothes and hates the way they cling to him. it just feels cold and weird

if he's had a really terrible day, he'll go for a short walk in the rain to help ground himself. give himself a stimulus to focus on while he reorients himself

these are always super short walks though. maybe around the block once max

especially enjoys the sound of rain on his car. the metallic tinking on the roof and the way the drops run down the windshield is very relaxing

he can still experience being in the rain without getting wet

enjoys the sound of rain but not thunder. the rain is nice and relaxing. the thunder is unnecessarily loud and jarring

despite not liking thunder, he gets excited over lightning

the bigger the lightning, the better

he'll just sit by the window and go "ooh... oOOH" with increasing excitement and a slightly crazed look as the lightning gets bigger

kinda wants to see something get struck one day even though he knows that would be bad

he wants to see a tree explode or something

#ok i'm done #it's late and i've got to go to bed #i really hope our power doesn't go out tho #we get school off for a couple days tho so that's nice #marvel #mcu #moon knight #moon knight 2022 #moon knight headcanon #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockely

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sylverstorms · 1 year

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Daniela x Maiden ---- Hunted Ch.8 (NSFW)

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

They say if you can master yourself, you can master everything.

You have years of hunting and self-taught combat to aid you in that department. Sharp senses, rapid reactions, great hand-eye coordination to work alongside your sturdy body. All of these traits have preserved your wellbeing on multiple occasions and are undeniably your greatest strengths.

So it is ironic that, in a mere moment, they can also become your greatest weakness.

One minute you are lounging in your bed, reading an old Romanian folklore book that piqued your interest from the main library. You are absorbed in the light stories and drawings there, of wish-granting fairies and trees with wills of their own, so much that your eyes begin to droop.

And then a strong gust of wind comes from outside. Whatever miniscule gap exists in the locking mechanism of your window allows the air to move the flimsy curtain covering it ever-so-slightly. At the same time, the very corner of your eye registers movement. A shadow; a bat, a monster, a trick of the light –it doesn’t matter.

It sets you off like a fire alarm.

Suddenly, you are leaping high into the air, eyes wide, frantic, you are bursting out of your room and you cannot breathe. That’s all it takes. Literally all it takes for you to fall apart; one stray little stimulus caught by your hunter senses and misinterpreted by your mind.

You’d smack straight into the opposite side of the corridor, if it wasn’t for the warm body you crash into, instead. The person unfortunate enough to be tackled into the wall manages to conceal the collision with a soft grunt. Their knees do not hit the ground when yours do. You’d apologize, if only you could find your voice. If your brain wasn’t closing in on you with thoughts of impending doom. If the roof wasn’t coming down to crush you–

“Hey, hey. Seren, take it easy.” A familiar, smoky voice calls your name. Firm digits press at your shoulder.

That… breaks you out of your panic mode a little. At least your body stops shaking. Surely, it’s a start. You suck deep breaths into your lungs, until you can finally look up to confirm who it is. Fine dark hair. Hazel eyes. Attractive jawline. Alexia crouches beside you so you don’t have to crane your neck up to meet her gaze.

“Are you alright? What happened?” she asks and her calmness is infectious.

“I–I almost fell asleep and then… I thought something outside my window moved.” God, you hate how breathless you sound. “I fucking –lost it.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, merely lets you count inhales and exhales while her eyes scan your room. “Can’t be a Samce; they don’t normally fly this low or approach the warmer parts of the castle.” she muses, more to herself than you. “Probably just a bat.”

You nod when your heartbeat stops pounding raw pain across your chest. “Yeah. This a thing that… happens.” Not often, but it does. Not that you could ever get used to this kind of impact.

“Sorry to hear that.” Alexia's lips press together. You take her offered hand to stand on your feet again. “Do you want to join me for a while?”

“Ah… wouldn’t want to keep you up.” you hesitate.

“Don’t worry about that. I think I’ll wait for Cassandra to return from her hunt, anyway.” she shrugs.

The two of you take slow, unhurried steps towards the human staff’s common room. You make sure to keep your voices down, not to disturb any of the other women sleeping as you pass by the locked doors of their chambers. Nobody wants to deal with complaining and death-glares come morning.

At your destination, Alexia pours you both some whiskey, hands you your glass and takes a seat beside you on the couch. Unlike most people, she doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with smalltalk. You appreciate the time she gives you to completely cool down.

“It’s not like you, to freak out like that.” comes the comment, eventually.

“It is, though.” It's a bitter reply, complete by taking a healthy gulp of alcohol that leaves a much-needed burn down your throat. “I’m not fearless like you.”

“I’m… what, now?” A thin eyebrow raises. “I think you’ve got the wrong person there.”

“No.” You shake your head. “The other maids talk of what you did. You were the first ever to escape. As well as the spark that improved living conditions here for the staff.” What guts that takes is beyond your comprehension.

“I improved living conditions for myself.” Alexia corrects. “Rhiannon advocated for the rest, not me. I’m not that selfless or that good.” So she says, but you are inclined to disagree.

“Well, anyway. You’re dating Cassandra.” There. Point made. If that doesn’t scream ‘fearless’, nothing does.

The edge of Alexia’s mouth quirks up. “Not for lack of fear.”

That answer, you were not expecting. It makes you shift your body towards her, the question evident in your expression. “...Really?”

“Of course. Do you know how long it took for my blood not to turn to ice, at that feral look she got in her eyes when hungry?” You never could have imagined she felt the same as you. Cassandra and she always look so comfortable together. “Before I ever spoke to her, she was the Dimitrescu I feared the most.”

“And how did you overcome that?” you animatedly ask.

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” The words come out perfectly even. “Once I realized that, I could set it aside more and more. At first, it was for benefit. Then, it was for love. Until it disappeared entirely.”

Well, that is… enlightening.

