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#was my original intention but now it’s more subtle
englass · 10 months
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Concept/Title: Touch
Pairing(s): John Seed x Fem!Reader (because I was thinking of him when I started this, but—), Male!Character x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 402
Warning(s): NSFW/Explicit, Filth and Fluff, Implied Yandere? (was aiming for that originally but don’t think it completely carried through— oops)
A/N(s): I once famously said that Plains and Valleys would (very likely) be my only smut piece… As you can see, that’s now not quite true 🙈😅
-/-/-
You gasp, twitching in your prone position against the sheets. Held down gently by your lover as you keen high and reedy, his arm pinned across your abdomen as the fingers of his free hand curl inside you. Drawing out your orgasm and threatening to push you into another as he mouths at your cunt, tongue flat and firm against your clit as a satisfied growl rumbles in his chest.
The deep sound makes you clench tighter around his fingers, has you whining prettily for him as he rewards you with a teasing brush of his lips, a brief and gentle scrap of teeth against your sensitive skin.
God, you’re so gorgeous, he utters, voice wrecked between your thighs, so pretty for me like this; could watch you cum on my fingers all day. Fuck, I love you, —
Teeth sink into the meat of your thigh, a passionate bite that has you yelping as he suddenly thrust his fingers as deep as they can go with a growling snarl. Tears beading in the corners of your eyes at the sweet sting of overstimulation. Hand blindly grabbing at his wrist as you bite into the back of your other hand, barely stifling the almost tortured whine of his name.
I need you to cum for me again, he pants, sucking and worrying his tongue in a purposeful drag over the impromptu bite mark, Can you do that for me, sweetheart? You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, hm?
The tears run down the side of your face, writhing amongst the twisted sheets with a shake of your head. Wanting a reprieve from the onslaught of sensation against your sensitive skin.
No? Leaning close, bracketing you in under his sturdy form, his breath a hot caress against your ear and his thumb a soothing sweep across your tacky cheeks, brushing your tears away, Not even on my cock?
The offer makes you tighten around his fingers, whimper as that sting eases into something more, interest piqued as a new hunger curls low within your stomach.
You’ve been such a good girl for me. Doing so well taking my fingers, looking so pretty cumming on my tongue. Don’t you want more?
He moves down then back up. Lips kissing and brushing in a leisurely descent and climb over your stomach, chest, neck, jaw and cheek. Stopping once again to teasingly breath into your sensitive ear, Don’t you want me?
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messiahzzz · 5 months
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i have seen several posts around that addressed how discouraging gale from taking the crown of karsus is “keeping him from realizing his true potential.” that tara is merely upset at his choice, instead of being utterly devastated at the loss of her little love. that it’s not a bad ending per se because to get there he didn’t need to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls in the process. gale isn’t continuing the cycle of abuse either, he still appears to love tav and does come back for them to offer them ascension. he wants them to be equal, so it can’t possibly be an unhealthy dynamic, right?
but what of gale himself, his own convictions, values, and everything he holds dear? everything flawed and human that shaped him into the person he is?
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player: are you saying you want to ascend? claim godhood?
gale: no, not like that. i don't want to join them. i want to better them. a god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.
gale’s motivation for acquiring godhood is that he will able to aid mortals in a way no other god has ever done before. he won’t hide behind pretense nor require blind devotion of his followers. he will understand and be able to empathize. he wholeheartedly believes that he will be different - he will act.
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gale: [..] the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind ao. so let us act ourselves.
gale believes that by becoming a god he will kill two birds with one stone: aid mortals and acquire enough power to quash any of his insecurities and enemies in the process. that by ridding himself of every perceived flaw he'll finally feel like he will have enough to offer - maybe, just maybe he'll even be content. his flaws are merely holding him back from becoming the best version of himself, and by ridding himself of everything fallible, he will be whole. maybe this is what all of his suffering has led up to. maybe the orb chose him. maybe the reason he had to endure all the pain, isolation, and excruciating loneliness was so that he could realize that he was meant for something even greater. after all, power feeds ambition. and what is more powerful than a god? his convictions were certainly naive, he possesses enough knowledge to know better. don't get me wrong, part of him definitely wants to spite mystra a lil. but his intentions at that time were mostly pure. a reflection of his self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy.
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player: this is wrong, gale. that power will corrupt you, even if you can seize it.
gale: it won't, i swear to you. it's merely a tool - a means to an end.
once we meet gale at the party in his new godlike form, it is apparent that even with all the power at his fingertips, he has reached no greater knowledge about himself. his insecurities are still as present as before, he merely is less subtle in his compensation - repeatedly highlighting his grandeur and how dull life on faerun is compared to the wonders of elysium. it is also genuinely crushing to see how little he thinks of himself even now.
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gale: i was nothing. a drifting dust mote of a wizard, abandoned by my goddess, my powers lost, my reputation destroyed. and look at me now. i'm their proof.
any perceived dismissal of his Greatness™ is met with immediate disdain.
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gale: a bold decision to treat a divine being with such cold indifference.
nodecontext: aloof, annoyed you weren't impressed with him
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gale: you mortals do love to live dangerously, don't you?
nodecontext: the slightest hint of a threat - you've probably made an enemy here today. or at least, you've lost a friend.
he is still desperate to impress. emphasizing what an honor it is that a new-born god chose to bless their little soiree with his presence. gaze upon all his divine glory! gale has now become the embodiment of everything he criticized about the gods. his original intentions and plans are discarded and long forgotten. he assuages his erstwhile companions by telling them to simply pray to him, in case they should ever require aid. if they're lucky and their ambition pleases him, he might even deliver.
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player: what does the 'god of ambition' offer to his followers?
gale: i 'offer' them nothing. i inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves.
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player: interesting, so you help mortals help themselves?
gale: precisely. though that isn't to say i'm averse to the odd bit of direct encouragement.
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gale: [..] my aims are set a little higher than offering cursory blessings to just any half-decent spellcaster.
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gale: regardless, ethical quandaries are more the remit of my mortal devotees. they do love to talk, and faerun is starting to listen.
aiding "any half-decent spellcaster" is unbefitting of his status. he isn't concerned with questions of ethics and morality either. deeming such matters beneath his divine capabilities.
once gale has ascended and established his domain, what remains of the gale we knew? what of his mortal heart?
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minthara: your ambition is not cruel, but you fear that if you indulge it, you will lose yourself in the mysteries of the weave and unravel the world.
minthara: you are afraid of so many things, and it is that fear that keeps you true to yourself.
gale did lose himself and ultimately became one of his biggest fears. considering that his existence as a being of pure ambition leads him to constantly seek out greater heights, it isn't farfetched to believe that raphael's prediction will indeed come true.
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player[astarion]: ambition? finally, a god i can get behind...
gale: i assure you, this is merely the prelude to a far grander vision. elysium's in for something of a shake-up.
all that remains of gale is a thin veneer of the person he used to be. what he presents is a hollow echo of the old gale. he does retain some of his mannerisms and quirks, but he is definitely a lot colder and more condescending. if his personality already changed that drastically after a duration of only 6 months, what will he inevitability turn into when he has eternity at his disposal?
essentially, you are aiding gale in the eradication of himself. eradicating everything about him that made him into the loveable, charismatic, awkward, kind, buoyant person he was. everything about him that he perceived as defective, flawed, and lesser-than. before, his hubris was merely an expression of his own discontentment and low self-worth, but now he is hubris incarnate. all of his worst qualities have been amplified.
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gale: i am ambition incarnate. as indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as mystra herself is from the weave. and word is spreading.
nodecontext: palpable, almost unsettling excitement from him - hint of megalomania
he put his trust in tav, trusting their judgment and relying on them to nudge him in the right direction. after all, they had plenty of opportunities to show him that they are an ally worth following and confiding in. but in the end, the prospect of what he could be, the things he could give them, the enemies he could yet conquer, won over the desire to simply accept him and help him rebuild a life on solid ground. tav denied him the unconditional love he craves most out of their own selfish desires.
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tara: you were looking out for him. i expected better of you.
as i've already mentioned, gale desires nothing more than to be seen, accepted, loved, and valued. having a partner who wholeheartedly supports and believes in him is enough to make him feel content. most importantly - he just wants to live. to enjoy life with everything it has to offer. his ambition can’t be quenched because he hungers still. believing that only by acquiring more power will he finally be enough and reach said acceptance.
we see in his good ending that his own contentment was even able to influence and (temporarily) sate the orb's ever-present hunger:
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gale: [..] or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.
gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.
it is devastating that he doesn't reach the same feeling of fulfillment if he chooses to pursue godhood, and is instead compelled to continuously surpass his own accomplishments. not being granted rest or reprieve.
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gale: i achieved everything we hoped i would, and still i'm not good enough for you?
gale pursuing godhood isn't evidence that he "has been evil all along" or that he "just waited to be unleashed" either. we can't diminish tav's influence in this outcome, they are after all an extension of the player. able to steer every companion toward a path of redemption or to enable them in their worst traits. fandom has already established that by letting astarion ascend you are actively supporting him in becoming the very thing he despises most, putting your own ambitions and idea of what you want him to be above his healing, this is no different.
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tara: the gale i knew wasn't like this. he recognised his mistakes. he was contrite. all he wanted to do was live.
tara: unfortunately, he fell into company that turned his gaze towards foolishness. yes, i mean you.
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player: gale is his own man, tara.
tara: false. he was mine. though now he belongs only to his own pride.
yes, the epilogue cutscene is beautiful and there is something bittersweet and romantic about his love for tav being one of the few emotions that remained a constant throughout the past 6 months. he didn't need to come back for them, but he did cause he loves them still. no matter how warped his definition of love may be now. while it is abundantly clear that tav ranks lower on his priority list than they did before, his commitment remains.
gale fears isolation, hoping to never return to the time when he was hopeless and alone, stuck inside his tower. by heading in this direction he is once again creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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tara: [..] if i pretended you hadn't turned tail on every lesson you set out to learn, i'd have no right to call myself your friend.
morena may as well have already resigned herself to her son’s death. elminster partly blames himself. for his lapse in judgment, as well as being the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place. mourning the kind, bright-eyed boy who cried at the scorched roses in his neighbor's garden. tara won't be here anymore to care and look out for him either. he has lost his oldest and dearest friend, the one who witnessed his downfall from grace and never left his side. who believed him to be the finest mind AND the finest wizard she's ever had the pleasure to know. who was certain that he’d find a way out of any crisis no matter the circumstances. ...and if tav declines his offer to ascend with him? what does he have left?
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gale: yes, i am rather radiant, aren't i?
tara: don't flatter yourself, gale. you've debased yourself in ways i could never have fathomed.
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tara: goodbye gale, i hope the heavens are worth it.
gale’s godhood ending deals with the loss of humanity, the loss of oneself, and everything one holds dear. it is a devastating and bone-chilling narrative. it is a tragedy.
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gale: i hope you don't think less of me. great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. i see that now.
if gale could see himself, he would be horrified at the losses he deemed necessary to get here. he would be horrified at what he’s become.
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mitfloya · 3 months
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞
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pairings. Zayne x gn!reader
wc. 7K (yes, I like to torture myself)
synopsis. He was believed to be devoid of emotions, until you unveils his chilling secret. His hidden obsession with you has ensnared you in his icy sanctuary. You were blind to his fixation until it was too late, and now you find yourself trapped in his clutches, unable to escape.
warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.
a/n. Hello people of the internet! I’m pretty new on this writing community so I hope I bring you guys some good crumbs to munch on! and excuse my horrible grammatical errors, English is not my first language. I may or may not have spend my time throwing up this whole ass detailed (press x to doubt) HC out of my mind, I tend to go overboard with my analysis and writing. Get some snacks and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy making this HC.
p.s. this is a reupload ver. the original of the post is accidently deleted
♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡
Ah…the ice king himself, known for his emotional detachment and seemingly heartless demeanor. His motives and intentions remain shrouded in mystery, as he builds impenetrable walls around himself. Yet, somehow, you managed to slip through those barriers, like a delicate flower pushing through the cracks in concrete, planting the seed of love without his knowledge.
Does he act upon it? Certainly not at first. He ignores it. Pretend that is was merely a sign you were someone he tolerated.
His acts of kindness are always subtle and unexpected. He treats you in a way that evokes certain reactions.
At first, he might seem out of reach. But you never know that he is always there for you. Always observing and studying your responses.
As you both transition into adulthood, he becomes your primary physician, a role that only intensifies his growing obsession with you. He never considered himself capable of falling in love at first sight, but his feelings for you gradually took root. He is always there with you, from childhood and in adulthood. Fate must have bestowed him with great luck to be your guardian, the one who monitors your health and controls your existence.
The time when you both went on your separate ways before you met again, he feels a void, a sense that something is missing. Maybe you meant more than he thought. The loss of you kills him. But does this heavy feeling affect his daily activities? no.
The thought of not knowing about your health and safety gnaws at him, like a splinter lodged in his mind. Have you eaten yet? Did you eat enough? Did you get enough sleep? Did you stumble upon an accident? Just a single scratch of wound on your skin would infuriate him.
You, on the other hand, dismiss it as the instinctual concern of a physician, and your own health condition made it even more difficult for him to let you go. You were far too precious to be released or, worse, left alone and broken.
Even when you’re away on your mission, he always ask about your being and whereabouts. He just wanted to know how you’re doing and it shows how much he cares for you, not monitoring you! That’s ridiculous, right?
However, whenever you were around him, you never felt like you were in control of your own bodily autonomy. Maybe you’re seeing things but have you realize how much you’re changing your lifestyle?
