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#y'all why are there so many versions of him
the-daily-male · 4 months
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Today's daily male is Dave Strider from Homestuck!
for anonymous!
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ghost-proofbaby · 2 months
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IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)
"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."
summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.
pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader
warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.
wc: 7.7k+
a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.
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When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.
There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.
Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.
A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.
The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse. 
Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.
But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.
God, you had bled for him. 
Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless. 
You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.
That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings. 
Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival. 
And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.
You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles. 
Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.
His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery. 
Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.
His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.
It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.
Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating. 
The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of  mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own. 
Hunger.
You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.
And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him. 
A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.
��How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy. 
Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.
“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.
In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.
Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.
“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.” 
“Gee, thanks, Stevie.” 
Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him. 
It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.
“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”
“Is it? Is it really?” 
If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun. 
Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“
“The whole dying thing, for starters.”
“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“
“Again, I died.” 
“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl. 
Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization. 
It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.
By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.
The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.
Your safety.
Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault. 
No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life. 
He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal. 
Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.
It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence. 
Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town. 
Come to me. 
Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.
Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.
Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.
One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence. 
Come to me. 
The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems. 
“Why are you here?” 
You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him. 
The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible. 
But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment. 
“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…” 
I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you. 
Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?
And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give. 
“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.” 
“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch. 
The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own. 
He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”
He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.
You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.
“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”
The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths. 
The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness. 
“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”
“I-” 
He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep. 
He flinches away. Something inside of you burns. 
Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away. 
“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”
You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs. 
“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”
“They didn’t.”
“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”
“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.” 
Healed.
Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.
“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down. 
Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him. 
“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.” 
“So why are you still in pain?” 
A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other. 
Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.” 
Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps. 
“Me?”
He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…” 
“Different?” 
He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.
The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind. 
He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night. 
“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.” 
The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger. 
“What was the cost?” 
He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing. 
You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now. 
All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.
His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey. 
Blood shouldn’t be sweet. 
He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow. 
You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you. 
“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance. 
This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in. 
The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration. 
It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed. 
“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”
“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?” 
A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.
And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him. 
You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees. 
“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?” 
He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.” 
He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.” 
You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance. 
You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it. 
“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them. 
“Don’t,” he lowly warns. 
“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?” 
Another inch closer. His jaw clenches. 
“Sweetheart, do not-”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment. 
The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger. 
Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were. 
But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s. 
That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you. 
He could almost taste you. 
“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”
“I haven’t fed, period.” 
With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable. 
Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger. 
“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone. 
It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch. 
His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.” 
You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer. 
“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone. 
Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him. 
He’s losing control. You’re losing control. 
That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation. 
A road to your hunger. 
You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease? 
Probably. 
He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge. 
His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.
His fangs. 
Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising. 
Come to me. 
“Please.” 
You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out. 
“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.” 
That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now. 
You’re so close. So close. 
“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. 
But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat. 
“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”
“I trust you.” 
You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder. 
“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.” 
He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him. 
His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance. 
All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push. 
“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-” 
He breaks. 
One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are. 
You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you. 
If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure. 
Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment. 
You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper. 
He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you. 
You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them. 
He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly. 
He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being. 
You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you. 
I need more. 
It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his. 
But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously. 
Then take it. 
Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt. 
My pleasure. 
His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. 
Sweet as honey. 
His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words. 
“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 
A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with. 
“Yes, please.” 
He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to. 
And you most certainly did not want to. 
Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control. 
“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.” 
Yes. 
His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.” 
The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously. 
It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this. 
“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.” 
Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy. 
He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters. 
Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts. 
His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure. 
You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.
“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.” 
Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.
Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical. 
He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him. 
The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed. 
It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.
Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine. 
His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood. 
Let me touch you. Please.
You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin. 
“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?” 
“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.” 
You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry. 
And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you. 
One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity. 
You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance. 
He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you. 
The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself. 
“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”
“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.” 
His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares. 
He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his. 
His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth. 
You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him. 
And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure. 
Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.” 
Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it. 
That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed. 
When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you. 
Eddie. 
Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire. 
The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter. 
As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours. 
“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”
The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done. 
He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.” 