“Everyone has phobias and traumas, Seren, whether they are aware of them or not. Trust me, the Dimitrescus are no different than us in that regard.” Indeed, you’re starting to see that. “And maybe that’s the root of the problem. Healthy relationships are hard to build between wounded people.”

Wounded...

“Whatever is haunting you, you should talk about it. In time.” And with that, she finishes her drink. “Rhiannon is best suited to these kinds of things but… you also know where to find me.”

You smile. Raise your glass to that.

–

The daughters return in the ungodly hours of the morning. You hear the exact moment the heavy gates groan open from the top of the staircase, the hushed giggles that follow. Three dark, buzzing blurs make a beeline for the lit fireplace, where their figures solidify.

Cassandra is the first to push back her hood, head turning towards her girlfriend in the same swift motion. The dim firelight brings out the inhuman gold in her eyes that much more, gleaming like a cat’s. Rich blood coats the lower half of her lips and neck, glistens like a morbid jewel on her too-pale skin. Her smile is that of a wolf’s.

Your blood pressure rises from it, but Alexia regards her coolly, almost fondly. She’s prepared for the predator flashing in front of her face, as opposed to you, pushing backwards in pure, unrestrained reflex. But the wolf seems more and more domesticated the longer she stays there, locked in a staring competition with a human.

What surprises you is the fact she’s not looking down on a lesser, weaker species than herself. She sees her equal.

“Don’t you dare–” Alexia begins, but Cassandra has already pressed a bloody glove to her chin and made a point of dragging it down her neck.

“Now you need a bath, too.” A wink. “Don’t worry if it doesn’t come right off. I’ll just have to lick hard–”

“Too much information.” Bela knocks her shoulder into her sister’s on her way up the final step in a way that's no accident.

The low, answering growl would send most people running for the hills. Instead, the blonde ignores it, brings her hand up in a bored little wave as she passes you by. And then… the third shadow joins you, the smears on her lower face as red as her hair.

“Hey. I thought you’d be sleeping at this hour.” Daniela says, the quiet softness of her voice dizzyingly out of place against her bloodied image. “Miss me that much?” Subtly heterochrome eyes crinkle underneath her hood.

“Let’s go with that.” You reply.

“Well, since you’re up…” she drags the word out. “Mind drawing me a bath?” Puppy eyes. You get puppy eyes from the baby wolf of the family.

And of course… you’re not immune to them.

Which is why, five minutes down the line, you find yourself standing in the bathroom connected to her bedchambers, pointedly staring at the door as Daniela undresses –surely, she could do it faster?– and slips into the water behind you. You keep your mind on the decor, your back to her despite how it unnerves you, until the water has drained twice and she assures you you can look.

Slowly, you peek with one eye over your shoulder. True to her word, the steaming bathtub is now filled with salts and bubbles, the metallic scent and hue of blood gone. Daniela is laying back amidst the foam like a princess waiting to be painted, long crimson hair sticking to the marble surface that is almost as pale as her skin.

If you didn’t know what kind of monster she is, seeing her all relaxed here and looking up at you underneath those long lashes of hers, you’d think her a siren. Maybe she is one after all, because you approach, as if under a spell, the moment she motions you closer with a slight tilt of her chin.

No wonder she smells so good, if this is what she bathes in every day. You wave the stray thought as soon as it forms in your head. You also make a point to keep your eyes above her collar.

“I thought you don’t like having others around when you bathe.” you speak up, needing to steer your mind in a less intimate direction. This is the first thing you come up with, one of the first key pieces of information the older maids gave you about her.

“Normally… no.” she admits as if also saying ‘you, I don’t mind’. “But then again I usually keep my head submerged.”

“Oh. I do that, too. The calming effect only works with cold water, though.” You’d know. You have sought out its icy embrace to numb your racing heart, your pain, your fears. Everything.

“Does it.” There’s doubt in her voice. A distant look in her eyes that makes her appear… older, for a moment. The kind that hints she’s tried this for the same reasons you have. Perhaps in a different life.

You grimace. “The isolation part works, at least.” This is a road down loaded subjects you’re taking and it is too early –too draining– for that. You decide to steer your path in a lighter angle; “Anyway. Here I thought it was a modesty thing.”

Daniela’s gaze shifts to yours, turning more mischievous by the millisecond and it feels oddly good that she’s back to being the little shit you know. “Modesty is not a thing~” She pushes herself forward as she says it, chest puffed out, bubbles pulled along rosy, pebbled nipples–

Until your hand shoots out and presses her back down by the shoulder. “I can see that, I believe you!” The water is scorching, but you don’t care. Your face burns more.

Daniela giggles.

–

You wait in her room while she dresses and dries her hair. Busy yourself by looking around, taking in details you missed the first time you were here. Like the blood-red rose preserved in crystalline resin she has at the corner of her desk, the scented candle on the opposite, an array of lipsticks and glosses and other girly things laid out before the vanity that bears her family crest.

The click and soft hiss of the bathroom door make you pivot. It’s a good thing you did not take the rose into your hands to examine like you wanted, because you surely would have dropped it.

When you brought her that black, folded nightgown, you never pictured it would hug her frame so sensually. Or that its design would purposely draw attention to her chest, or that she wouldn’t be bothered to tie it properly around her waist.

The worst part is, none of it seems intentional, this time. Daniela is just lazily running a hand through her long hair, more focused on the pillows stacked at the head of her bed than you. She’s not even trying to be seductive and your stomach has been reduced to bits.

Bad, bad, need to get out of here–

“Seren.” There goes your escape. “Come lay with me for a while?” Sitting up against the pillows with the covers at her middle, she pats the ample space next to her. “The bed is cold.” She’s not lying; her back is rigid, hands pressed to her biceps.

“You know, it’s really late and I do need to sleep…” you try.

“Kniiiiiight…”

“Okay, okay, but only ten minutes!” As if the finger you hold up sets some kind of boundary in stone.