Zayne intelligence is no joke. You were far too naive to look back over your shoulder to notice he is manipulating you. He wants you to be completely dependent on him. But is it really that bad? After all, he was providing you with a healthier lifestyle, not to mention preserving your beauty. Or so it seemed.
Oh, but when you became his, everything changed. He became more open, more loving and caring, the kind that makes you melt to the ground and swallow you whole. Always attentive to your needs and wants, he has no problem with you buying expensive items, the money isn’t his concern. Your happiness is.
His actions become more evident, sometimes you notice it in the way he always makes sure you’re fully geared up and energized for the day, or the way he tries his best to brighten up your day in rainy days.
And when the time came for you to move in together, almost imperceptibly, it felt natural, that’s when he brings the real authenticity of himself, the carnal desire to claim over you starts to show.
He adorned you with the finest fabrics, adorned you with the most exquisite gems and jewelry that accentuated your beauty without overshadowing it. He always gives you the best and never less.
No one would question how many pictures he has of you around the house, as they simply depicted a man deeply in love with his partner…wait, you don’t remember taking this picture..how did he get this picture? 
Caleb gives it to him. As always he has answers to everything, it makes you think he is expecting that kind of question, which is an odd behavior.
Even the windowsill display those seals and trinkets he has given you over the years, customized to your liking.
You saw it as a preservation of memories and the time he had spent with you, when it’s clearly a growing sign of obsession with the abundance of things of your own possessions, or things that reminded him of you were around the house, to the dark corners of his secret room you were unaware of. 
You don’t realize you were brainwashed, did you? Or maybe because he is telling the truth from the start, he loves you very much and his actions serve as undeniable proof!
Until you try to resist or argue with him. It would be best for you to stay obedient and let him lead, he is the man in the relationship, you are his good girl, right? He never wants to hurt you, he is doing it for the better sake of you.
You learned your lesson when you got your first punishment. Each mistake or letdown adds a droplet, gradually increasing the intensity. When the glass finally overflows, it serves as a stark warning to never hurt or disappoint him.
Your life revolves around him. You want to buy groceries? Wait until he finish work. You want to go to the park? Let’s go together and don’t forget your coat, he doesn’t want you to get cold. You want to have some time alone outside? Sure.
Ah, the innocence of those early stages of dating, when the idea of tracking your partner's whereabouts seemed endearing. Little did you know that innocent app you stumbled upon on a social media platform would become the chains that bind you. In the beginning, it seemed like a cute way to track the distance between you and your partner.
That app, like a digital spider's web, silently weaves its threads around your every move. From the moment you installed it, it became his watchful eye, tracking your every step, monitoring your every move.
How naive and compliant you are, unknowingly making it easier for him to watch over you. 
He doesn’t react much when a guy approaches you, no one will be brave enough, because you will always stay glued to his side. He often uses his sharp tongue to highlight their flaws and insecurities. Give them a judgmental stare at the guy as if he was nothing and brings nothing good in life like a mosquito.
Resorting to violence or criminal acts were never his first choice to get rid of those pesky nuisances, his jealousy always remains hidden and possibly close to nonexistent.
Because he knows, you will always comes running back to him. Even if you manage to slip from his grasp, he holds the power to reclaim you, by any means necessary. In dire circumstances, he does not hesitate to resort to violence, to eliminate anyone who dares to steal you away. He doesn't care if he has to hurt you or isolate you, nobody could ever love you like he did. 
Once you are married and start a family together, your life will be forever intertwined with his. That's the end of you or maybe a better version of you that you never envisioned or hoped for, nevertheless it was all because of your love for Zayne that you willingly let him take control, it’s the best life you could ever live in, right?
You will never leave out of his sight forever.
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© 2024 mitfloya — all rights reserved. kindly refrain from altering, translating, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.
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vintagecandy · 1 year
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My personal reimagining of Jervis Tetch, AKA: The Mad Hatter.
So I noticed that it is really common for Gotham rogues-- but almost especially Jervis Tetch-- to get redrawn and redesigned! Which I just thought was such a fun exercise, so because I'm me and predictable my brain immediately leaped at the chance to imagine my own Jervis.... set in the 1920s. Now, the drastically different time period causes a lot of interesting dynamics. For one, I'm fairly certain Jervis Tetch's character originates from a time period of comics where people wore a lot more hats, so setting him in the past is very fitting for him. It makes a lot more sense for him to literally be an artisan hat manufacturer, as in a real hatter. BUT what's interesting is that hand made "hatter" style hats were actually beginning to fade out of favor, and one of the reasons is actually partially because there was a growing moralizing around the hatting industry's overhunting of birds for their decorative feathers, and so Jervis ( as you can see ) having this big, real peacock bird feather on his hat is sort of a defiance, a subtle expression of his bad intent. And I imagine his introduction to crime will be marked with the sudden unprompted rise of vintage style hats "regaining popularity". He's very much still a hypnotist, a master illusionist, and a scientific genius, and I was thinking- to shake things up- the hat is actually what drove him insane. Originally the hat band was created to counteract nerve damage he developed from mercury poisoning some years ago, but ended up also giving him heightened focus and an incurable bout of severe insanity. Then he later repurposed it for mind control. What insanity? Ok, look at the face I drew for him. This was on accident, but I've been looking at his face...... and I cannot shake the feeling he's a dad. Like, he has peak "wacky inventor father" energy in his face, but more sickly and evil. So I was thinking.... what if for this Jervis instead of his usual romantic Alice fixation... Alice was instead his daughter. And he loved having pretend tea parties with her, acting as the hatter. Some point after he put on the hat, his behavior was a little off but not worrying yet, but he lets his daughter wander off too far in this dangerous city and he just... never sees her again. He calls the police, they're kinda apathetic- probably corrupt tbh, he puts up posters-- nothing, she's just gone. Probably dead the more time passes. A senseless tragedy in a nonsense world. This breaks his brain! And so he decides he's going to take over all of Gotham and turn it into a game of Wonderland, part out of spite, and mostly out of total denial that his daughter is gone no matter how many years pass, in hopes that the little lost girl will find her way back to him or even that more puppets means more help finding her. But with time his insanity becomes so severe he doesn't even remember Alice was his daughter and not literally the book Alice, but he is slightly more lucid when without the hat. However, he feels sick and anxious when without it.
But as it goes in Gotham, by the time they consider you Arkham levels of insane, incurably so-- a 1920s insane asylum mind you! Which practically makes him more ill-- you sort of have no choice but to stay in the crime life forever. Which is where the tommy guns come in.
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taintandviolent · 2 months
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Devil's Favours - James March x Reader
summary & wordcount: 4.9K! originally chosen as the party favour for James' Devil's Night celebration, reader is quickly snatched away by James March, who would rather have his own fun with her than let the others kill her.
w a r n i n g s: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! dark fic, dub-con, slight non-con, conflicted reader, sexual confusion, mild gore & blood, graphic descriptions, violence, aggression, bodily fluids, mentions of other real serial killers, smut, rough sex,overstimulation, body worship (reader with greek goddess body type), murder, reader death.
a/n: sorry for this, I'm mentally unwell. not beta read, so if it's horrid and clunky, I'm sorry!!! also, I think this is the last taglist I'll be doing, RIP. It's just such a pain in the rear end, and half the time, it doesn't even work.
full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /
After a long day of travelling, sleep was the only thing on your mind. That said, you were in desperate need of a bath, something relaxing. This was, afterall, a vacation. You twisted the ceramic knob on the hot water, and stuck your hand under it. With a hiss, you withdrew your hand – usually, water took a minute to reach temperature. This one? Scalding hot within a few seconds. Dangerously so. You twisted the knob on the cold side, evening them out until they’d reached a less skin-melting combination, and shed your clothes. You’d only been in there for thirty minutes or so before someone began rapping their knuckles against your door. Persistently. Very persistently.
“Just a minute!” you called from the bathroom, hoping your voice travelled. You reached for one of the towels – meticulously embroidered with the hotel’s logo – and wrapped it hurriedly around your torso. “Hang on!” 
Quickly rummaging around in your suitcase and swearing under your breath that you had packed more, you searched for something to wear. Feeling pressured and running out of time, you settled on a cream coloured silk slip. Hardly modest with your plenteous figure, but the knocking continued and that seemed more important than decency. You hurried to the door, yanking it open with an air of annoyance. The vexation melted away when you were met with a man who looked more like he belonged on a silver screen than he did standing in front of you.
“Good evening.” He said, dipping his head down in a courteous display.
“…Can I help you?”
His lips stayed together, but curved into a subtle smirk. Though it was an unintentional pick; he’d chosen well; your delectable form was as if it was carved by Gods themselves. The look in your eyes told him that you were so alive, so vivacious that any bloodshed that would happen would be akin to art. His eyes were immediately lost on you, exploring your body and face with a fervid fascination. Feeling exposed, you pulled at the silken straps, bringing the neckline of the nightgown higher up on your body. Your cleavage protested, the fabric puckering across the voluminosity of your breasts. 
All this time, he’d been silent, and you arched an expectant brow, wondering just what it was that you were to help him with. This man was… peculiar. From his fancy dressage to the articulate, over-pronounced way he spoke, his idiosyncrasies both alarmed and fascinated you. 
“Indeed,” he affirmed. He’d made his decision; you were the one for the night. And he’d have you, whether you came willingly or not.
“My name is James March — I’m the owner of this impressive hotel in which you now stand.” He paused, expectantly as if that was enough for you to throw your arms up and consent to whatever he was asking. When you didn’t, he added: “I need you to come with me. Urgently.”
You squinted, scanning his motivations. A warm, gentle smile stretched across his lips, framed by his pencil thin mustache. His hand rose, fingers uncurling in front of you. There was something unnervingly come-hither about his gaze. Would he have introduced himself with malicious intentions? Surely not — that could lead to identifying him later on. But he could’ve given you a fake name, perhaps…
Unable to resist his passé seduction and against (likely) better judgement, your hand floated up into his, resting delicately against his palm. His fingers closed around yours, lingering a moment before guiding you out of your room, allowing the heavy door to swing shut behind you. He began leading you briskly down the hallway.
“I forgot my key, wait I –” 
“Worry not, my dear. We’ll have another made for you, should you need it.” 
Should I need it? You thought. Why wouldn’t I need it? Of course I’ll need my key, I’m walking down the hallway in nothing but a nightgown. 
You trodded barefoot down the halls, listening to the sounds as you passed them. The hotel, you noticed, creaked and breathed with a life of its own. Whether the rooms were occupied wasn’t known, but they sounded as if they were.  
As soon as you two got to a door, only a few down from your own, he reached for the handle and instantly, as soon as he did; something felt wrong. Something felt… sinister and the feeling took over like a gelatinous sludge. You tried to yank your hand away but James sternly jerked you the opposite way — back towards him. With a throaty growl, he wrapped both arms around your torso, holding you fast in a steel grip so that try as you might, you couldn’t dislodge yourself from his grasp. His strength proved too much for your feeble, sleepy muscles.
After shouldering the door open, James carried you inside. In a moment of panicked clarity, you tried to peek around and identify anything you could. The stern way that his hand was plastered on your forehead, holding it against his shoulder, you could really only see the ornate ceiling above you.
You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that burned at the corners of your eyes. This was it. You’d gone this far in life without being mugged, raped, or killed… today was the day it would change. Your track record would end. Abruptly. Terrifyingly. Your chest shuddered with an uneven, hysterical breath. At least he was handsome. No, shut up. That’s not the kind of thought you want to be thinking. 
Suddenly, your body dropped forward and you were spun around harshly, his grip still tight on the fleshy meat of your arms. Then, as though he was a lover and not your soon-to-be-murderer, he eased your back against a wooden chair with one hand, delicately, suddenly concerned with hurting you, like you were some kind of easily-bruised fruit.
“Good girl, sit there.”
At his praising words, your core twinged, tightening. No, no. Stop it. Clenching your teeth, you quashed the thought before it went any further.
His right hand snatched something from a nearby table before holding it proudly, stretching it out for you to see; rope. Unconsciously, your head began shaking back and forth. As the realisation sunk in, your heart rate picked up, thudding against your ribcage.
“N-no, no… no please.”
With the rope still in hand, James got to one knee in a familiar pose. His lightless eyes floated up to yours, staring into them deeply. Now in front of you, his cock twitched within his trousers, a carnal instinct tugging like an incessant child. He brushed the pads of his fingers along the smooth curves of your knees, your calves, your ankles… 
Damn. You – obviously – were a woman with needs, so his feather-light touch awoke something deep within your core again. This time though, it didn’t take you reversing the arousal. The shiny tip of his shoe knocked your feet apart, lining them up with the legs of the chair. She clenched harder.
“What are you doing?” You asked, tensely. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He paused to answer, straightening up. “Securing you, my dear. A struggle is inevitable.”
“What!? Inevitable for what?!”
He didn’t answer. Hastily working, his large but nimble hands wrapped the rope around the smallest part of your ankles, knotting the rope against the chair. Your wrists came next, and those were tied much tighter; the fibres of the rope ground against your soft skin, already causing a burning friction.
With a sudden, powerful pull at the bindings, testing their security, James was finished. He was confident in his knotting, you wouldn’t get away. Humming to himself, he dragged the chair through an archway, into another, much larger room. You were facing a table – it was ornately set with a large contraption in the middle. You recognised it as an absinthe fountain, the bright green liquid in the container seemed to glow. You didn’t want to be a part of whatever this was, even as attractive as that man was.
“Please,” you begged. “Please, I just… I want to go back to my room. Let me go.”