“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.” 
“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.” 
Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough. 
The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough. 
Of course, lover. 
That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them. 
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
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restinslices · 4 months
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How’d you think the Lin Kuei boys show their affection to their partner?
It’s kinda short but irl I’m actually so bad at affection, it’s stupid. They all have around 300 words👍🏾
Bi-Han
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I feel like as the Grandmaster and having so many responsibilities, he'd appreciate someone who does things for him. So his way of showing affection is to do the same for them 
Handling chores, leaving you bowls of fruit, cooking for when you return, stuff like that. 
I don't think he's the type to say “I love you much” either. Words are cheap. Actions show you how much someone truly cares 
If you're a fighter, he'd also show affection by tending to you if you're harmed and checking in from time to time 
Also sparring. This may not seem like something affectionate but in his mind, him sparring with you shows he cares about you enough to try and sharpen your skills. It means he cares about your safety. 
Affection to him can be somewhat uncomfortable, so don't expect him to do huge grand gestures. His version of love is more quiet and private. Honestly you wouldn't be wrong if you felt a bit neglected 
Neglecting you wouldn't be on purpose though. He just feels that certain things are unnecessary. Constantly touching, being near each other, whispering sweet things, and all that other type of shit just isn't his vibe. It's unnecessary and it seems like it's more for showing other people you love your partner than actually loving them (his thoughts. I know y'all like to tussle)
You'd have to ask him to do those things if you're into it. Doesn't mean he'll be good at it though 
Since he's such a combat heavy, “I don't want peace, I want PROBLEMS ALWAYS” type of guy I can see him also showing affection by giving you things to improve your combat 
He'd give you weapons that he knows you specialize in. Like, if you're someone who uses a spear, he'd go out of his way to get you a new one. 
His version of affection is subtle but it's definitely there. 
Kuai Liang 
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Kuai Liang is definitely more comfortable when it comes to affection 
I can see him also giving you gifts for combat. Bi-Han gives you things you specialize in, but Kuai Liang is the type to give some of his weapons 
Kuai Liang is gone a lot so I think he'd show affection by giving you things that belong to him so you'll have something to remember him, and you can give him something of yours 
I can see him giving gifts in general to make up for his absence in your relationship. He wouldn't just throw gifts at you though. It'd be gifts he specifically knows you'd enjoy 
Kuai Liang pays lots of attention to you so anything he gives you would be perfect. You wouldn't have to worry about having to fake being happy because he pays too much attention to give you smth shitty 
Memorizes very small details about you too. Does this count as affection? Depends on who you ask. 
He's also more comfortable with being physical so I can see him touching you a lot. No I don't mean sexually. I'd never write such a thing and y'all have no proof 🙄
In all seriousness, I think he enjoys casual physical touch. The type to randomly put a hand on your shoulder or place his hand on your thigh 
Compliments you a lot also. Lots of skill based compliments 
Compliments you on your fighting or hobbies you're improving in. 
I feel like his version of affection is very stereotypical, ya know? The hand holding, the walking alone, the various compliments, shit people think of when they think of a relationship 
I do however think he'd prefer some stuff to be in private. Everyone doesn't need to see you two do everything if that makes sense 
You'd feel very loved with him though 
He really gives me the vibes of a stereotypical loving husband. He's grown. Life is short. Why wouldn't he show you how much he cares?
Tomas Vrbada 
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I think his version of affection would be lots and lots of quality time
He legit wants to do everything with you. Not in a toxic and obsessive way. He just enjoys your company 
He'd probably worry he's being annoying but when he's reassured that it's ok, he's on your heels 
I think he'd enjoy making things with you. Could be jewelry. Could be cooking. Could be baking. As long as it's something together and you can share it, he enjoys it 
He's probably fine with public affection too as long as it's not extremely intense. Don't try to stick your tongue down his throat in public. Have some decorum. 
I can also see him being so in love with someone that he talks about them often. So much so, word would end up getting back to you that he just won't shut the fuck up 
I think he'd be ok with physical touch. I can see him being cool with hanging out and cuddling. It'd be such a change of pace compared to the usual hostile and combat filled life he lives 
He really enjoys your presence and being around someone who's peaceful and doesn't have unnecessarily high expectations of him 
Back to what I said earlier about cooking, I think that would be his favorite thing to do with you. Food can bring people together and inviting you to cook or bake with him brings you two closer. He'd probably let you pick what to make too. 