Her bed didn’t seem so intimidatingly large last time. You pull back the covers on your corner as if they’ll bite you, then kick off your shoes and settle –with all the unbreathing fluidity of a log– half-reclining on your side, your temple resting against your fist. Daniela removes her two monster teddies from getting squished between you, sets them on her bedside table with a pat on each of their heads.

And then… you feel her icy hands creep up your elbows. A slow sigh escapes her lips; her eyes flutter shut, head rolling closer to your shoulder.

You’re a heater for eight more minutes, that’s all you’re here for, you remind yourself over and over. But time begins to blur the closer she slides her body. Quarter… then half on top of you.

It’s –almost– fine for as long as she’s cold. It keeps you on your toes, doesn’t allow you to sink into the royal comfort of her bed or into her. Yet… she doesn’t stay cold for long.

Then her fingers roam up your deltoid, curl at your shoulder and her lips turn to find yours. Soft, too soft and plush, more parts lingering than kissing. Your mistake is getting greedy with what you’re given.

You of all people know not to play with fire, but you do not stop your hand from caressing the bare skin of her stomach where her gown has pulled open. Not even when you feel the hitch in her breathing. Instead, you let your tongue take the invitation of her open mouth to tangle with hers. You miss the first alarm bell when she shifts her weight fully on the leg between hers, presses into you a bit harder, effectively pinning you down.

You don’t miss the second, when her mouth trails from the corner of yours to latch onto your pulse and too-sharp teeth graze your skin. Once. Only once. Once is enough to startle you out of your heady dream and into the danger of reality. You push at her, but she doesn’t register the force.

“Daniela!”

The sound of her name makes her snap back, lift herself off of you on her hands and knees. At least she does it immediately, which doesn’t necessarily set you at ease, but…

But you see how her chest is heaving and her arms are straining on either side of your head. She’s reigning her instincts back as promised, expression torn between guilty and painfully turned on. Scared that you’ll push her and run off. Scared you’ll be scared to come close again.

And you should be.

“I–I’m sorry.” she huffs. “I wasn’t going to bite. Just– a little mark?” she explains. “It’s the first time I feel so–” Whatever she was about to say, she doesn’t. Then she whispers, softly, “Please don’t leave me like this.”

The thing is... you don’t want to leave her like this, either.

Your own feelings shock you, yet you want to finish what you started, despite how the idea of that ‘little mark’ causes your chest to tighten.

“Can you be good?” you whisper.

Her eyes darken further in response. She nods.

When you press at her shoulder and roll you both around, she puts up no resistance. And there is a startling appeal to be the one to pin her down like this, for her to allow it. To further reinforce your control, her hand carefully takes yours and guides it to her throat.

She is being good. And she must be rewarded for it. Which is why your fingers slowly trail down her smooth skin, from her chest to her navel, then hooking into the waistband of her lacy underwear. It sticks so mesmerizingly to her legs as you slowly pull it down…

A whimper escapes her lips the moment you touch her there. You swallow the next with your own when you press a bit further into velvet heat, establishing a rhythm between push, pull and the roll of your thumb. Daniela’s hands fly to the pillow beneath her head, gripping hard.

It’s less than two minutes later you feel how tense she is, her gasps and moans no longer muted. “Seren, Seren, I’m–”

You know she is. Her body breaks into a quaking shiver, her back arches and neck cranes. She’s beautiful and if all that is torn for you to witness this sight is a mere pillow, there won’t be enough reasons to stop you from seeking it out again in the future.

You slowly guide her down her high, until the predatory golden glow in her eyes gives way to much gentler yellowish blue. She smiles like you’ve just discovered a new star and named it after her. Then she releases the death grip she has on whatever is left of her pillow and trails her hand down your middle. Asking for permission. For direction, too.

After everything you’ve done, it takes only seconds for you to come apart on her fingers.

And then you get unbearably embarrassed, refusing to lift your head off her ruined pillow. She doesn’t seem bothered either way, sleepily playing with the spiky ends of your hair. Rolling, tugging.

Way to turn a mess into an already bigger mess, you think. It’s kind of like your superpower, at this point. As if this whole situation –your whole situation– wasn’t bad enough before feelings made it to the mix.

You are her first… and you’re about to become her first heartbreak.

Your mind begins to stress and race, until you hear her voice by your ear; “Oh, no. No, no.”

“Um…?” you lift your head cautiously. It will be easier if she regrets this. You brace yourself for it. Your heart. You can take pain and it is for the best, for everyone involved.

But Daniela is not looking at you. She’s looking at her stuffed monstrosities.

“Babiesssss.” she tells them, then carefully slides a hand out of the covers to turn them around, so they’re facing the door. “I’m so sorry, I scarred you for life. Ugh, I’m terrible…”

You squint. Stare.

“Seren.” She pats your nape. “You have to remind me to shield their eyes and ears next time.”

Wait.

Next time…?

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x oc #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #re8 #fanfiction #creative writing #SylverStorms #in which Daniela scars her monster babies for life

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heroes-anthesis · 2 months

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Character Introduction: Capgras (Cotard) the Clown

Gather, one and all, and behold the notorious Capgras the Happy Clown! Everyone trusts Capgras, everyone loves him- whether they like it or not.

Capgras is an identity forged from young-age abuse, trauma, and a variety of cartel drugs- forming through Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). After a brutal, twisted carnage of many throughout the 20 years of his existence within Charlie J Cotard;- Capgras had managed to secure his legacy through a form befitting his sadism. Barbed wire, screaming empowered, and each with their own torture and melding to grant him three hearts as well as a collection of new powers.

Art credit: ChatGPT (Paid, and I make sure to get commissions of each characters so AI art isn't overused, mainly for visual references)

Capgras' original power is STIMULUS- granting him the ability to manipulate every sense one may possess, including manipulating perception to hijack abilities by making them believe their abilities are not working correctly. With this, he has also obtained STALWART OF PRIMORDIALS through besting a reality warper, LIE and FLIRT by torturing and collecting a mental manipulator, and a form for days.