“Let you go?” James echoed in a mockingly high tone. He seemed offended that you’d even desire such a thing. It was a pleasure — a privilege — to be invited to his dinners. “No…. You’re staying with me. Right here.”
He pat your thigh  before moving to the head of the table. For the first time since you’d been brought in, you took a moment to look around, to take in your surroundings instead of him. Immediately, you whimpered in disbelief — met with such a visual that you almost immediately thought you were hallucinating. You blinked away the tears and sniffed, pressing your lips tightly together. 
It was truly bone-chilling to see all of the worst eyes on you. The eyes that had seen the most foul crimes and atrocities in human history were now looking at you; the bound beauty with her sweat-soaked strands of hair stuck to your forehead and fear in your eyes. John Wayne Gacy, Richard Ramirez, Jeffrey Dahmer….
“She’s shakin’ like a god damn leaf!” Aileen Wuornos howled, before finishing off the rest of her beer. She slammed it on the table, the clatter made you jump. She doesn’t want me, you thought. I’m not her enemy. Still, you knew that you’d been sat at a table full of people — true monsters — who even if they didn’t want to kill you, they’d take great pleasure in watching you writhe in agony as the others stole your last breath from your lungs.
Though they were all equally terrifying, you were most horrified by Richard. He sat directly next to James, picking absently at his nails. His sunken, snake eyes followed every move you made; watching you with a hunger that made your skin crawl. Considering the circumstances, it was laughable to say that one made you feel unsafer than the others — but he did. Logically, how he preyed upon women must’ve played into your distaste for him. He held your gaze, peering into your thoughts with a vicious lack of consent, as he behaved with every woman he came in contact with. Finally, he spoke.
“I’ve waited long enough, Jimmy — can we kill her?” He said, sucking something out of his rotting teeth. He made a move as though he was going to get up.
You snapped your head to James, brows knit together in pleading. The visual surprised you. He, like the rest of the dinner party, had been staring at you, but instead of the feral, blood hungry gaze you expected, his eyes had gone glassy. He sucked his cheeks in, deep in thought. Beneath the dark fabric of his dress pants, heat blanketed his groin. You captivated him; the way your precious little eyes flitted back and forth in terror like a deer, the way your pulse thrummed in your neck, beating like a drum. He wanted you for his own — and only his own. Keeping his motives hidden, James stood up, smoothing out the fabric of his suit jacket. 
“No,” he crooned. “No, we can’t. I’m afraid I’ve had a change of heart… this one… belongs to me.”
You jerked your head in confusion, while grumbles of disappointment bounced off the walls. Ramirez said something sickening and Gacy let out a horrible, guttural chuckle. You strained against the rope, somehow trying to put more distance between you and them. James sliced his hand through the air to silence them both.
“Miss Wuornos,” he abruptly purred. “Go find us a dashing young man keen to join our party!”
“Ohohoh…. Lil’ ol’ me? Find a man? I’m gonna’ be frolickin’ in the fuckin’ daisy fields with this one. Be back!”
“Pl-please.” You begged. Your lips parted, allowing desperate promises to fall from between them. You wouldn’t tell anyone, you’d never come back here, you wouldn’t remember anything, you promised, you would never speak a word of this to anyone… You looked to James, who regarded you affectionately, but patronisingly, his lower lip jutted out in a faux-pout. He’d heard all this before, and it was of no concern to him. He’d made up his mind. It was his god damned birthday and he was going to have you all to himself.
Your begging fell on seemingly deaf ears, nobody bothered to entertain you. Your teary, burning eyes flitted to Ramirez, who was smiling his ugly, decaying smile at you, leaning forward in his seat. “I dunno’, she promises, Jimmy… maybe we should let her go.”
You shivered, grinding your wrists against the rope. Anger blanketed you. “Fuck off, weirdo.”
“Who you callin’ weirdo, bitch?”
“YOU!” You barked, straining. “I can smell your rancid breath from here. Had to kill all those women just because none of them would ever come within ten fucking feet of you!”
“Now, now… manners. She’s a lively one, isn’t she?” His mouth bent in a proud smirk, James looked to Richard, who was still bristling from the comment. He really wanted to kill you. Delighted at the fact that James had seemingly given you immunity, you wiggled happily in your chair, fighting the urge to stick your tongue out. You didn’t want to test him, though, and so you remained silent, watching instead. 
Silence was broken as the door opened. With a little thrashing, almost as desperate as your own had been, Aileen shoved a man — couldn’t have been more than 30 — inside. It didn’t take her long to find someone. In fact, it was like she opened the door, spotted him meandering by and dragged him back inside.
The guy noticed you first. Second, he noticed that you were tied to the chair so tightly that red marks on your wrists and ankles had begun to develop. Thirdly, he noticed the others, his eyes drifting slowly and visibly disturbed by who sat at the table. 
“Woah… what the fuck is this?” He asked.
“A good fuckin’ time is what it is.” One of them said. You didn’t care which. Blisteringly hot tears streamed down your face, stinging your cheeks. What were the stages of grief? You felt like you were cycling through them in rapid succession.
“Fucking let me go!” You howled, thrashing your torso back and forth, which did little to relieve anything. With a distressed expression plastered upon his face, the guy looked from you to the other guests and back, before nervously putting his hands up, taking one step back towards the door. “Hey, is she okay?”
“N—!“ James was suddenly behind you, cupping his hand over your mouth, pressing the tips of his fingers hard into your cheek flesh. His lips moved quickly, whispering hotly into your ear. “Hush now, don’t spoil the surprise for him. Let him find out on his own.”
“She’s fine, the hors d’oeuvres didn’t agree with her.” Aileen barked, towing the guy towards the table. She shoved him down into the only unoccupied seat.
“Dinner… is served.” James said. 
In unison, they all stood up. The sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in your head. Like syncronised swimmers, they all descended upon him, armed with whatever weapon they’d chosen. You hadn’t known the guy, but he had enough sympathy for you to make you cry at what was happening to him. He’d had a life, family… feelings. None of which mattered to him anymore, or perhaps that’s exactly what he was thinking about. Perhaps your entire life really did flash before your eyes before you died. 
You let out a scream that burned on its way out. It ached and tore and ripped its way up your windpipe as the shrill, bloodcurdling sound filled the room. It was louder than his, and louder than the sounds that were currently coming from the gaping, gargling hole in his throat.
Gacy moved from his side, allowing you a brief glimpse. Torn flesh hung from his shoulders and blood had almost completely covered the front of his body. You closed your eyes and turned your head away, rolling your lips inward and biting down. It was fucked up, and you weren't going to absorb any more of it.
“Sweet dreams, my little pet.” James said, in front of you. You turned your head towards the sound, but were met with blackness. 
A dull throbbing on the side of your head was what eventually pulled you awake, forcing your cinder-block weighted lids to peel apart. You looked around; an odd, minimally decorated room. Dark. Your head wobbled as you turned it left, then right, met with the same visual — your arms suspended high above your head, and rope again, at your wrists. You licked your lips and tasted metal. In your blurred vision, you noticed red flecked along your breasts. The ache on the side of your head was more than just an ache, it seemed.
Your consciousness ebbed, fading in and out. Sleep was comforting, the idea of it cradling you in its arms like a baby. You wanted so badly to sleep… just for a moment. Somewhere inside, you heard authoritative voices, advising against sleep. Concussions… sleep… sleep is bad… keep the individual conscious. And so you fought against the cool, towering shadow, turning your head away from nothing in particular. You couldn’t hear anything outside of your own laboured breathing, and the creak of the rope every time you decided to move. Nothing. Not even the muted voices of the monsters. 
Time meant nothing, you lost track of how long you’d been hanging there when you’d finally heard the creak of a heavy door. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly before wrenching them open. You weren’t sure if the crushing weight you felt was the looming weight of death as it shrouded you, or merely the physical strain of your body being suspended for hours. You knew people could eventually die from suspension. Their lungs caved in or something. The tips of your toes barely touched the floor, your big toe grazing the cold, concrete floor every time your body swayed softly.
With your head hanging between your shoulders, your muscles quivered as you lifted it, just in time to see the door in front of you shut. James, standing in front of it, reached for a black leather apron that hung on a hook. Before slipping it over his head, he flashed you a charming smile, pleased to see that you hadn’t expired yet. Reaching behind him to tie it around his waist, he approached you. The light from the wall sconces reflected against the fabric dully.
“Ah, there you are.” He crooned. 
You intended a scream, but could do nothing but whimper. You swallowed repeatedly, a feeble attempt to wet your dried out throat. James drug a single finger along your soft jawline, trailing it down your neck, and along your collarbone. You were drenched in sweat, streaks of it descending your face and neck.
The sudden ferocity in which he gripped your face made it sting, his thumb and forefinger digging into the bone of your jaw. He quirked a brow. You opened your mouth and although your throat was already raw, you finally screamed. You screamed again, angrily, and held his cold, black gaze. Your ragged shrieks filled the room over and over again as you tried, desperately, to wrench your hands free from the ropes.
Regrettable, James thought as his soulless eyes hungrily took in your form as it quivered and thrashed around. You were built like a Greek goddess, soft curves in all the right places, begging to be touched, worshipped.
“Aaaah,” He exhaled, frustratedly.  “You’re almost too pretty to kill.”
“Then — DON’T! Fucking let me GO! AaaarhhhH!” You yanked at the ropes again, thrashing around until a deep pain in your shoulder began to burn. You cried out, letting your body go slack. 
With a deep breath, you mustered up all your strength again, finding every drop of it within your tired body, and leaned forward to scream directly in his face. The result? He was wholly unphased by your screams. If anything, it seemed like he enjoyed them. Each one sounded a little more desperate than the last, and it only fuelled him further.
You decide to try a new, last-ditch tactic. Sore mouth contorting into a scowl, you gathered a mouthful of saliva and blood, hot and irony on your tongue and lunged forward, spitting it at him. The glob hit him square in the face, dripping slowly down towards his jaw.
“What, is it hard to focus?” You croaked. Your words were slurred, messy with the pain of the head wound.  “Didn’t think you’d want to fuck me as bad as you do, huh?”
James’ dark eyes narrowed, the muscles underneath twitching faintly. He had in fact picked you, and therefore had to accept all of your fiery little quips as they came – but that one… that one had caught him off guard. 
“You…” You narrowed your eyes, the fibres of the rope squeaking as you leaned towards him, your lips inches from his face. “…want to fuck me so bad, you can’t think. Look at you. You think your apron hides it?”
With brows raised, James glanced at his groin. Had he really been betrayed by his own body, so early on? Though he felt the warmth and stiffness increasing between his legs, there was no visual indication. James calmly brought his hand to his face, collecting the bloodied spit on his fingertips. With a reticent gaze, he brought them down between your legs, harshly knuckling the nightgown out of the way.
He smeared them roughly on your cunt. Your own fluids. The ones that you had just spit at him. Not only that, but he proceeded to tease your sensitive nerves with his fingers, pulling a confused gasp from your throat. Part of you had been bluffing, you weren’t entirely sure that he had wanted you —
James pulled back an inch to look at you again. Aside from your luscious body, your complexion was mottled with exhaustion, lips dry with fear, hair frazzled and bloody on one side. To him, it was a horrific sculpture of divinity. One that he had created in such little time with such little effort. The perfect, ample curves of your breasts were dotted with crimson, having dripped from the gash on your head. They jiggled delicately with each desolate shake you gave.
With his free hand, he took hold of your round, plush hips, his thumb working the softness like dough. He swung you towards him, pressing the pillowy tops of your thighs to his groin. Quickly, he identified a growing obsession with your body.
He loved it. All of it. In fact, he hadn’t seen a body as marvellously breathtaking as yours since his wife’s. Of course, it had been many years since he’d seen hers in any such manner, so the flames that licked at his desire were deprived, hungry ones. His mouth found yours, lips crushing against yours. His tongue, hot and strong, slipped in and beckoned yours to engage in an erotic dance.
He pulled your body closer, pressing it tightly against his. Though constricted by his trousers, you felt the bulging heat beneath his apron, and rubbed your thigh against it, teasing him. He groaned deeply in response, bucking his hips against you to force friction. After a few moments, James broke the kiss, panting heavily over your tender, swollen lips.
“Pl-please… don’t kill me… please…”
The back of his hand whipped across your mouth, hitting you so hard that the world sparkled when you opened your eyes again. Your face burned with the contact.
“Enough of that now! Say it again, and I’ll do just that!”
The harshness in his voice stunned you. Up until that point, he’d been using his syrupy, serenading voice — the one he had used to charm you into coming with him. Now, he bellowed, an unexpected violence. Silence hung heavy between you as he waited, baited you to beg for life once more. You didn’t speak again, but your sobs continued. 
Finally, his hand dropped between your legs again. Your clit ached, burned with the way his fingers fondled it, but he didn’t stop. Your poor, exhausted body trembled beneath his touch, doing all it could to express arousal. Salty droplets streamed from your hairline into your eyes, stinging as they absorbed.
“Would you rather die?” he asked, suddenly. 
“Wh-what? N-no… I d-don’t want to die…”
“That’s not what I meant, my little ember. I meant… would you rather die than be pleasured? I, of course, can arrange that.”  
You hesitated a moment, but finally, shook your head. 
At this thoughtful confession, James angled forward, plunging a single finger inside of you, past the knuckle. The digit wiggled inside of you briefly, before sliding back out slowly. He held it up for you both to see. “Oh,” he growled.  
His finger was generously coated in clear slick. Your body had betrayed you. 