I can see him doing corny shit too if you asked. Like if you said “hey can you write me a love letter even though we're sitting right next to each other?”, he'd probably say “umm, sure”. 
I just think he'd really enjoy having a person that was just for him and it'd be very very clear 
Similar mindset to Kuai Liang in terms of “why wouldn’t I show my partner affection when I can die at any point?”
I tried to use different gifs than usual but I probably did not😀
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nouvellevqgue · 4 months
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✦ PICTURE ME NAKED
📷: lewis hamilton x reader
💭: everybody loves him and his talent. and of course, the fans love his talent in capturing his girlfriend's moments every time.
‼️: her face claim is taylor russell, age gaps (reader is 27), lovesick lewis, supportive fan, no bad fan behavior here bcs we only want some peace, some curse words.
💌: happy holiday and (late) christmas for those who celebrate!! while i finish my oscar and lando fics, let me treat you with lewis one. hope you enjoy it!💗
₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆。✦˚‎
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username oh motherrr
username she's literally jenna ortega but older version
username i knew why lewis is so head over heels for her now
⤷ username i mean look at herrrrrr
username hey siri can i marry a picture?
username lewis liking this... so that means he followed her fan accounts to see updates or he's just lovesick as fuck?
⤷ username probably just lovesick
username giving mick when laila's fan account's are posting something
username aside from their age gaps, but whatever tho i still like them both bcs i cannot think of any gorgeous couple aside from them rn
username how many years apart are they now?
⤷ username fucking twenty years😎
username she is literally so gorgeous, i'm gonna watch bones and all now
username timothée chalamet and lewis hamilton are those lucky guys who can be with her and she's looking so happy with them
⤷ username she's been with multiple men, but they're the person who can makes her happy
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yourusername 😵‍💫
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georgerussell63 🤣🤣🤣i love the way you captured him like that
lewishamilton Why are you even posting this🤦🏽‍♂️
username THE WAY SHE CHOSE VIOLENCE AJSJAJAJSJ
username but he looks so good in every angles ugh i'm jealooouusssss
username he looks so done
username WHAT IS HE LISTENING???
username lewis taking her pictures: 🥰😍😚💗 meanwhile y/n on the other hand: 💀🤔🤨🫢
username but he looks so good too thooo
username the contrast difference between them both making me cackling so loooud
username me when mercedes lost:
⤷ yourusername Same
⤷ username SHE REPLIED TO MY COMMENT Y'ALL‼️‼️🔥‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️
username good at taking pictures bf + just snap whatever comes gf
mercedesamgf1 🫢🫢🫢
username we got his crumbs but at what cost
username i never expected this would come outta her account but what am i even expecting
username george what are you saying to him
⤷ georgerussell63 I swear I'm not saying anything
username but i love this still 🤣
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yourusername i miss this so much
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lewishamilton no tag?
lewishamilton 🧍🏽‍♂️
⤷ username just calm dooown we're always knew that it was you all along because who could everrr
username i love this type of love language
username when will i ever got a bf like him
username american actress gf 🤝 british driver bf
⤷ mercedesamgf1 what a good combination, right?😉
username this is going to be my roman empire
username yourusername hire him as your photographer
⤷ yourusername Probably one day I will 🫡
⤷ georgerussell63 I agree though don't mind me
lewishamilton added to their story!
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lewishamilton My version of this thing.
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yourusername Oh this is quite low though
⤷ lewishamilton When you got low, I go low-er
⤷ username look what mercedes admin do to a man
⤷ mercedesamgf1 Swear we don't do anything
username not only her skin that's glowing, HER HAIR TOO✨✨
username wondering how did lewis took this since that he's not an actor
username he is so unserious😭😭
username but her face looks more relaxed tho can't lie
username the lightning being so bright just reminds me that he probably taking this sneakily
⤷ yourusername Honestly I know🤷🏽‍♀️
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👤: yourbestfriend
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username plane on a parking lot is my dream
⤷ yourbestfriend i've never thought about that either though🤷🏼‍♀️ it's just so random and spontaneous
username and why is he taking this?