With this, his body is fast, strong, agile, filled with barbed wire, capable of changing shape, and utilizing his reality warping- his arms are known to lack elbows, only mimicking their presence. Often-times, Capgras extends his arms and other limbs to 100s of feet long.

So far, Capgras' crimes are:

Kidnapping: Multiple instances, including abducting individuals for his sinister purposes.

Murder: Several counts, often using his abilities to manipulate or directly cause the deaths of others.

Psychological Torture: Inflicting mental and emotional suffering on victims, often as a form of manipulation or for his own amusement.

Brainwashing: Manipulating thoughts, emotions, and memories to brainwash the innocent- including one of the highest ranking soldiers in Charlotte.

Creating and Spreading Terror: Using his powers and presence to instill fear and chaos throughout the community.

Assault: Physically attacking individuals either directly or through the manipulation of surroundings and situations.

Forced Mutation/Transformation: Altering individuals against their will, including fusing them with others or changing their physical or mental states.

Destruction of Property: Causing extensive damage to buildings, landscapes, and other structures during his confrontations or as a means to spread fear.

Desecration: Violating sacred places, often to conduct his rituals or as a means to mock societal norms and values.

Conspiracy to Commit Crimes: Planning and orchestrating criminal activities that involve other individuals, either willingly or under his control.

And countless more.

Capgras may smile, and he may adore children, but he is not to be trusted. He is insane, twisted, and psychologically deranged- but a genius. He understands guilt, he understands empathy- he feels for others, just as his old host did...only difference, Capgras adores it.

Art credit: https://www.fiverr.com/adenizza?source=order_page_user_stamp_link

#discord rp #superhero #superhero rp #roleplay #rp #clown oc #clowncore #villain #villains and heroes

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ercexpress · 7 months

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🚨🚨Self Employed Tax Credit Refund🚨🚨

Get up to $32,220

1099 Contractors and Self-Employed affected By COVID-19 Can Get Federal Tax Refunds Immediately

SEE HOW MUCH YOU QUALIFY FOR INSTANTLY

https://llconsultingservices.money/selfemployed

#self employed #business #money #grant #irs #finance #self empowerment #stimulus

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companionjones · 2 years

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My Job

Pairing: Josh Lyman x (She/her)Reader

Fandom: The West Wing

Summary: After a heroic but tragic act, the Senior Staff waits for you to come out of surgery in a hospital waiting room.

Warnings: Surgeries, some cursing, major angst, about as violent as West Wing can get on its worst days

This story is inspired by @fanficfanatic1997’s story Fresh Bruises. If you’re a West Wing fan, I highly recommend you read this. It’s a multi-part story, and it is very beautifully written.

*******

The waiting room was quieter than it should’ve been. Of course it was. A member of the United States Senior Staff was currently being operated on. CJ was leaning her head on Toby’s shoulder as the two sat on a couple chairs. Sam and Donna sat, quietly talking. They didn’t know what else to do with themselves. Josh was who sat alone. No one knew what to say to him.

Leo walked in then, setting everything into motion. “How is she?”

Even though he wasn’t the President, mostly everyone else in the room stood when Leo entered.

Sam started filling in the Chief of Staff. “She has one stab wound in her abdomen, the other in her shoulder, pretty close to her neck.”

Toby kept his voice down, in light of Josh. “It doesn’t look good. She lost a lot of blood.”

CJ, as always, was the voice of compassion. “She fought him off. I don’t know how she did it. She fought off an assailant of the President and won. The guy went down.”

Donna asked, “Do we know who he was yet?”

Normally, Leo couldn’t have told a secretary such secretive information, but it wasn’t sensitive anymore. Really, it wasn’t sensitive as soon as you killed the attacker, but it definitely wasn’t sensitive by then. Most of the news stations were already reporting the whole story. Leo informed, “His name was Carl Henrikson. He was acting alone. The last stimulus apparently wasn’t enough for him to keep his home and job.”

“Like he deserved them,” Donna remarked as CJ got on the phone.

The Press Secretary apologized, “I’ve stayed here too long already. Toby, you’ll keep me updated?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“And not just for--”

“--Not just for the job, I know. I know you care about her just as much as the rest of us, Claudia.” It was one of the rare moments Toby Ziegler had softness in his eyes.

CJ nodded in sincere thanks to her friend, then took her leave.

Leo did the same, except instead of exiting the room, the Chief of Staff went to sit next to his deputy. “She’ll be alright,” he told Josh. “You know Y/n. She’s the best fighter there is. She’ll make it through this.”

For the first time since you had left his arms, Josh spoke, “I don’t think I can do this without her.”

“Do what?” Leo wondered.

“My job.” Josh’s voice cracked when he answered. He looked so empty. “I don’t think I can do anything without her.”

“Mr. Lyman?” a doctor suddenly interrupted, approaching the Chief and his deputy.

They stood, and so did everyone else in the room.

“What’s the news on her?” Leo inquired, knowing Josh was too far away in his head to really pay attention.

The doctor gave her spiel, but all Josh really got was that you were still unconscious. “Can I see her?”

He alone was granted visitation. Josh was shaking so much on his way to you. When he finally saw you, Josh thought he died because his whole body froze up. Maybe he was only dreaming. Maybe you weren’t actually laying there, in that be, barely breathing and looking entirely lifeless.