Wordlessly, he untied the apron, tossing it carelessly to the side – it hit the floor with a heavy flop. Then, those same nimble fingers began unbuttoning and unzipping, until they gripped his rigidness, pumping it slowly for further stimulation. His chest heaved with wanton, desiring breaths as he stared at you, hanging there, with your warm, ample body for his taking. James lined his dick up with your leaking slit, and pulled you harshly onto his cock, showing no mercy for how exhausted your body was. 
Your cunt swallowed his cock whole, hungrily and desperately. His head fell back between his shoulders, a throaty groan coming from his open mouth. He began thrusting, slow at first. The ease of thrusting fascinated him; your body hung limp on the ropes and all James had to do was tug you forward, tug you in the direction he wanted you to go. 
“You know, I’ve never taken a woman like this before - suspended in the air,” he said, breathily. “Exquisite.” 
You mewled in response, snot dripping from your nose. 
Soon, the room was filled with wet, slick thrusting and the thudding sound of his torso as it met yours. You came repeatedly, coating his thick, pale cock in fluids you didn’t even know your body could make. At one point, during a particularly vicious thrusting, a warm, watery liquid splashed down over your thighs. You screamed like he was killing you, though he felt better than any man you’d ever been with, pleasuring you in ways that left you feeling breathless.
Still, your body persisted with its aches. So far, you’d been successful in appealing to his sexual nature, and decided to try again.
“….please…. Let me down… I’ll… d-do anything you wa—
Suddenly, he backed up, pulling the head from your cunt with a slick pop. You panted; fragile, pitiful breaths, barely enough energy to lift your gaze. With his rigid cock bouncing in front of him, James untied your hands, allowing your heavy, enervated body to fall into his arms. You couldn’t help but cry into his shoulder as he carried you to some sort of surface, laying you carefully down atop it. Some streak of mercy had captured him, and you mouthed words of gratitude. Your entire body buzzed with relief, your muscles aching in a funny, tingling way.
James wasted no time in fucking you again; the tip was nearly scarlet, hungry for release. His hand compressed on your soft stomach, pressing down into it to increase the pressure of his cock as it drove deeper and deeper inside of you.
“You know how this ends, my dear.” When he spoke, it sounded far away. But you did. You knew. There was never any end to this besides the one that you’d envisioned fearfully. He leaned to the side, retrieving a small, but very, very sharp blade from a nearby metal table. You watched numbly as James lifted the knife above your neck.
His hips pumped rhythmically, bringing you both closer to the fiery edge of ecstasy. Pulsing veins massaging your silklike insides, and another orgasm galloped towards you. Your body quivered, cold sweats taking over. 
James whipped the knife across your perfectly warm neck, and instinctively, your hands went to the laceration. Bright crimson gushed out from the spaces between your fingers, and you felt a gushy warmth press against your digits. The inner workings of your throat, you realized. The gore of your own body, pressing back against you in its heat. James laid one hand over yours, seemingly just to feel the blood as it spurted. With a deep, guttural moan, his cock twitched inside you just before it released, coating your insides.
She gasped, a wet gurgle. The light left her eyes, gradually, but beautifully. The pulses of blood eventually ebbed to a dull trickle. As his thrusts slowed, he expelled a long sigh – killing both excited him and depressed him. On one hand; it brought exhilaration, delight and sheer unadulterated arousal. On the other however, you only truly got to do it once. Certainly, you could kill a ghost a million times over, but the effect wasn’t the same.
For a moment, James’ expression contorted into one of regret; when you returned in your new spectral form, you’d likely not want to spend time with him. Yet another woman who loathed his presence roaming the hallways, avoiding him. But perhaps, he still wouldn’t mind having you stuck with him for all eternity, if only to gaze upon your perfect form whenever you’d let him. With matching wounds, at that. A true romantic.
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t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @garykingz / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @babygorewhore / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randominstake / @throwinginmythai / @slvt4jamesmarch / @poltoreveur / @feefymo / @evpeters87 / @lacucarachapisser / @stveharringtn / @fear-is-truth
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viv-hollande · 5 months
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Ok, so this is a post that I should have made sooner. I've been somewhat out of the loop with regards to current events and the state of discourse on this website courtesy of a pretty serious depressive episode from which I am only just now recovering. As I have emerged from this state I have been pushed towards a conclusion about this website and the state of discussion around the ongoing Israel-Gaza War that I had thus far avoided due in part to my barely possessing the energy to keep myself alive and due in part to my denial that the conclusion could be true. But that denial can no longer hold.
It has become openly apparent that the pro-Palestinian camp on this website has become popularly infused with a degree of blatant, aggressive antisemitism that I, in my naivety thought impossible in the days just after October 7. I am trying to avoid turning this into a mea culpa because that would be unproductive and feel self-serving, but I do feel an obligation to admit that I disregarded prescient warnings from Jewish users whose warnings I dismissed as over-blowing a problem that I felt was real, but more limited in scope than they made out.
I'm neither an idiot nor am I ignorant. I am well aware of the long history of antisemitism in leftist politics and in the Palestinian Liberation movement. Back at the beginning of this crisis I was prepared to see the occasional instance of antisemites using the inevitable, overwhelming Israeli retaliation as an excuse to air their hateful politics. I was prepared to see both the well-meaning but ignorant and the malicious alike sharing tweets from antisemitic pro-Palestine accounts, spreading and normalizing low-grade, subtle antisemitism. Make no mistake, this should have been condemned. Antisemitism, like all bigotries, has no 'safe' level. There is no background level of antisemitism that society should just accept as normal. But I was more focused on the inevitable cacophony of suffering that Israel would almost certainly begin meting out, and so I failed to act.
The fatal blow to my denial was the increasing prevalence of the use of quotation marks around the word "Israel" and "Israeli". The first few times I saw this, I didn't really understand what it meant. Still laboring under the belief that antisemitism was a manageable problem on the left, I was certain that most of the users on this site, well-intentioned, goodhearted, critically thinking people that they were, would have recognized and called out even disguised antisemitism before it took over a good 20-40% of all posts about the conflict. I was a damn naive fool. For those, like past me, who have not cottoned on to the meaning of the quotation marks, they have become a way to express the denial of the legitimacy or even existence of, individually or all together, the State of Israel, the Israeli people, or the right of either Jews or Israelis to identify as Israelis.
CONGRATULATIONS TUMBLR! You have successfully revived from depths of 4chan neo-Nazi boards the (((fucking echoes))).
Are you serious? Are you fuckers for real? This, right here, encapsulates the pitch-black absurdity of this whole situation and why I remained in denial for so long. Never, in a million years, would I imagine that the proudly pro-Social Justice, anti-fascist, 100% Certified SAFE-SPACE(tm) website would end up using the same language as the goddamn Nazis on 4chan. I thought this website was smarter than that. But noooo, it turns out that I was a damn naive fool.
This was where the post was originally going to end. I say my piece, hope to change a few minds, and commit myself to actually fighting antisemitism instead of sitting back and dismissing the problem. But I figure, while I'm here and while I still have the driving forces of anger and guilt pushing me along, I may as well put pen to paper and spew forth my other thoughts on the ongoing crisis. I am thus compiling a much longer post detailing my thoughts on some aspects of the current situation. [EDITED ~1:25 AM GMT, 5 Dec 2023: add link to finished post] That post will definitely be long, probably be angry, possibly wrong on some aspect of fact, and will absolutely be pretentious, preachy, self-righteous and hubristic to a positively Hellenistic degree. Brief, non-comprehensive summary so you can decide whether or not get mad at me ahead of time;
Israel does apartheid, or near enough for government work.
Israel is definitely conducting a campaign of forced displacement, possibly amounting to ethnic cleansing, but I remain unconvinced of the claim of genocide.
Hamas may or may not be a anti-colonialist revolutionary group, but it definitely is an antisemitic terrorist organization with genocidal aspirations and actively supporting them is morally indefensible. Yes, this includes the Al-Qassam Brigades.
Anti-colonial and other revolutionary movements do in fact have fundamental moral obligations and suffering oppression does not give you carte blanche to do terrorism, even when an oppressor attempts to render peaceful opposition impossible. There is a middle ground between peaceful marching and 850+ dead civilians; aim for that.
The left is just as prone to unhinged conspiracism as the right.
Verify your sources, for fuck's sake.
Use nuance. It won't kill you.
There's more, but it's a little difficult to summarize an unfinished post. If you want to argue with any of these points, go ahead, just keep in mind that a longer, more comprehensive post is in the works that might have the answer to your argument/complaint/insult/intellectual disagreement. If that post isn't up by midnight GMT on Friday, assume I forgot about it and argue away. In conclusion, antisemitism is bad, apartheid is also bad, Tumblr is a hellsite (derogatory), "From the river to the sea" is, in fact, antisemitic, seriously, stop saying it, take Jews seriously when they warn you about antisemitism instead of writing them off like a damn naive fool, and last but not least, free Palestine.
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squidthoughts · 8 months
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why doesn't shin leave?
that's the question, right? there are secondary ones, of course – why didn't she kill sabine/was she sandbagging their duel/did she intentionally perform a nonfatal stabbing/was she sent there to interact with sabine at all, or just for the map.... but really, my question at the end of ep1 was:
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why is she waiting here at all?
"we've been looking for this," shin says, and that's what, an accusation? conversation-starter? she's here to talk? maybe, okay – except she's actively thieving, so what can she be expecting by sticking around but a fight? so she secures the map and she waits for sabine. to fight her. but the question is still why and in my unqualified opinion i think the answer is found back here:
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"ahsoka tano's former apprentice is on lothal."
what do we know about baylan? he was a jedi, once. he witnessed the purge of his order and adapted to a life of survival – he maintains certain jedi traditions, he passes these traditions to his padawan: the braid, the traditional construction of the lightsaber, if not the crystal inside (standing mystery, though). he is nostalgic but not melancholy, connected perhaps to the more elegant and noble history of the jedi but evidently strongly opposed to assuming that title at present.
what do we know about shin? well...almost nothing. except that when baylan speaks, shin listens. she obeys unquestioningly. when morgan speaks, shin watches baylan. they are close; there is mutual trust, though clearly more dependency on shin's side. and she is likely – though not certainly – born after order 66.
i'm confident answers will be forthcoming about shin's past, but in the meantime, working with the (very!!) little we have, assuming the subtle intricacies of the shot direction and ivanna's acting are all intentional, and with the full disclaimer that im brainrotty for wolfwren......i want to answer my original question.
shin has never seen another apprentice before. beyond baylan and inquisitors (apparently), she has probably never seen another lightsaber-wielder before. and yet – her master, while scorning the label of jedi, is steeped in jedi history. he seems to be training her according to some traditional jedi principles (though...what with the mass-murder and the mercenary work, of course we don't yet know the extent of those principles), and it would follow that he would have imparted the history of the jedi as well.
baylan skoll is not a jedi. but ahsoka tano is. or, was. but the antagonist squad refers to her as a jedi, so from shin's perspective it's not just "ahsoka tano's apprentice" on lothal. she is being told there is a real, live jedi apprentice on lothal.
and the jedi are extinct.
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we're into the rampant speculation part of the meta now, because what is shin thinking in this moment?
there's a green lightsaber before her – a jedi apprentice before her – or at least the former-apprentice-of-a-jedi, but shin is the apprentice-of-a-former-jedi, and at some point the semantics get in the way of the exhilaration. this is probably (again, this whole thing could get disproven in the next episode or something) the first lightsaber battle shin has ever had with someone who might actually kill her. (i assume baylan wouldn't engage in prolicide while sparring.)
this is, i think, shin at her most excited. on the one hand – it's another apprentice! it's another member of an order (her order??) that was supposed to be wiped out! this is proof of concept maybe, that shin isn't so alone! and on the other hand – this is a test, no? like, the first real test of shin's full abilities, assuming she's never dueled before? again, i wish we knew more about her motivations, but it stands to reason a padawan that powerful and devoted would constantly be looking for ways to both prove and improve herself, right?
and then. sabine. sucks.
she's sloppy and weak and doesn't use the force. she's untrained and undisciplined and slow and gets tired too quickly.
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shin starts blocking with one hand. she starts sidestepping sabine's wild swings. there's no way she's is trying to kill her at this point; shin is playing with her food.
i just...think she's disappointed?? like, she was probably expecting so much more from a proper jedi's apprentice, and i think we'd need more information about her to extrapolate what exactly she wants in this scene, but i'd be willing to bet it wasn't this sub-par, former-apprentice bitch-ass fight. (love to sabine but like. she did get her clock cleaned. obviously.)
regardless, i am excited to see how this experience influences the forestfight™ we know is on the way...and also if sabine, like, feels...anything....about being skewered like a county fair corn dog?? i mean trauma or anger or fear or drive or?? bc we know shin wasn't actually trying to kill her, (this is my official stance and im sticking to it) but sabine sure doesn't!!
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ageravena · 2 months
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I don't care that the show ended a year ago, and I sure don't care that this is her season 1 design baby I love Lilith and if I want to draw her, then I'm gonna do that 😍
(The white pupil was intentional! I thought it would look cool and make her look less human XP)
Omg I just realised I can save so much more space by adding a "read more" block. I didn't even know that was possible lol. Anyways...
I don't know how to feel about this one. I like the classic Ager color palette, but there was a phase during the making of this where the colors were much more muted which looked kinda cool. Also, I realized that I really dislike drawing birds. It was supposed to be a white raven, but Idk it looks kinda goofy, but Lilith's palisman IS goofy looking, so maybe it was unintentionally intentional. That's my excuse at least. Also, drawing straight hair was also painful, but at least I'm pleased with it now.
I'm still trying to figure my art style out. Don't mind the subtle art style changes, but I bet you're already used to that!