⤷ username i think this was the second pic after the one from the twitter but idk don't come at me
charles_leclerc But really how could you move your plane to a parking lot?
⤷ yourusername By power.
username the plane looks so real tho
⤷ username because it is
username sometimes i wonder is her hair short or long
⤷ username we'll never know about that, next question.
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username i love when she gave no fuck and just put two hashtags and proceed to go
username calvin klein: mmm i just love the taste of nothing
username by the filter i know it's taken by one and only mr hamilton himself with his disposable camera
⤷ username how did u kno?
⤷ username most of her pictures is taken with that camera
calvinklein 🤩
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rosalia.vt muy bonitaaaaaaaaaaaaa❤️‍🔥💕
⤷ username ROSALÍA'S HEREEE
⤷ username we all know because she is def motomami cause he is a broom broom papi
⤷ username the heck u talking about
username literally mother
username that shirt thoo🔥🔥
username now i know why is she paired with him...
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yourusername My favorite colorrrr<33
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lewishamilton replied to your story!
lewishamilton: Since when did you even landed in New York?
yourusername: Yesterday
Oh wait, last night. I forgot🫢
lewishamilton: WITHOUT ME??
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Love you
yourusername: I LOVE YOU TOOOOO
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₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆。✦˚‎
—TAGLIST! @dinosushilun1 @miarabanana @4mula-1 @meowtastick @cabbyhabs @avengers-assemble123456 @4limq @queenofmanydreams
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gothoffspring · 6 months
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baby's first tattoo set! I don't know what made me do this other than I really wanted some more simlish knuckle tattoos (it always leads back to simlish somehow) and it.. escalated into a full body endeavor. You can mix and match these, so they're not just full body! More previews, details and download under the cut! P.S: happy simblreen!!! (this KIND of counts because it has a spiderweb and plague doctor tattoo.. right??)
DETAILS:
these are tattoos for the masculine frame. I will absolutely be re-arranging some things and reuploading a fem frame version asap!
You can choose to pick which categories you'd like them to show up in (out of 4 different slots: upper chest, lower back, left upper arm and left lower arm) or download the merged package.
There are 54 swatches, with two different opacities for some swatches. I tried to give y'all as many combinations as possible, so there's just face tattoos, just chest, just arms, etc and then every single tattoo is also available individually. After calculating the math, that gives you... a fuck ton of combinations probably
for a full preview of all tattoos click HERE. I don't know why I made him naked, my brain did not realize I could show all of the tattoos with him in undies.... I blurred it i promise.
I will most likely never make tattoos again because this didn't spark joy BUT I am so happy with how these came out and I really hope y'all can get some use out of them. Please tag me or mention me if you use them so I can see!
CREDITS:
I definitely did not draw any of these tattoos. All credit goes to gold chain arts, tattoo_paine, maximumblack, woodcutter fonts, malflashtattoo, and simlish fonts found through franzillasims' masterpost right here.
thank you to the lovely and amazing jessie @bibliosims for testing!
also huge shoutout to @/vyxated for the perfect cas background and lighting, idk what i'd do without it now and the mirror background made taking this preview so easy! thank you so much!
DL:
IINDIVIDUAL: SFS / MF
MERGED: SFS / MF
@alwaysfreecc @mmfinds ❤️
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pikahlua · 7 months
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Uh oh, it's sleepy grumpy Pika. Y'all know what that means, right?
It means I have no filter for my opinions.
If you're dissatisfied with the way Katsuki's bullying of Izuku is handled in MHA because you expected him to be confronted by someone else about it in some way, it's probably because you are unaware of the difference between bullying and attitudes towards it in Japan versus in your country of origin. I believe everyone would benefit from researching bullying in Japan. They do NOT view it the same way the west does, y'all.
And I guarantee when you learn about it, you're gonna find some stuff that makes you uncomfortable and horrified, because it's gonna take a while for you to get enough information to give context to a lot of the history and attitudes you'll find. AND EVEN THEN, EVEN WHEN YOU HAVE THAT CONTEXT, you're still definitely not going to like it.