“You look horrible.” Josh’s tentative jibe barely did anything to break the suffocating silence of the room. Josh thought he was going to throw up when you didn’t reply with a slight in kind. “What were you thinking, taking that guy on? Did you think you were some bulletproof superhero that could kick everyone’s ass? God, you would need to be a real idiot--” He cut himself off then, finally realizing that he was taking his anger out on you. “I-I’m sorry. I know you didn’t deliberately take him on. I know he tried to shove his way past you, and you probably just reacted...” Josh took the steps needed to get to the side of your bed. “...Though, knowing you, it probably wasn’t just a reaction. You were protecting the President. I probably would’ve done the same, but I’d probably be in worse shape than you if I had...If there is a such thing as worse shape...this really isn’t your best day. Maybe it’s your hair?...” Josh shook his head. “You’re killing me with this ‘not answering’ thing...You gotta wake up. You’ve gotta wake up, and then we’ll go home, and then you’ll force me to go to bed even though I’ve got work to do at home like I do every night...Just...wake up...please?...Come on, babe. I need you to wake up for me. God, when I saw you go down, I don’t think I’ve breathed since then. And when I had you in my arms, an-and your blood...” There was that feeling of throwing up again. “God, they couldn’t have brushed your hair or something--?”

“Would you shut up about how I look already?” sounded your weak, scratchy voice.

Josh’s heart simultaneously dropped into the pit of his stomach and jumped into his throat. “Y/n? Y/n, oh my god. I’ll ring a nurse.” He pressed the button above your bed. “How are you feeling? Do you need water?”

“Yeah,” you rasped.

Josh turned his back to get you some but when he turned back, he barely thought to put the cup on your bedside table before lunging for you. “Y/n! Don’t try to sit up now.”

You sighed, laying back down. “It was worth a try.” You took the straw Josh offered you in your mouth. As you took a few sips of water, you saw Josh staring at you. “What?”

“You’re just--so beautiful.”

That got you to snort. “Nice try at a save, honey.”

He was smiling with all his teeth. “Doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. It’s true.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled.

A few hours later, your room was buzzing with people. All the Senior Staff were there. Even CJ made it back about an hour after you woke up. There were happy reunions, and everyone refused to leave you and planned to stay by your side until the nurses threw them out. Only Leo had to head back to the White House, and he reluctantly did so after asking you several times if you were okay with it. Of course you were.

By then, you were all doing your jobs, despite the late hour of the night. There had just been an assassination attempt on the President, after all. You had begged everyone, especially Josh, to give you some work. What else were you supposed to do? Josh was still a little hesitant about putting you under any sort of pressure, but have the reason you wanted to work was to annoy your partner. You chuckled at Josh when you finally got your way.

“Who the hell gave Y/n a laptop?”

Everyone in the room sprung to their feet. “Good evening, Mr. President,” was said by everyone almost at the same time.

“Good evening, Mr. Prez--” Josh took his turn to say, but then he caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye. “What are you--?”

CJ saw you almost simultaneously, and she worriedly sprung toward you. “Y/n!”

Nearly everyone else voiced their alarm as well, and several others tried to stop you from standing up in the President’s presence.

“Y/n, are you crazy? You’ve just been stabbed! You don’t need to stand up for the President.” Josh reprimanded you, only fighting a small smile.

President Bartlet backed up his Deputy Chief of Staff, “Y/n, I promise I won’t be disrespected if you don’t stand. Hell, after what you’ve done for me tonight, I wouldn’t feel disrespected if you threw a tomato at me every time I entered a room.”

“Yeah, but I would,” notified Dr. Bartlet as she entered the room with Zoey and Charlie behind her. “The stains would be hell to get out.”

The President jokingly rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you had to do my laundry?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m still surprised I had to do it at all seeing I met you when you were already old enough to vote.”

Ignoring her parents, Zoey walked up to you and kissed your cheek. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much for what you did for my father.”

You didn’t know what to respond with either, so after an affectionate smile to Zoey, you referred back to the 'trying to stand up when you were seriously injured’ thing. “Sorry about that, Mr. President. It’s a force of habit.”

President Bartlet’s brow raised. “Oh boy, I hope you’re not apologizing for saving my life earlier.”

“Of course not, sir. I just--”

Dr. Bartlet stepped in to save you. “You don’t need to clarify, Y/n. My husband was just trying to be funny. Which he really has no room to do because he likely wouldn’t be standing here without you.”

“Oh, I doubt that, ma’am. There were tons of secret service--”

“But you were the one to take him down, Y/n,” Abbey cut you off to say. “Thank you. Thank you so much for what you have done for us. We are truly in debt to you for this.”

The President nodded, “That is true, Y/n. There is nothing I could possibly do to get you back for this.”

“With all due respect, that’s not on the table, sir, ma’am.” You clarified, turning back to Jed, “You are the President of the United States. It’s my job to protect you. Although, I never thought I’d be doing it in such a direct way.” You tried at a joke, then quickly grew serious again. “And...you being the President really had nothing to do with this, sir. I look up to you. Just like everyone else in this room. I did what I felt was right in the moment, and I got lucky.”

“And thank God you did,” Jed thanked you sincerely. He took your hand, kissed the back of it, then clasped it in both his hands. You shared a moment with the President, then he placed your hand back at your side.

President Bartlet then noticed Josh, whom Jed realized had been staring a hole into your forehead pretty much since the President and his family had entered the room. Bartlet rescued the Deputy Chief of Staff. “Alright, everybody out. It’s well past midnight and all of you need some help.”

Although a couple of them looked disappointed to leave, they all, of course, followed the President’s casual order. Everyone had a quick personal goodbye to you, save for Toby, who only gave you a quick nod on his way out. You knew he wasn’t really one for sentimental words.

Josh was the only one who didn’t move from his spot, and he gave a look to President Bartlet that said he was sorry for disobeying his sort-of-order, but there was no way Josh was leaving your side for a long time.

Jed nodded, “I understand, Josh. I got everyone else out so the two of you could be alone for a little while.” He said the last part much lower, “And I am truly sorry for all of this. What this must have triggered for you, and nearly losing--”

Josh couldn’t heart that said out loud. “I’m just happy she’s okay, Mr. President.”

Bartlet understood. “That’s right. You two have a nice night.”

“I should be back at work in about a week or so, sir. If you don’t need me,” Josh notified.