> time: 5h 45min
> date: 6.3.2024
> tools: Procreate, (ancient) Ipad mini
> (original) size: 2121 × 2097 px
> characters:
- Lilith Clawthorne (The Owl House)
- unnamed raven palisman, "Mike Socks" (Lilith's raven staff, The Owl House)
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siyooungi · 1 year
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Pairing: Yunjin x Fem!Reader
Idol: Huh Yunjin (Le Sserafim)
Warning(s): None!
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“Hi everyone!” You greeted cheerfully as the comments came rolling in. You had propped the phone to where your surprise item was not shown, but most fans knew that from your past lives that you would be building something.
“I only have one plan for this live and that’s,” You paused, grabbing the lego set box and pulling it into frame. “—building a lego set!” You spoke excitedly as you held the box. Chat sped up with cheers and the smile on your face grew.
“It’s a flower bouquet building kit and I want to give it to my members.” You stated as you began to open the box and take all of the pieces out. You put everything on the table orderly and color coordinated the pieces. That process took some time and you occasionally hummed as you did so, so it wouldn’t be complete silence for those listening and watching the live.
“Okay-“ You were interrupted by a knock at the door, alerting and startling you, nearly causing you to drop the direction paper. The person behind the door laughed and you already knew who it was by the sound. Still, out of respect and habit, you moved the phone so they were out of view when they entered the room. “Come in!” You turned to the door and shouted, resulting in the person opening the door and poking their head through. Of course, although you already you knew who it was, your face lit up regardless and the smile on your face was very telling, especially to chat.
Yunjin fully let herself in as you turned the phone back to its original position, now only showing her from the waist down. “Will you stay for the rest of the live?” You asked as you placed a hand on her hip and looked up at her, hoping for her to say yes. She nodded and went to bring a chair over to you. You scooted over and made sure to provide her with enough room.
As soon as she sat down and her face was in frame, chat went crazy. The taller girl waved and greeted them, causing you to smile as you watched her through the screen before turning your attention back to the lego pieces.
Yunjin chose to talk to chat for the time being as you focused on the directions. Your silence wasn’t surprising to her since when you were set on something, you were really locked in. She would turn to occasionally to see how you were doing and considering how many pieces there were to this set, she knew it would take some time.
You would look up to read and interact with chat from time to time, not wanting to make them think you forgot about them. Though you didn’t speak much, you would also hum and laugh at the things Yunjin would say so she knew you were acknowledging her.
Eventually, Yunjin turned her attention onto you and the legos. Considering you had started not long ago, she was shocked to see the progress you made. It wasn’t halfway, but there was still a great amount of progress. A smile made its way onto her face as she watched you, switching between watching as you put the pieces together and your features and expressions. Unbeknownst to her and you, chat was having a field day and was adoring the way she was looking at you.
The raven haired girl found your concentration to be adorable, as well as the pout you’d have on your face when you were having trouble with some pieces. It would further cause her smile to grow the more she observed you. You were unaware of how long she’d been watching you but when you turned in her direction, you were immediately met with her soft gaze and smile. You looked away sheepishly after you locked eyes with her and quickly averted your attention back to the task at hand, a subtle smile now present on your face. She chuckled at your reaction and scooted closer with the intent of actually assisting you in the build.
Yunjin glanced over the directions with you and decided to work on another flower while also helping you with yours. She noticed you were looking for a specific piece and paused what she was doing to silently look for it for you. Once she spotted it, she reached over and handed it to you. You mumbled a small ‘thank you’ in return, not looking up and instead swiftly putting the piece where it needed to go. She shook her head out of amusement at how focused you were, but continued to work on the flower in front of her nonetheless.
“I’m almost done, you’re slow..” You teased, causing her to head to turn to you in an instant, feigning offense. “You got a head start and I’m helping you!” Yunjin retorted, dropping a piece for the lego flower back onto the table. You stuck your tongue out at her and took one of her pieces for your flower. Her jaw dropped and she stared at you in disbelief.
“You can finish it yourself then.” She crossed her arms and looked away from you. You side eyed her before smiling at her pettiness. “Don’t be like that, Jennifer.” You spoke as you took your attention off of the legos and instead on her. She didn’t bother to look or respond so you leaned forward and got in her face, hoping to get a reaction out of her due to the close proximity.
What you didn’t expect was for her to attempt at giving you a kiss, but not actually planning on connecting your lips. You were the one to react and squealed, immediately backing up and becoming extremely flustered. You covered your mouth and did your best to hide your smile, but anyone could tell by your eyes. Yunjin threw her head back laughing and clapping. You glanced her way but then to the chat, wondering what they were saying.
All you could see was fans talking about how it looked like you guys actually kissed. “We didn’t!” You quickly blurted out, although your words were somewhat muffled due to your hand still being over your mouth. “Or did we?” Yunjin winked at the camera, earning a hit on the shoulder from you.
“Don’t listen to her.” You removed your hand from your mouth and pointed at the camera as a way to point at fans.
“We can if you-“ You swiftly placed your other hand over her mouth, effectively cutting her off. “Well, looks like I’ll be ending this live early.” You stated, not withdrawing your hand.
“Bye!” You waved, to which Yunjin did the same and released a muffled goodbye. You reached forward and stopped the live. Taking off your hand and turning your head to Yunjin, all she could do was smile in response.
“Do you still-“
“Do not finish that sentence.”
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A/N: I was working on a rose lego set and happened to think of this…
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moonswolfie · 6 months
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Kenma + 14 event plz
Kenma x gn!reader
Hi there nonnie!! u didn't specify the gender so I went with gn!reader, I hope that's fine!!
I'm glad u requested kenma because I've been wanting to write more for him😤
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"Come here, my little baby..." you cooed and beckoned your cat over as you lay on the couch. All you wanted right now is have him lay down on your chest so you could cuddle him to oblivion.
Your cat's big round eyes were trained on you, as if pondering over joining you. It eventually jumped up, curling up into your chest. You let out a little squeal of happiness, gently petting your cat and smiling at the way it started purring.
Your cat makes watching TV shows way better. The only thing missing was a warm beverage, perhaps. You feel very content and comfortable right now.
You got so comfy in fact, that you failed to notice your husband staring at you from a few metres away. Or the way his face scrunched up in annoyance.
"I'm home." He said flatly, finally bringing your attention on him. "Oh, welcome home!" You smiled at him before turning back to the TV. You missed the way he gave the cat a slight glare.
He walked past you to get out of his work clothes, intending on replacing your cat when he comes back. That's his spot.
When he came back, he motioned for you to make space on the couch and you bent your legs, still petting the purring cat.
He sat down, scooting over to you slightly to signal his intention. You didn't notice the subtle movement, so he settled on staring at you until you noticed him.
"Hmmm, what's the matter, Kenma?" You hummed, glancing at him. "You've been scrunching your pretty face up ever since you came home. Rough day?"
He swears the cat smirked at him in that moment.
"No, not really." He looked away.
"Then what's-" the cat meowed, demanding more cuddles and interrupting you mid sentence. You cooed at it, continuing "Sorry, what's wrong then?"
Kenma didn't say anything, only looking at the cat. "Ohhhh, is someone jealous?" Your eyebrows raised, tone teasing.
"I'm not jealous." he replied, knowing damn well that isn't the truth.
"Oh come on, you've been staring at him with such hatred it makes me a little worried." you replied playfully.
"Wanna take his place?"
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I completely rewrote this one because the original went in an overly dramatic direction lol
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flurrys-creativity · 3 months
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Happy Death Day
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Pairing: Ateez (OT8) x GN!Reader; Genre: Royal AU, SMUT, PWP; Rating: nsfw, MDNI, 18+; Warnings: mentions of death sentences, mentions of prisoners, suggestive, oral (m receiving) eight different times, hints of becoming a concubine; Wordcount: 3.528
Summary: Once a month eight princes sat down to discuss the prisoners futures. So when it was your turn and they asked for your statement, you said something that would change your fate.
A/N: Due to someone sharing Ateez royal concept pictures in a server, my brain went wild. And after sharing my thoughts, I promised @sanjoongie to write it out. Also thanks to her as well as @daemour and @potatomountain for helping me figure out some details! As always please enjoy this and tell me what you think!
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You silently watched as another prisoner got dragged to their feet and presented to the council of future kings. 
Ever since the old king died without a successor, six families came forth claiming the throne belonged to them. Though as none of them were able to back down, the sons of those families had to come together and work with equal leadership.
Each task the previous king fulfilled on his own was now distributed to the eight possible candidates. Only the biggest tasks were decided on together. Like Death Day.
Once a month prisoners of the country got presented in front of the council for them to decide on their fate. Some received redemption, others got sent back to prison for another month but most got sentenced to death. 
This month you were the last in line to hear your sentence. You watched silently how the other prisoners reacted to their fate - crying, screaming, literally throwing some tantrums. ‘Pathetic’, was the only thing you could think of and with each case you were more and more certain you wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of a similar reaction.
Two soldiers came to your sides and grabbed you by your elbows, pulling you to the front of the large throne room. They dropped you in front of the elevated eight thrones, ignoring how you fell down to your knees and silently groaned in pain.
You pressed your lips into a thin line and got up on your knees, placing your shackled hands on your lap and looking up towards the eight men on their respective thrones.
The thrones weren’t as lavish as the original one behind them. The throne of the old king still stood behind the row of make-shift thrones for the eight men. It seemed to be made out of pure gold and integrated into the floor with plush red pillows to make it more comfortable. 
The make-shift thrones didn’t appear that extravagant. Made out of dark wood and adorned with simple gold applications. Once the new king got chosen the thrones could be removed again as they weren’t connected to the ground.
As one of the men started retelling your supposed sins, you couldn’t care less to listen to it again. Instead your eyes drifted along the men, taking them in silently.
You noticed quickly how they wore similar uniforms. All of them were covered in the colours red, gold and black. 
On the far left from your point of view sat a man, who seemed quite large. He wore a hat, which covered half of his face. Yet you still felt his strong gaze on your form. Prince Song Mingi. His appearance was truly intimidating.
Next to him sat a man whose shoulders appeared to be even broader. He nursed a silver cup in his hand, hiding his subtle smirk behind it. Choi San. He curiously stared at you before he leaned over to his cousin.
Your eyes followed his motion, meeting the expression of a stone-faced man. Choi Jongho. Even under his uniform you could tell he was strong and a man of power. It felt as if every movement of his was calculated - same with calculating everything around him.
While his stare felt unsettling, it was nothing compared to the eyes of the man next to him. Kim Hongjoong definitely had the most unhinged aura surrounding himself. He listened intently to the words of Park Seonghwa, who sat right next to him and read all the information about you from a piece of paper.
He didn’t look up at you, solely focused on his task. Half of his face got hidden behind the paper but you could tell how stunning he looked anyway.
A sudden movement to his right brought your attention further along the line of thrones. Kang Yeosang leaned over to Seonghwa, trying to escape an incredibly touchy Jung Wooyoung with a pressed smile.
Wooyoung lounged on his throne more than sitting on it. His upper body half leaned over to Yeosang, where he tried to grab onto his arm. At the same time his feet dangled over the other side, hitting his overly uninterested cousin every now and then.
Your eyes landed on the large form of Jung Yunho. He rested his chin on his hand and leaned on the armrest of the throne, looking rather bored with the whole situation.
“Y/N?”
Your attention snapped back to Jongho, who raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Didn’t you listen?” He scoffed and shook his head, ignoring the snickering from some of the other men. “I asked for your statement on this matter.”
You tilted your head and blinked a few times to process the question. “What matter? The matter of my death sentence? Are you truly asking me to make a statement about the way I’m going to die?”
San snorted loudly, covering his mouth and face with his free hand.
Hongjoong looked rather amused. A soft grin playing over his lips.
Seonghwa finally lifted his eyes and stared at you, curiosity getting the best of him.
Even Wooyoung and Yeosang halted their spiel and turned to focus on you.
“So you’re not trying to talk yourself out of it? No heartfelt back story, no bribe?” 
You looked at Mingi, one side of your lips twitching into a smirk. “I didn’t know bribing was an option.” You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you took in the reactions of the eight princes in front of you.
Hongjoong gestured for the soldiers to leave the throne hall with a quick motion of his hand. Once the doors were shut behind them he leaned forward. “Currently your sentence is the guillotine. You’d need a rather good bribe to get out of that one.”
You hummed softly as if contemplating his words for a while. “No guillotine could take away the head I’m able to give.”
San choked on his drink yet again and started heavily coughing, needing Jongho to hit his back. Wooyoung leaned over to Yeosang with a wide grin, whispering something into his ear.
To your surprise though it was another prince, who stood up and called your attention. Yunho quietly walked over to you, stopping only a step away from your kneeling form. “Proof it.”
Your lips curled into a knowing grin. You raised your chin upwards, looking at him through your eyelashes. Even though he didn’t say anything else, his gaze was enough for you to know what he expected you to do.
You scooted closer to him without breaking eye contact. With your chained hands you wandered up along his long legs. With nimble fingers you opened his pants, well aware of the stares from the other princes.
Yunho crossed his arms in front of his chest. He refused to acknowledge the effect your touches and your eyes had on him. 
Another sly grin flashed over your lips. As much as he tried to keep composure, it was the little things that betrayed him. How the muscles on his thighs tensed, how his jaw ticked off or how his eyes got somewhat glassy.
You palmed his hardening dick through the fabric of his undergarments. You licked over your lips. The size underneath your fingertips made your mouth water and your imagination run wild. 
Hongjoong stood up from his own throne. He silently wandered to one side, wanting to have a better view of what was to come. Due to Yunho’s broad frame he wasn’t able to see you at all but he needed to know whether you could hold up to your own claim.
You pulled Yunho’s cock out of his restraints, wrapping the fingers of one hand around the base and pumping it ever so slowly. You moved your head closer to his crotch, kissing along his shaft and up to the head of the dick. 
A soft groan escaped Yunho’s throat and his head tilted back ever so slightly. He needed to focus again and it took him every ounce of self control to look back down. His breath hitched when you opened your mouth and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock.
You forgot about everything and everyone around you, solely focusing on Yunho’s dick. You opened your mouth further and descended on his cock, taking him deeper into your wet cave. 
“Fuck”, Yunho cursed under his breath, all composure forgotten now that you bobbed your head on his dick and looked at him with big, innocent eyes. His breath became more irregular with the fast pace you set.
As if possessed he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing you even further down his shaft. The soft garbled noises you made as he hit the back of your throat turned him on even more. 
Tears formed in the corners of your eyes and you tried to relax your jaw and even your breathing to accommodate Yunho’s huge cock. Still, whenever he hit the back of your throat you couldn’t stop the gagging sound from escaping.
A string of more curses fell from Yunho’s lips until he suddenly stilled, shooting his load down your throat. 
Out of nowhere Wooyoung appeared in your line of view as he pulled Yunho away from you. He whistled in acknowledgement once he saw your empty mouth when you licked some spit from the corner of your lips. 
“Guess, our little prisoner proved it.” Jongho stood next to Hongjoong, observing the situation in front of him.
“What? No!” Wooyoung hurried to Yeosang and pulled him to your form as well. “Anyone can give head for one person! It gets interesting whether Y/N is able to give even more.” With that he positioned Yeosang right in front of your face and pulled his pants down, ignoring the weak protests of his friend.
Yeosang was already hard but when you glanced up at his face you noticed the deep red blush on his cheeks. He covered half of his face with one of his large hands, avoiding to look at you or any of the other princes. Yet he didn’t try to remove himself from the situation.
You kissed the tip of his dick, relishing in the shiver that ran through his whole body. For a while you only took the tip in, letting your tongue swirl around it and suck on it ever so gently. 
Yeosang whimpered, not even trying to keep silent. His eyelids fluttered shut. More and more tremors of pleasure ran through his body.
To both your surprises Wooyoung grabbed the back of your head and pushed you forward, holding you down on Yeosang’s cock. 
Your nose pressed against his sternum. The sudden movement made you choke around his dick, tears immediately running down your cheeks. You barely managed to breathe properly, feeling a slight sense of panic as Wooyoung didn’t let go of your head.
Yeosang on the other hand couldn’t help himself and came down your throat, moaning loudly with every spurt.
Wooyoung finally pulled you off of Yeosang. Though he didn’t give you any time to recover, pushing his own dick into your open mouth almost immediately. 
Your hands came up to his thighs, keeping you steady during the rough movements. After a few hard thrusts you were able to take over, making Wooyoung a moaning mess. You bobbed your head, varying the pace from moment to moment. Still, you wanted to edge him even more. You carefully pulled back your lips, grazing his shaft with your teeth. 
“Ah!” Wooyoung quivered from your ministrations. His knees wobbled dangerously and his whines became more and more desperate. “Please, fuck, please let me cum.”
You hollowed your cheeks, encouraging him to follow his pleas. Hot spurts of cum trickled down your throat.
Wooyoung came with an outcry. As soon as he finished, he stepped back on shaking legs. A thin line of spit connected your lips to his dick until he reached enough distance.
You observed him a moment longer as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked back at you with half lidded eyes, the pleasure still evident on his features.
“So far our little prisoner only handled one at a time”, Hongjoong stated with a wicked grin. He glanced over at Mingi and motioned him to come closer with a nod of his head.
You watched as both men moved over to your sides. Their height difference made your head spin with imaginations of what was to come. Your eyes switched between both men, barely noticing how they freed themselves and leisurely pumped their dicks. You could only focus on your rapidly beating heart and the heat building inside of your body.
Mingi tapped his dick against your cheek, moving your attention to his long cock. “Open up”, he told you with another tap - this time on your lips.
You followed his command without wasting a second, even letting your tongue roll out. 
“Listens quite well”, Mingi let the others know as he pushed himself into your awaiting mouth. He grunted deeply and placed his large hand on the top of your head, which nearly covered it completely.
Even with his hand on your head, you had to work for him. You chose the tempo and how deep you actually wanted to go. 
But just as you found your rhythm, Hongjoong cleared his throat behind you. He grabbed you by your neck and pulled you off of Mingi’s dick. Hongjoong chuckled at seeing your tear-stained face. “Don’t forget about me, gorgeous.”
You silently shook your head. You’d never forget about him, you wanted to tell him. 
Hongjoong still pumped his own dick, glancing down at himself to indicate you should go to work now. 
While he wasn’t as long as Mingi’s, you still had to relax your jaw while sucking him off. To your surprise though, Hongjoong pushed you away from himself after a moment, motioning for you to focus on Mingi again.
Almost delirious from kneeling between two princes, you felt bold enough to raise your chained hands to use them on Hongjoong’s cock while blowing Mingi. 
You changed between both of them, ignoring how tired your arms got, until Hongjoong commanded you to sit still. 
Mingi and Hongjoong did the rest, only seconds later spurting strings of cum over your face and upper body.
You wiped your face with your fingers and licked them clean right after it. A smile spread over your lips, when you noticed the lustful eyes of the men as they stepped back to make place for someone else.
San’s gaze seemed soft on the surface. He cupped your face, helping you to clean off the cum. He grinned when you eagerly opened your mouth to clean his thumb, silently thanking him for his help.
You swirled your tongue around his digit, looking up at him through your lashes. With every move of your tongue though, you noticed how his eyes darkened and the lust grew more and more prominent. 
San pressed his thumb down on your tongue, smirking when you tried fighting against it. He forced your mouth open. His smirk grew once your jaw slackened. San grabbed his dick with his free hand and rubbed it over your lips, smearing his precum over them.
You wanted to wrap your lips around his cock, wanted to lick along his shaft with your tongue but you couldn’t do anything - just sit there and keep your mouth open for San.
Only towards the end did San let go of your jaw, ordering you to finish him off. 
You wrapped your hands around his base while you hollowed your cheeks to go down on him. You tried rotating your wrists for an extra kick but the limited movements of your hands made the job slightly harder. 
You noticed how San’s nose scrunched up the closer he got to his release. You moved your head back, resting his twitching cock on your outstretched tongue.
San watched how string after string of cum shot into your mouth and pooled on your tongue. He groaned and closed his eyes, throwing his head back until his load emptied out.
With a small smirk you kept your mouth open and moved your tongue around for a bit, playing with his cum before you swallowed it.
You sat back on your heels, licking over your lips. Even though your head and thoughts were spinning, you knew you weren’t done yet. You thought the next prince would simply step in front of you but when you turned your head, Jongho beckoned you towards him.
You pushed yourself up on your feet - the first few steps slightly uncertain from kneeling for quite some time. You walked up the five steps and stopped in front of Jongho, raising one eyebrow as you looked down at him.
Jongho chuckled and simply leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. He looked at you, daring you to blow his mind.
Without hesitation you dropped down on your knees again. Your hands wandered over his strong thighs and up to the waistband of his pants. You giggled softly when Jongho lifted his hips to help you remove his pants. 
His eyes darkened and focused on you even more after hearing your giggle. Jongho swallowed harshly. Somehow - even without your mouth on his dick yet - he understood the reactions of the others.
You started with small kitten licks, fascinated Jongho only made little hums as a reaction. Trying to get even more out of him, you went down on him. You didn’t go slow nor tried teasing him. You simply desired to take all of him in.
“Shit.”
If you would have been able to, you would have smirked upon hearing him curse and seeing how his mask slowly broke down. The second you felt his dick twitching inside your mouth, you inhaled through your nose deeply and then pushed yourself down on him until your nose pressed against his sternum. You stayed in that position and only moved away once you milked Jongho dry.
Seonghwa appeared next to you and gently pulled you up on your feet, smiling awkwardly when your attention drifted to him. His beauty entranced you. 
“You did so well already”, Seonghwa mumbled and guided you a few steps away from Jongho. He had watched the other princes patiently, keeping silent about his painfully hard dick. He had watched how some of them were hard again and simply resumed to please themselves while they watched you intently. Seonghwa though hadn’t touched himself at all.
“I’ll do well for you too”, you whispered back, hands already rubbing over his clothed dick. 
Seonghwa exhaled sharply and closed his eyes. He took in the feeling, shuddering from the pleasure running through his whole body. “Please.”
Ever so slowly you got down on your knees one more time, removing his pants and undergarments at the same time. 
You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, using your thumb to circle his leaking hole. You looked up to his face, noticing how he bit down on his lower lip. 
He barely opened his eyes - just enough to see you opening your lips and enveloping them around the head of his cock. Seonghwa praised you softly, brushing strands of your hair out of your face over and over again.
Once Seonghwa came, you were barely able to swallow his load before he pulled you up on your feet again and slammed his mouth on yours. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking along your lips, teeth and own tongue as well - tasting his and maybe even the cum of the others. 
His kiss turned your world upside down. Your thoughts tumbled through your head without any control, just like your desire swirled through your whole body. It yearned for more.
After Seonghwa broke the kiss and guided you back to your spot before the eight thrones, you silently stood there - eyes unfocused, breathing irregular and mouth slightly open.
The eight princes had found their respective seats again, sharing meaningful glances between one another. 
“I think all of us can agree that your statement wasn’t just a bluff”, Hongjoong announced, pulling you out of your trance.
“And we’re willing to redeem you.”
“Under one condition”, Wooyoung chimed in and somewhat interrupted Seonghwa, who momentarily glared at him but returned to look at you with a smile and a nod.
“What condition?” You asked carefully, eyeing each of the princes.
“You’ll stay at the palace.” Jongho told you simply.
“Make use of your head.” San had his silver glass back in his hand and toasted it towards you with a wink.
Yunho shifted to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. “Maybe even more than just your head.” A smirk played over his lips as his eyes wandered along your form.
“We wouldn’t want to send you to the guillotine after all.” 
You straightened upon hearing Mingi’s words. But when you turned your head to look at him and saw a teasing grin on his face, you relaxed again and nodded in confirmation.
Yeosang’s deep voice pulled your attention at last: “I hope you’re ready for what is to come.”
© all rights reserved
Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland​ @songsoomin
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cassiesdevblog · 8 months
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~Shmovement~ in Grey Area
Hello goober goblins! Grey Area comes out ~September 15th~ and I wanna make some posts going over my involvement with the project 👁️👁️
I joined the project back in March because, while playing early builds, there were a million things, big and small, that I wanted to be able to polish up to really make the game shine, and my top priority was Hailey's movement
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Grey Area is a game where beginners will mostly play inside a small range of velocities, but, thanks to @bisthefairy, there are ways to build and maintain greater speeds, so Hailey's movement has to be tuned for both small-scale, precision platforming and large-scale, broader movements. Plus, as most of the level design was already finished when I joined, all my changes had to work with, rather than against, the established design
General momentum adjustments
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When I first joined, there were a few ways that slow and fast play would clash with one another. For instance, Hailey had low air friction. This was nice at higher speeds, because you should be able to briefly release the d-pad to shave off a little speed without getting rid of all of it, but it didn't mesh with tighter sections where you'd be asked to land precisely on small platforms
Luckily, since the smaller range of speeds Hailey usually stays within is well defined, I was able to just dramatically increase her air friction while not pressing a direction, only while inside that range.
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Unfortunately, this led to a small problem: There are lots of spots in the game where you're meant to bonk off a wall and land on a platform. Where you could previously do this without having to hold a direction, you now had to hold back a little or Hailey wouldn't make it. To fix this, I just made her use the old friction during a bonk. That may seem unintuitive, but the bonk is all about Hailey bouncing back off a wall, so it feels natural for her to travel further. In practice, the discrepancy doesn't feel like a discrepancy.
Dive momentum changes
Hailey's main mechanic is her dive: a burst movement option that lets you speed straight forward. You can cancel out of the move at any point, cutting off all your momentum. However, when I first joined, Hailey would keep a small amount of the dive's momentum after a cancel. The intent was to let you keep the flow going even after a cancel, but it led to lots of overshooting in a game with low margins for error. I preserved the original way if the player is holding in the direction of the dive, so you can still keep your flow going, but if you're not pressing a direction, Hailey will instead cancel all the momentum and drop straight down
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Release cancel (aka, half the reason I joined the project)
These subtle changes have made Hailey much more reliable to control. It feels much easier to translate your intent onto the screen regardless of how fast you're going (September 15th btw)
Speaking of intent, I've had a big impact on this game's controls! The first time I ever played, the dive could only be canceled by releasing B and then pressing it again. I felt this was really cumbersome and I barely felt in control, so I wanted to cancel by just releasing B
This was controversial though, as everyone else preferred the original way, so I instead suggested being able to cancel by pressing back on the d-pad, as it felt instinctual to hold against the direction of momentum to cancel it. I also suggested being able to press down to cancel, since a player might think of it as dropping Hailey down. Fortunately, both were implemented and the game became a bit more comfortable for me, but I couldn't get the idea of releasing B to cancel out of my head
Later, when I finally got my hands on the project, release cancel was the first thing I added, and it felt just as right and perfect and natural as I imagined it would. I figured, if I just made the other devs play with it, they might see the merits of it and change their minds. Tragically it didn't change any minds, but I was ultimately able to persuade Alayna to make it an option in the options menu. When you play the game, especially if you don't like how cancelling is controlled, please please please try changing "Press to dive" to "Hold to dive" in the options menu and join the church of release cancel. We have plenty of room :')
Other controls
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I've made a bunch of other small changes to the controls too! Generally, I like every button on the controller to do something, so I mirrored a lot of functions to previously unused buttons. Hopefully this makes the game feel more responsive and playful, as well as a little more accessible! I also made it so Hailey sits down when you press down :) It's one of only a few graphics I drew for the game! (did I mention September 15th btw)
The Bounce 👁️👁️
I've saved my biggest (and most iterated upon) change for last >:3
When Hailey dives at smaller enemies, she'll bounce off as if she goomba stomped them, which cancels her dive and allows her to dive again. I added this because I thought the sick tricks and possibility for advanced play were too sweet to pass up. Not to mention it just seemed like fun. Plus, it would add exciting counterplay to some previously unexciting enemies. It's a simple mechanic, but it underwent a lot of changes!