Bartlet smiled at that. Leo must have told the President what Josh was thinking about doing. “Take all the time you need, the both of you,” were his last words before taking his leave.

Josh turned his attention back to you. “Yeah, I’m not letting you back in the White House until a month after the doctors give the okay.”

“You’re not gonna let me,” you laughed, “Yeah, okay. We’ll see how that goes...You’re staring again.”

Josh grinned, “If I tell you why, you’re gonna yell at me again.”

“Maybe I won’t this time. Try it,” you encouraged.

His smile grew. “You’re beautiful. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and you only get more beautiful every day.”

You snorted, “Yeah, right.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It’s true. I’ve never said anything more true in my entire life.”

You chuckled, “Get over here and gold me so I can fall asleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.” That dopey grin was back. Josh climbed into your hospital bed with you and you settled into his arms. The two of you rested in the silence for a moment before Josh said in a more serious tone, “I really did miss you.”

“I know.”

“I was terrified that you were--”

“I know, but I’m still here.”

“I know,” Josh swallowed, and pulled you closer to him. “I know.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more West Wing stories over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#josh lyman #west wing #the west wing #josh lyman x reader #west wing x reader #the west wing x reader #bradley whitford #companion jones #my job

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monstersdownthepath · 1 year

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Monster Spotlight: Psychic Stalker

CR 7

Neutral Evil Medium Undead

Occult Bestiary, pg. 45 (also Bestiary 6, pg. 216)

Violent and envious undead created when a psychic spellcaster dies a hideous and violent death, Psychic Stalkers are a step above Shadows and Will-o-the-Wisps on the “invisible, incorporeal, bastardous monster that’s incredibly difficult to harm” ladder. The Formless ability of a Stalker makes it invisible, incorporeal, and impossible to detect or reveal through any means or spell; no Invisibility Purge, no See Invisibility, no Glitterdust or Faerie Fire, not even the old flour trick will work here! You’ve all the frustrations of fighting an enemy that cannot be seen or hit with nonmagical weapons in a single monster here! What more could you ask for?

There is SOME mercy in this design, though: it lacks the titanic AC and magic immunity of the Will-o-wisp (though it has twice as much HP to make up for it), and lacks the ability to cause depopulation events like a Shadow can. Also, it’s a high-enough level threat that the party is starting to get some AoE spells, and since it’s not immune to magic, the party caster can just blast its general area, and the party Cleric can weaken it with pulsed Channel Energy if needed. ... you know, if you know it’s there. A Psychic Stalker can jumpscare an otherwise prepared and alert party because it basically doesn’t exist until it gets right on top of the party and attacks, and its first attack may as well be undodgable thanks to being an incorporeal touch attack... which, depending on who it hits, may just end them instantly.

See, while Shadows attack Str and Willywisps attack HP, Psychic Stalkers attack Charisma, the most dumped stat in the entire game. There is no saving throw to avoid a Stalker’s consumption of a victim’s ego; if it hits with an incorporeal touch attack (which it has a +10 to), that’s an automatic 1d6 Cha damage. If you dumped Cha to 6 or 8 and the Stalker gets lucky, you may be out of the fight before initiative is even rolled. Luckily, the death caused by their Charisma damage isn’t instant, because a creature at 0 Charisma can survive by making DC 20 Will saves... but, unluckily, this is because Stalkers want their victims alive. Specifically, they want their victims at half their normal Cha, something--again--they may be able to do with a single attack.

Any creature who’s lost half their Cha score can be targeted by the Stalker’s Fleeting Possession, a dangerous and draining form of inhabitation that can be resisted with a DC 20 Will save (which renders the creature immune to further attempts for 24 hours). A creature that fails falls under the Stalker’s control, where it then immediately begins to deluge its senses with whatever stimulus it can. Drinking potions, eating rations, slamming its hands in a door, screaming and shouting and singing, the Stalker does whatever it can in the short time it has before its host’s mind is torn apart and the host is killed, because the Stalker continues to uncontrollably deal 1d6 Cha damage to the possessed victim every round, which can and will eventually kill them.

In an interesting twist, the Stalker becomes vulnerable when it’s just about to possess someone. Anyone suffering even a single point of Cha damage from the creature’s touch attack is able to see exactly where it is, viewing it as an abstract cloud of psychic energy with the image of a skull inside it. While this negates the advantage granted by its invisibility, it’s still incorporeal and thus immune to nonmagic weapons. While you’re bound to have at least one or two by the time you’re expected to fight one of these, there’s a chance you won’t depending on your DM, so seeing it doesn’t really mean much for a victim that doesn’t have a direct way to damage or deflect it before it flies into their body and uses it to savage the rest of the party.

Though the Stalker is willing to waste time sating its mad lusts for sensation, attacking it while it’s in possession of a host body is a good way to make it lash out with all its new skills and muscle. After all, who’s more likely to have dumped Charisma and gotten possessed in the first place: the Sorcerer, or the Fighter? Again and again I say that the most dangerous monster a party can face is itself, and this one comes with the caveat that not ending the Possession effect in 2 or 3 rounds spells death for the victim even if you manage to slap them with Hold Person to keep them from attacking everyone. And then the Psychic Stalker just moves on to the next nearest creature to begin the cycle all over again.

Except now it has help, because any creature it slays with its possession becomes an echohusk that’s bound to obey its every mental command. So I suppose you could say I lied when I said it can’t cause a depopulation event, because it’s very possible that the party could encounter the stumbling remains of a former town that trundles towards them and have a confusing but worrying moment wondering why the zombies are preferring nonlethal damage and restraints... and then the grappled Rogue suddenly loses half their Charisma to a foe no one else can see. Really, the fact that it’s utterly invisible except to the creature it’s attacking may just make the party think some form of illusion is at play instead of a creature, especially if there’s zombies keeping the rest of the party from thinking clearly.

You can read more about them here.