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Firstly, it used to work on almost every enemy, but it didn't feel right against bigger monsters. We ended up deciding that Hailey should only be able to do this against enemies around her size, so in practice, this mainly comes up with the Golch enemy. When I first played, I found the Golch really annoying, as the best and safest strategy to deal with it was to just stand and wait for it to fly toward you so you could jump on it. Now, you can dive right at it and pull off sweet tricks instead! This has ended up making room for tons of cool skips and it feels great >:3
I even redesigned the Golch's flight path so that it will usually be flying at your exact elevation (it moves faster vertically than it does horizontally to accomplish this) so you can more consistently dive straight into it
I also made it so that bouncing off an enemy clamps your speed within a relatively small range, as otherwise you would carry the momentum of the dive and easily fly off into a pit
Now, in my mind, this all worked perfectly, but then disaster struck
@zombielesbean, who uses press cancel, would try to press B to cancel right before running into an enemy in order to avoid it, but would press a few frames too late and instead the input would happen after Hailey had bounced off the enemy, so she'd dive again and accidentally fly off into a pit. We tried a million different avenues to resolve this, but all of them were significant downgrades to the mechanic
Fortunately, Alayna found that the issue was only happening because of the enemy placements in one or two spots, and after adjusting them, it was no longer an issue, so fortunately the best version of the mechanic got in >:3
So yeah!!
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Those are a few of the ways I've cleaned up and improved Hailey's movement since I joined! I've gotten my grubby paws all over every bit of this game in a similar way. Cleaning things up, tuning numbers, adding effects, making things more clear, overhauling things, enhancing the flavor
A huge takeaway from this project for me has been that polish is a full time job!! Every little bit of polish seems small on its own, but when you add them all up they can make the difference between a decent game and a total banger. It just takes a huge amount of time to accrue all those tiny things. I think that's why they say you should triple all your time estimates on gamedev...!!
Fortunately, I have a good eye and a strong passion for all those little things, so I feel like an extremely valuable asset on this project, even though my hand is largely invisible and it takes long-winded posts like this to even explain what I've done
As Bis puts it, "Cass did for Grey Area before release what Sonic modders do for Sonic games after release"
~September 15th you vibrant fools~
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ikinremu · 7 months
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KINKTOBER DAY 2: Remus Lupin x Marking
My Girl
Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader
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! Smut Warning !
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Without seeming overly brash - you had quite the fondness for when Remus would become possessive, despite him not crossing into that realm very often. It was rather strange, there just seemed to be something so enthralling about it - so enthralling that - okay, yes, - perhaps you sought it out, similarly to today.
You couldn't help but utilise your knowledge of his irks in a beneficial manner, nobody was getting hurt - quite the opposite really - so of course you'd acted upon those desires today.
A little flirtatious insinuation with another peer was harmless, and it'd gone just how you'd anticipated: leaving you trapped in your dorm with just your, rather agitated, boyfriend.
Clothed back pressed to the cold, rough surfaced bricks behind you, your stomach could only fizzle with this building heat.
"Listen, Remus.." You began, attempting to compress a victorious grin, and as you reached for his hand, yours were suddenly pinned above your head.
A harsh friction emerged, withholding a sudden collision between his lips your neck. Hot, airy breath swarmed beneath your jaw, gentle nibbles planted to your lower-lobe. With a sharp inhale, you lost all desire to complete your sentence, deeming it incredibly irrelevant as you revelled in the passion of these inflictions.
"Mine, you got that?" Remus whispered, a slight gravel lacing his voice. His callous thumb dug into the curve of your jaw, other hand using very little effort to uphold yours.
You offered a rather subtle nod, head tilted ever so slightly back as you further melted under your boyfriends touch. Roughly sucking at your fragile skin, his possessive intent was now wholly unmasked.
Deep, tawny eyes flitting up to meet yours, Remus slowly - skilfully - trailed his soft, balmy mouth down to your clavicle.
Accompanied by a gruff - though wavering - groan, he shifted his grasp upon your jaw to the low, elasticated neckline of your shirt, swiftly pulling the material to a rest beneath your bra.
"Gonna mark you up all pretty for me.." He uttered, capturing the smooth, thick flesh of your upper chest between his lips. "Show everyone you're my girl, yeah?"
Unbeknownst to it it or not, Remus was certainly fuelling your arousal, pushing it beyond what you'd originally foreseen.
Demonstrating the force required for his desired effect, he sucked with greater ferocity, your body immensely conflicted by the combination of both heat and shivers.
Further subjecting you to his control, he contrived an exceptionally tight squeeze to your wrists, keeping them so firmly pinned above your head. 
Dumbfounded, you remained largely quiet - more so in a verbal sense than in general audibility. Your stomach couldn't resist its fluttering as Remus' mouth darted between such careless inflictions, scattering, hot, darkening marks across your chest - neck not at all short of them either; it seemed he was completely lacking the intention of concealment.
You could so easily see the blatancy of what he'd left, and oddly enough, you were anything but phased.
With a collection of hushed, sultry whispers of  'My fuckin girl', and the drive of some additional, point-proving blemishes, Remus raised his head once more. Atoning the intimacy, he so tenderly brought his forehead to a gentle, weightless connection to yours, finally granting you the soft, kind collision of his lips pressing against your own.
"Good enough reminder?"
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Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the asks feature on my page for requests of oneshots/drabbles/blurbs etc.. would be greatly appreciated, though I will be responding to them after kinktober since i’m doing the full month! <3
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malice-ov-mercy · 29 days
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Maskros
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Pairing: Jolly Karlsson x OFC (Mariah)
Content Warnings: art student au, 18+!, female nudity, implied past toxic relationship,
A/N: The pic that inspired this. And in typical me fashion, my original idea got abandoned. Can’t promise there will be a second part, but I still have some ideas floating about.
Word count: 2k
Tag list: @circle-with-me @xxrainstorm @foliosriot @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @concretenoah @witchyweeb34 @an-insane-day @lyschko666 @calisto-thoughts @agravemisstake @shroomfairy24 @cncohshit @dominuslunae @th4t-em0-k1d
If you would like to be added, please let me know for who! If you tell me everyone/everything, just know that includes anything I may write for Bad Omens AND/OR Lorna Shore!
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Jolly Masterlist
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Still as could be, Mariah sat under Jolly’s scrutinizing, concentrated stare. He studied every little detail of her figure, roaming over every imperfection and dip. Meticulous scribbling filled the space between them. Every so often, she flashed a quick, closed lip smile at him, trying to ease the nervous tension in her body. Each time he returned the gesture, her stomach flipped.
Jolly seemed completely oblivious and unfazed to Mariah’s nudity—which truthfully she was grateful for. She’d never modeled nude before, not even sent one. He was so kind and graceful, reassuring her that she was safe, and they could stop at any time. Jolly told her he’d just as happily sketch her fully clothed; it made no difference to him. He wanted nothing more than for her to feel comfortable.
He stopped his sketching, his brows furrowing as he stared intently at the page in front of him. Mariah watched curiously, hoping to commit his focused expression to memory. Squinted eyes looked at hers.
“Is something wrong?” Mariah asked, suddenly feeling self conscious.
Jolly rubbed his jaw, charcoal smudges being left behind by his fingers.
“I’m having trouble getting your tattoo,” he stated, eyes drifting to the dandelions between her breasts. “Could I get closer?”
Mariah offered a small smile and nodded. Jolly gathered his sketch pad and charcoal in his arm, and dragged the stool closer. She sucked in a short breath.
He now sat a little more than a foot away, close enough that she could smell the woodsy freshness of his cologne. It was like he collected the aroma from the forest itself. A subtle floral note tickled her nose as Jolly tied his hair back. His brown hazel eyes landed on her with a smile. Mariah’s heart pounded against her ribs. She wondered if he could hear it.
“Thank you, maskros,” Jolly said, busying himself once more with the drawing, “I promise to be quick.”
She tried not to think about how long his eyes lingered on her chest and how little he glanced at his sketch or how warm his concentrated stare made her skin.
Mariah snuck a glance at his work, only to find herself distracted by the practiced and skilled movements of Jolly’s fingers. Each tiny twitch, every minuscule adjustment he made was deliberate—even the way he held onto his sketch pad served an important purpose. If he noticed her own intense gaze, he hid it well.
Jolly shifted uncomfortably. He crossed his leg, accidentally kicking Mariah in the process. She jolted at the abrupt contact. Panicked, he reached for her, his hand gently squeezing the space above her knee. His touch sent a wave of warmth up her thigh that spread through her, setting somewhere deep in her chest.
“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Jolly unconsciously squeezed her knee again.
Her eyes landed on his hand, the softly calloused skin making her mind run wild. Heat spread across her face as images of him exploring her body flooded her head. She wondered how his lips would feel on hers, how ticklish his facial hair would be on her neck. Would he litter her skin in marks or leave her unblemished?
Jolly’s gaze followed Mariah’s. The realization he was touching dawned on him suddenly.
“Ah, sorry!” He apologized and pulled his hand away. Charcoal fingerprints were left behind. Jolly reached to hastily brush away the smudges but stopped, blabbering more apologies for touching her.
His obvious concern and panic of his actions made Mariah giggle. Jolly looked at her like a deer in headlights, then eased into an embarrassed laugh.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to kick or… touch.”
Mariah smiled sweetly. “It’s fine, honest.”
Jolly matched her expression. Silence filled the space between them. Mariah rubbed the marks on her knee, letting her mind wander again but less freely. Absent-mindedly, Jolly fiddled with the edge of his sketch pad, using it to wipe away the mess on his fingers. An ache formed in Mariah’s shoulders that slowly crept through the rest of her body.
“Do you mind if we take a break?” She spoke quietly.
“Of course.”
Quickly, Jolly stood and neatly placed his supplies on his stool. He stepped around her with a small smile, reaching for his wine red sateen robe draped on the back of his desk chair. The warmth Mariah felt earlier returned when their fingertips brushed. Jolly averted his eyes as she shrugged on and secured the robe. It swallowed her whole. There was room for an entire other person inside.
“I think this might be a little big.” Mariah held out her arms and chuckled.
Jolly gave her a once over, a lopsided smile on his face.
“You’re welcome to put your clothes back on,” he gestured to her neatly folded clothes on his desk.
“I’ll be fine in this, thank you.”
His smile softened.
“As long as you’re comfortable.”
Mariah beamed. “I am, I promise. You’ve made me feel very safe.”
She swore she saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks.
“Good, good.” Jolly glanced around his studio, searching for something to focus his attention on other than his heart hammering against his ribs and the beauty in red stealing his breath.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her long. The rich, green hazel staring back captivated him. Rings of gold haloed around Mariah’s pupils, so bountiful and pure, royals alike would start wars just for the promise to gaze upon it. He dared not tell her how exceptional she looked in his robe, like a goddess straight from mythology. The deep red complimented her eyes and warm complexion in ways he only read about. He was a man of desires and needs, but her comfort came before that. Jolly prided himself on his composure, but damned he be in her presence.
The fullness of her plump lips, the immaculate way her dandelion tattoo accentuated her perky yet small breasts, her lone freckle just below her left breast. God, what he would give to feel her skin under his lips, see her writhing and gasping his name as if she was praying.
“Jolly?” Her raspy yet angelic voice interrupted his thoughts.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He broke from his salacious delving daydreams.
He found himself momentarily blinded by her bright smile.
“I asked if you have anything to eat. I’m a little hungry.”
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Jolly picked at the assortment of fruits in his bowl. All he could focus on was the way Mariah’s lips curved around the strawberries. She swiped her thumb over her bottom lip, collecting the lingering juice and honey before mindlessly licking it away. Silently, he chastised himself for the way his body reacted.
“These are some of the best strawberries I’ve ever had.” Mariah said, her eyes fluttering shut as she tossed the rest of the berry in her mouth.
“They’re from a local market.” Jolly popped a few blueberries. “All the fruit is.”
She hummed. “That would explain why I like the blueberries. I’m always disappointed in the store bought.”
Jolly watched her trace a finger around the rim of her bowl. He kept his eyes glued to her hand as she plucked a blackberry and brought it to her mouth. The tip of her tongue poked between her lips, lightly licking at the honey before biting. Dark red lined her inner lips and trickled down her chin.
Mariah hastily covered her mouth, embarrassed by her mess. Jolly hurried to reach for a napkin and stepped beside her. Without hesitation, he pulled her hand away and softly grabbed her jaw. He tilted her head back, gently wiping away the juice from her chin and lips. Delicate pink brushed her cheeks.
Once more, Jolly found himself lost deep in her eyes, willingly letting himself fall under her spell.
“Jolly?” She whispered.
Jolly tilted her head down then back again, studying the way the green and gold in her eyes shifted in the lighting.
“Your eyes are gorgeous.”
Mariah’s blush deepened. “Thank you. Yours are pretty too.”
He hadn’t realized how close their faces became until the soft, sweet scent of fruit and honey filled his nostrils. The sudden urge to kiss her almost overwhelmed him, but he restrained. Her eyes danced between his while he hoped the quick flick to her lips wasn’t obvious.
“You can kiss me.”
The words froze Jolly in place. He looked back to Mariah’s eyes just as hers fell to his lips.
“Are you sure?” He pulled away from her, but only enough so he could fully look at her face.
Unwavering certainty saturated her gaze.
“Yes,” she said with a confident nod. “Kiss me.”
It sounded more like a demand than request. Either way, Jolly was happy to oblige.
He grasped Mariah’s chin with his thumb and index finger. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting expectantly. The thudding of his heart deafened his ears. It kicked into overdrive as he leaned down, the erratic rhythm pumping through his blood.
Pillowy, plush softness greeted his lips. A gentle, lingering peck is all Jolly offered despite the burning desire to devour her. Radiant hazel peered at him through long lashes. He tugged at her bottom lip with his thumb, prompting Mariah to keep them parted.
“Kiss me again,” the quiet, sultry sound of her command stoked the steady growing heat in his loins.
Soft and slow, he slotted their lips together. Divine sugary sweetness filled his mouth. They ate the same fruits, but the taste was far better on her tongue. Jolly trailed his hand to the side of Mariah’s neck, delicately stroking his thumb along her jaw and settling it to the rapid pace of her pulse. He was glad to know he had a similar effect on her—though he hoped her palms were less sweaty. His other hand found her waist and he pulled her a smidge closer, the cool sateen a welcomed contrast against his skin.
Mariah easily followed Jolly’s lead. Much like him, she savored the berries and honey on his breath, delectable and delicious. She didn’t expect his kiss to be so gentle and calm with the heated intensity of his stare. An overwhelming blend of emotions flowed through her, making her mind race and head spin. She latched onto his hips, desperate to keep herself grounded.
The material of Jolly’s shirt was softer than she expected. Mindlessly, Mariah ran her hands from the hem up to his chest and down again. Jolly took it as an invitation to slip his hand higher and trail his kisses along her jaw then under, until he reached the base of her neck. She gripped his sides harsher than intended with a loud gasp.
“Jolly—“ Her breathless call of his name went straight through him.
He pressed more into her space, seeking more, only to be weakly pushed back.
Heavy panting filled the air between them. Jolly feared he crossed a line and took a large step back, allowing Mariah the space she needed. Her eyes were closed as she collected her thoughts and breaths.
“I’m sorry.” Mariah said after a long moment of silence. He could sense she felt guilty.
“Don’t apologize,” Jolly started to reach for one of her hands but hesitated. “I… feel I’m the one who owes an apology.”
“No, no. You’re fine,” Mariah took it upon herself to grab Jolly’s hand and laced their fingers together, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I just… it’s been… a while and my last experience wasn’t the most pleasant.
“The guy was a real asshole about it,” she continued. “He was more worried about himself and focused mostly on him. He blamed me for not being able to get off because it couldn’t possibly be his fault.”
Jolly listened intently. He noticed water welling in her eyes and quickly reached for the berry stained napkin. Mariah sheepishly accepted the gesture, dabbing away the wetness before it could trickle down her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you.” Mariah laughed, slightly embarrassed. “Not very cool of me.”
He offered a sympathetic smile. “I still think you’re pretty cool.”
The sound of her laugh made his smile grow wider. Jolly wanted to kiss her again, but instead he carefully wrapped her in a snug, comforting embrace. She clung tightly to him, grateful for his reassurance.
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demon-slayer-chaos · 6 months
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so
uhm
uh
akaza yandere?
but like
obsessive yandere?
like?
really obsessive yandere?
ruh roh?
oopsies?
*doesn't have to be pure minded either 🧍🏻‍♀️*
"A Demons Love" Yandere!Akaza x reader.
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Hehehe I finally got off my ass and wrote this after it sitting in my drafts for literally a whole year.
Triggers: Yandere Themes, obsession, kidnapping, Akaza low key is out of character ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING HIM LEAVE ME ALONE 😭. I DON'T CONDONE ANY OF THESE ACTIONS THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.
Characters in this: Akaza
Requested: Yes
🔓 Requests are closed as of now🔓
Link to rules
Masterlist coming soon...
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🏮- Oh dear, poor you. Dealing with an upper moon? How unfortunate.
🏮- Akaza's obsession started when he saw you taking a lonely night walk near your house. He wasn't out to kill anyone, he originally intended to just enjoy the moons light and the gentle nighttime breeze. Then he saw you.
🏮- He saw your figure and got interested, he started watching you out of curiosity. He knew that most humans wouldn't take a random walk at night, people weren't stupid, they knew demons existed. So it was an uncommon sight.
🏮- Before long, he felt a deep longing for a connection he has never experienced before. He knew he had a past love, but nobody had struct him as hard as you did. Seeing your beautiful hair seemed to always be shining in the moonlight, the way your eyes stood out, something about you hoping first sight made the upper moon fall hard.
🏮- His desire for closeness and attachment leads him down a dark path.
🏮- Despite his twisted feelings, Akaza maintains a facade of respect and courtesy towards you. He believes that treating you with kindness will make you reciprocate his affections.
🏮- His nightly watches soon became small talk between the two of you, which soon became conversations, eventually the two of you befriended each other. You weren't scared of him, and he wasn't going to harm you.
🏮- The two of you took regular walk, and you found out more about each other. Akaza always remembered these conversations, especially with little details.
🏮- One night you talk about your favorite flowers, the next morning you have them at your door step. One night you mention your favorite food? It's in your kitchen that morning, freshly made. Have a book you've been eyeing recently at a shop? You have it now. All because of him
🏮-This friendship comes at a cost however, Akaza becomes possessive and jealous, unable to bear the thought of anyone else having even the slightest influence on you. Only he should be able to see that gorgeous smile, or hear that beautiful laugh!
🏮- This possessiveness may manifest in subtle ways, such as monitoring your activities or keeping tabs on your relationships.
🏮- He struggles with his internal conflict between his violent tendencies and his desire to keep you safe. His actions might range from intense outbursts of rage to tender moments of care and protection. But he'd never show that side to you.
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He waited so patiently every night to see you, what was taking so long?
The moonlight bathed the quiet courtyard, casting eerie shadows upon the stone walls. Akaza's eyes scanned around in the dark, waiting for you. Searching like a hunter finding it's prey, except there was no malicious intentions with him. He simply wanted to go on his nightly walk with you once more, it was a habit he squeezed into his schedule after god knows how long. He had a plead and beg for Muzan to allow a bit of free time for him to enjoy with you. Normally if you didn't feel good or an emergency happened he wouldn't be upset about missing such a small activity, if anything he'd still find you and watch over you. But tonight nothing changed, except your presence was absent.
He waited patiently for you in the dark, he was slowly getting more and more upset. Were you skipping out on the walk? He didn't know, until his eyes fixated upon you, his object of obsession, as you went about your evening routine. He saw your figure with a few others walking down the same path the two of you take every night.
Your gentle laughter echoed through the night air as you conversed with a group of friends. Akaza's heart skipped a beat, a twinge of jealousy piercing his chest. How dare they bask in your light, sharing the joy that should be his alone? He felt his nails digging into his palms as he watched, seeing that you went out with friends. Normally he'd know about such an event and wouldn't care too much, but it was clearly last minute.
As the night deepened, the group dispersed, leaving you alone in the tranquil courtyard. Akaza seized the opportunity, emerging from the shadows with a smile carefully painted across his face. His voice, though soft and gentle, carried a subtle undercurrent of possession.
"Ah, my dearest," he murmured, stepping forward, his eyes ablaze with fervent adoration. "How fortunate I am to witness your radiance under the moon's embrace."
You turned to face him, surprise flickering across your features. The unfamiliar intensity in his gaze momentarily gave you pause, but you dismissed it as a trick of the moonlight. "Akaza, you startled me," you said, offering a small smile.
"Forgive me, my love," he replied, his voice tinged with a blend of remorse and delight. "I couldn't resist the urge to be near you, to inhale the sweet fragrance of your existence." Akaza's words dripped with an unnerving possessiveness, yet his demeanor remained oddly respectful. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping you, suffocating yet comforting. A predatory glimmer danced in his eyes, his obsession transparent. He then gently, yet tightly grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his chest.
"Your laughter, your every breath—it belongs to me," he whispered, his voice dripping with longing and madness. "No one else can understand your worth, your essence, as deeply as I do."
As the fear trickled down your spine, you took a step back, a cautious glimmer in your eyes. "Akaza, you're scaring me," you spoke softly, attempting to reason with the man who stood before you, his desire veering dangerously into obsession.
A twisted smile curved Akaza's lips as he raised a hand, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "Oh, my dear, do not fear. I am merely taking what rightfully belongs to me," he declared, his voice laced with a chilling conviction. Before you could react, a sudden surge of strength coursed through his body, his hand swiftly closing around your wrist. Panic flooded your senses as you realized you were unable to break free from his grasp, his supernatural strength overpowering your every attempt.
As you struggled, your heart pounded against your ribcage, the realization of your predicament sinking in. Akaza, the one you once considered a friend, had crossed the threshold of obsession, becoming a captor of your very being. With a smooth, calculated motion, Akaza pulled you closer, his grip unyielding. "My love, I cannot bear the thought of you being apart from me any longer."
A twisted, feverish gleam filled Akaza's eyes as he whispered, his voice a chilling mix of possessiveness and delusion. "In my arms, you shall remain forever, my precious treasure. No one else shall have you. No one else deserves you."
Terror surged through your veins as you realized the depth of Akaza's obsession, his determination to keep you confined to his twisted world. You fought against his hold, desperate for freedom, but his grip only tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. With a sharp, predatory grin, Akaza hoisted you over his shoulder effortlessly, your struggles rendered futile against his supernatural strength. He carried you away, his steps quick and purposeful, leaving the moonlit courtyard and venturing into the depths of the night.
Your voice trembled as you pleaded with him, your words laced with desperation. "Akaza, please... Let me go. This isn't love. This is captivity."
Akaza's laughter echoed through the empty streets, a chilling melody that sent shivers down your spine. "Love, my dearest, is a fickle thing. It can be gentle, yes, but it can also be possessive and consuming. I am consumed by my love for you, and I shall protect you from the world that seeks to take you away."
As he carried you further into the shadows, your heart sank. You were trapped, at the mercy of a demon's warped affection. The world outside grew distant, and the future appeared bleak. In the depths of Akaza's twisted love, you could only hope for a sliver of light to guide you back to freedom.
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gattnk · 5 months
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Rector Cassidy and Rector Kubral will do what they must. They'll soldier on to the end.
I'm currently working on the redesigns for the Golden School staff; normally I would've started with Arkan and Temptel, but believe it or not Cassidy and Kubral were my first redesigns for this project! Yes, they precede even Raf and Sulfus in my sketchbook. I like to start with villains first when designing casts, since they tend to give me more wiggle room to be creative: this way I get to set the bar for the rest of the project, and I can make my heroes just as visually interesting. Here's my usual notes on the process:
The first step was understanding the characters and their motivations. Once I had their personalities and roles established, I could work on their appearance. I decided Kubral would embody brutality, and Cassidy, fear.
The themes stem from their origins: war is forever linked to brutality and fear as both causes and effects, so it makes sense that two generals personify them, since they too are both products and promulgators of war.
Kubral was easy enough to figure out. Heavy-looking square shapes, towering height accentuated by even taller horns, meaty claws that could snap you like a twig... As a whole, Kubral was based on gothic grotesques. I was also particularly inspired by Goliath from Disney's Gargoyles (his wings folding behind him like a cape is peak character design I tell you). All in all I simplified his original design to his most iconic features, with the addition of a forked beard as a symbol of power and authority.
Cassidy's design had to be much more subtle: fear is a thing that creeps on you, it catches you off-guard and overpowers you. My use of lean curves with sudden sharp angles is meant to represent just that. I included an eye motif to evoke an ever-present state of vigilance and paranoia; the eyes are also a callback to prophetic descriptions of angels, since I was very inspired by medieval stained glass at the time. This is the closest thing to a religious reference you'll get from me here!
I established early on in my creative process that, as angels and devils age, they gain new physical traits. Cassidy's carved halo and double pair of wings are a sign of her age and power. In Kubral's case, there's his tail and enlarged horns, wings and claws.
Cassidy's colors are derived from Raf's: blue, gold and white, sans the touch of red. The only "red" in Cassidy's color scheme is her faded ginger hair (no matter how much time passes, the enemy is still in her head). Her gloves and dark blue shirt underneath her white jacket symbolize her veiled intentions, and her shoes, the same shade as her shirt, represent the dark path she threads.
Kubral's hues are all shades of red (except for his hair, same principle as Cassidy's). This includes his eyes; you could say he "sees red" all the time. He's a straightforward character, so he doesn't conceal his old medals, his general rank proudly displayed on his chest. Still, Kubral is not just brawns, his cruelty motivates his more scheming side. He keeps an ace on his sleeve, or more accurately, his pocket: the tip of his tail is always hidden on his right side, so he may strike his enemies on their left with it.
Phew! If you think I overthink my character designs sometimes, you should see my scene notes regarding architecture lol. Still, I'm proud of my process with these two! For now they've only briefly appeared in my rewrite fic I'll Fly With You, but they'll get their moment to shine soon enough. Their plans will be certainly different from Season 2, so there's that to look forward to!
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