#Monster Spotlight #CR 6 to 10 #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

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anthonybialy · 7 months

Text

Israel Battles Evildoers Who Got Rich for Some Reason

Hamas doesn’t switch to a rainbow avatar for June. I’m trying to get liberals to hate them. These are tough times for the anti-Semitic. You don’t have to feel bad for the worst sort of haters. Save concern for an assaulted nation that is demonized for existing.

Baseless vitriol has escalated to monstrous action. Slaughtering people going about their lives constitutes the clearest violation of life itself as possible in case anyone’s unclear. One party seems disturbingly so. The sole country in the Middle East without oil functions the best, which enrages those whose faith revolves around jealousy.

One side created civilization out of nothing. The other tries to turn civilization into nothing. All-time lies accusing Jews of doing awful things while actual awful things are done to them is one of humanity’s most appalling regular occurrences. The latest war could only seem worse upon realizing it’s nothing new.

Half of the sides are fiendish. Invading terrorists may just be the bad guys. Forget gruesome nonsense about Israel stealing land nobody wanted and that they just might have resided upon a few thousand years ago: acting like both attacker and target are perpetrators is the sophisticated way to lie. You just know Israel’s foes were asking by noon on September 11, 2001 why they hate us.

“Cycle of violence” is the dark magic phrase to spot. Anti-Semites realize how unpopular they are right now, so they conceal their bigotry by condemning an alleged cycle instead of the terrorists who began it. A mugger attacks victim. Said victim defends against threat to life, property, and liberty. Liberals shake their heads at the actions of both. The phonily high-minded would’ve lamented the cycle of violence on D-Day.

Israel’s antagonists pair pretend outrage with actual harm. As usual, Democrats spurred agony by trying to help. That’s sadly the best-case scenario. You might be more generous than deserved and presume they’re not actively encouraging mayhem. The best case is that doing such would require planning ahead.

Stimulus checks for Hamas got their sole industry humming. A foreign policy that was already discredited has added granting an allowance to barbarians as a bullet/low point.

It turns out there are worse bribes than giving liberals useless degrees at taxpayer expense. You’ll be shocked to learn those who shriek about paying back money they borrowed to major in political science so they can afford to keep patronizing artisan baristas don’t grasp how budgeting works.

Blaming the police for crime has devastated countless innocent humans. The principle has gone international. The baffling view that cops were the ones causing problems enabled subway-shovers. Its daft holders covered Iran’s discretionary rocket budget.

The White House did their part to wreck society and inhabitants by bailing out America’s sworn enemy. That’s America’s White House, for the record. The typical excuse is their usual one, namely that they had no idea their ideas would unleash perniciousness. Ruining budgets for Americans is accompanied by tossing cash at lunatic mullahs.

Democrats believed Saddam Hussein was building a chocolate chip factory, too. The only thing keeping Iran from prompting more devastation is ineptness. Joe Biden is here to help them. Claims that Iran’s trust fund won’t be spent irresponsibly are based in a Post-it stuck on the cash sacks noting it’s for humanitarian aid, which would be laughable if not for the blood splattered on Israeli streets. Their pet terrorists attacked Israel less than a month after funds suddenly became free. This presidency strongly discourages noticing consequences.

Earth’s most nefarious terror state used different bills to fund terror, so tell your conscience to pipe down. Take from this pile, not that one. A notion that’s either disingenuous or ignorant sums up liberal thinking. The mob budgets in the same way, with the difference being they can operate businesses.

Iran’s centrifuges spin in celebration. The usual mendacious scumbags cherish the subsidy, although they won’t send a thank you card. Democrats have gone out of their way to enable shoplifters, violent agents of urban chaos, and border-hoppers, so the terrible assault against Israel is no more surprising than who facilitated it.

Leave it to liberals to not grasp how loosening up dollars permits spending on other things. Why would anyone stick to some lame budget? Iran could’ve just printed more money.

An unwillingness to modify a budget because it would mean less fun is the signature economic principle from the adult children staffing this White House. You might have to choose grilled cheese instead of Chuck E. Cheese if funds are tight unless you live near the Tehran location. Under Biden, bread is a luxury, but only in his home country.

Iran’s hobby is funding terrorism. Their free-time pursuit was funded by Biden putting them on the honor system. Aiding maliciousness while hassling the decent is regrettably natural from an administration through its consistent opposition to reality.

Biden’s pals are being uncool. His fervent dedication to attempting peace by befriending the sinister hasn’t quite convinced them to behave. He’s still lunching alone in the cafeteria.

Inflation making money worth less finally helps, as medieval intruders couldn’t buy as many implements to inflict atrocities. Liberating funds on September 11 for a real cartoonish villain was not just symbolically disgusting.

Heinous Hamas will find a new homeland in the sea. The prototypical human demons are as evil as they are stupid. An excuse for Israel to remove a roving gang of serial killers will be executed with no help from a feckless president that allows mayhem like a substitute teacher.

Hamas failed to anticipate Israel’s righteously swift response for the same shortsighted reason lottery winners who don’t plan ahead spend until they’re broke. They just bought rockets with the Biden cash infusion instead of McMansions.

Opening wallets so terror benefactors can grab walking-around money turns out to not be a super strategy for finances and pace. A president who wants to disarm law-abiding Americans coordinated Venmoing the Hamas rocket fund. Add “fungible” to the ceaseless list of words liberals don’t understand.

#Israel #Iran #Joe Biden #Hamas #terrorism

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years

Note

You said that before Admin, Ludwig has contained Krulu after his escape, and then Admin appeared and became vessel, but how human ended up meeting Ludwig. The only one we know is close friend with Ludwig and has close access to humans is Fasma.

He was the one who made us Krulu’s Admin, wasn’t he, or i’m just watching too many MatPat theories?

[No anon, you're paying attention, which warms my heart really.]

How Admin meets Krulu + Ludwig

Ludwig and Admin actually met in rather simple ways. Your life was still normal back then, you were just a human going about your daily life, the thought of ancient gods didn't cross your mind and you didn't see very many monsters where you lived. You met the wrath demon through online means, simple chatting with someone who happened to be in the same community group as you. You both played the same games, he was exceptionally good at them, so you wanted to be on his teams naturally.

A friendships unfolds as the two of you find you have similar tastes in humor and are actually a little lonely. This was a bond that was slowly, carefully, inching its way into a relationship over the handful of times you two physically met up.

Until shit hits the fan that is. :)

Let me explain something in brief terms here- Ludwig has two siblings, Mervin (Merv) and Obadiah (Obie), each one of them always appears to have their eyes closed. This is because his particular lineage of monster has strong powers connected to the eyes (which is common in demon monsters, if you recall Santi's abilities). As the middle child, he actually didn't get the shit end of the stick for once. Whenever he opens even just one of his eyes, Ludwig gets to both immobilize the people he's staring at and see these very wavy, distorted rifts in the fabric of reality. Tangible entities that only he, his siblings and some other handful of monsters can both perceive and use to travel at high speeds between different locations. He's got a small map with certain rifts pinned down across the world for personal use.

Well, it just so happens that our oblivious demon boy finds one particular rift tucked away in a nook, that allows him to access the nothingness in which Krulu and other entities are trapped. It was a mistake, more than likely. This "dimension" of sorts should be inaccessible to all except Siadar. Imagine his initial distress, and growing curiosity, as Ludwig finds himself being able to traverse in and out of this dark limbo. He makes the mistake of assuming it is barren, since nothing approaches him while he's there and all that's ever heard are noises too ambiguous to tell if someone's actively there or not. The nothingness is populated, it's just that the creatures there have learned to be silent and subtle, so as to not alert the famished god that traverses its dirty ground restlessly. Ludwig not only makes the mistake of letting out noises but also carrying a light source with him, however insignificant it may be in the face of such thick darkness. Furthermore, he returns to it regularly, intent on discovering why it exists.

Krulu, at this point vastly feral due to lack of stimulus and perpetual hunger, is alert enough to pick up on the several glimpses of undamned flesh traversing through this pocket prison regularly. And at first, his fogged brain doesn't think of anything else but the possibility of food. Real meat. Something that squeals in pain, makes noise, looks different, something to both fill his stomach and feed his malnourished senses. A toy. A meal. Something. It's only a matter of time before Ludwig is caught. By the time realizes he's being hunted, it's already too late.

In a moment of striking lucidity, though not without some previous inflicted trauma, Krulu realizes that Ludwig is of much more use to him than just a meal. Granted, he may be a monster, therefore an unfit host, but if the higher could still stuff himself inside Ludwig for just long enough to catch a ride out, he could fix that in no time. So, essentially, Ludwig is threatened into smuggling Krulu out the nothingness (kind of like how you'd smuggle a bag of coke up your ass). Now, obviously, the higher can't stay in Ludwig's body for too long or the demon will die, eventually. And Krulu can't really expose himself on Earth without a host to muffle his presence, it's too risky. So what happens is that Ludwig captures humans that catch Krulu's interest and transfers him over to them.

They were never strong enough to hold him.

Krulu is old, "voluminous" and heavy. He's complex, thick, corrosive. Most humans can't handle a being like him. After a while, all his hosts would start to deteriorate, blisters forming all over their bodies, organs liquefying, suffocating, limbs twisting out of place. They suffered horrible deaths, even short lengths of contact would leave permanent, severe damage. There comes a point where Ludwig loses all hope, and frankly, he's not enjoying the fact that he's bringing about the death of what must amount to hundreds of humans. He feels himself getting stronger as a wrath demon because of his increasing kills, but by no means were those dignified victories. Lud wasn't fighting these humans fair and square, he was slaughtering them mercilessly for the unhinged and increasingly frustrated god within him. Every second spent with Krulu was a special type of torture, feeling their claws scrape at Ludwig's brain, trying to hold onto his body desperately- Hearing that incessant murmuring and getting blasted with thoughts that aren't his, memories too intense to process, sentiments he can't digest. Ludwig was dying. And he had come to terms with it, he was suffering for his stupidity.

All this time, the monster had given you nothing but radio silence, so it only made sense that you'd send him a text just to check in. Well, it's that same text that jolted Ludwig into remembering you, which then prompted Krulu to flicker through all the demon's memories of you and determine that you would be their next attempt at a vessel. Naturally, Ludwig was not on board. Everyone up until that point had died horribly, he expected the same to happen to his friend/crush. No matter how angry he got, Lud couldn't hope to stop Krulu, and so he was forced to betray you. To establish contact with you and force a banished, clearly demented god into your body.

Ludwig was there for every second of the beginning of your relationship with Krulu. He remained when you convulsed, cried and tore your throat screaming through the pains of welcoming them. He remained when you cursed him to fates worse than death, when you swore you'd kill him with your bare hands for what he had damned you to. He persisted when you and Krulu got into disagreements, when you had trouble detailing the modern world to this old entity, when you got panic attacks from the erratic changes of your biology- Through thick and thin, essentially.

This monster saw the start of your madness, of your slow but genuine descent into infatuation with Krulu. He saw their taste for blood and punishment seep into your very bones. He sat there and helped Krulu destroy you, make of you the perfect lesser, the perfect devotee. And at the same time that it crushed Ludwig inside, it was either that or let you die.

In the end, he got a reward of his choosing for being of aid to the higher and their goals. For getting him the perfect vessel. Ludwig chose the ability to better control his wrath, and consoles himself with that gained ability whenever he thinks about what he did to you.

Because even if you thank Ludwig for introducing you to Krulu, for "bettering your life", Lud still feels like he betrayed you.

#Krulu oc #Ludwig oc #general tce #me dumping mentally ill amounts of lore on you

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