However, with any luck, you'll see how MHA's portrayal of Katsuki's bullying is shockingly sympathetic and heartwarming to many people. It's because, from the perspective of a Japanese audience, Izuku was not targeted and bullied by Katsuki in the way we're used to seeing such situations portrayed in the west. Izuku was bullied by everyone. His classmates, his teachers, the pro heroes he encountered, and society in general ALL participated in the bullying of Izuku, because societal pressures to conform in Japan are MASSIVE, and that can often manifest as one form of bullying or another.
Katsuki's bullying is just the one that the story chooses to flesh out. It's the one that Horikoshi develops. Katsuki is the bully that changes his own perspective first and drastically, the one who realizes the greatness in Izuku and accepts that and comes to his side long before the rest of society can catch up. It is largely understood by the Japanese audience that Katsuki in middle school didn't seek Izuku out and follow him home every day to beat him up; Katsuki mostly ignored Izuku until Izuku would do something to remind Katsuki of his insecurities, and so he would lash out. And no one else at let's say Izuku's middle school would understand the true reason why Katsuki would lash out because what he does resembles what all of Izuku's bullies do to him: pressure him to conform. Pre-One For All Izuku stands out as different and constantly tries to rise above his position to become something society decrees he cannot be. Therefore, a significant part of Japanese society will generally approve of attempts to make him conform, even when some of those attempts are harsh and cruel and unreasonable and reactionary. MHA presents a caricature of that in the form of Izuku's middle school.
The fact that Katsuki identifies this toxic behavior in himself later in the story and decides to actively do something to change it IS the radical part. It's the piece that fits into the themes of MHA. It highlights a generally-accepted behavior in society that maybe society should rethink. It's asking for society to reconsider how it pressures people to conform, that sometimes nonconformity is good or at least should be tolerated to some degree. That's why Katsuki's story focuses so much on how his old behavior stems from fear. From the perspective of a "properly-functioning" collectivist society, pressure to conform should be done for the good of everyone in the society, not out of fear and misunderstanding. Katsuki's character arc provides one potential map for others in society to see the light and get to where he does.
And that's to say nothing of how Japan's versions of confrontation or retribution often look different from how they do in the west, that many of the forms of confrontation some people in the western fandom cry out for with regards to Katsuki sound absurd to an audience in the know. The karmic punishments Katsuki endures throughout the story are often overlooked by western readers, and is it any surprise? That readers from some societies--societies that laud nonconformity, tolerate counterculture, openly criticize the systems that be, preach about individual freedom and responsibility and justice and fairness, and watch and make movies and TV shows and other media about how victims of bullies achieve their righteous revenge--often miss how MHA doles out subtle, divine, poetic, karmic consequences for Katsuki's actions? That such readers often don't feel satisfied by MHA's dramatic ironies which serve more to guide Katsuki in a harmonious, productive direction rather than vindictively punish him and rest on its laurels as it laughs at his deserved misfortune? I don't blame anyone for feeling unsatisfied when their own societies have built up their expectations in such ways, but I do hope to draw your attention to it.
Now, does that mean you have to like and accept the Japanese attitudes about bullying? That you have to agree with the framing of pressure to conform as beneficial and productive? That, if you're triggered by the lack of overt condemnation of bullying in the story, you still have to like MHA? That, if you have personal traumatic experiences with Japan's bullying situation, you should shut up about it and accept that it's a good thing? No! In fact, I personally would hope that you don't! I think everyone should always have their perspectives on ANYTHING challenged so they can rethink and improve them, and Japan's attitude towards bullying is no exception! (And MHA actually does that in its own way!)
(And even saying that, I will always acknowledge that my perspective and opinions on this issue are heavily colored by my own experiences in life and the society in which I grew up and the ideas to which I've been exposed. This is and always will be my bias.)
But the question of what's the correct take on bullying is an entirely different beast. The question at hand here is about understanding the story and its characters as presented in MHA. If you don't come at this with a basic acknowledgement of how Katsuki's story reads to a Japanese audience in-context, you're going to be upset about what you see (which is a reasonable reaction). But I think if you're going to read a story, it's only due courtesy to understand the context surrounding its creation before you try to hold it to far-removed, foreign standards. There's a reason literature classes go over the history and context surrounding the older works they study. MHA is a Japanese story written for a Japanese audience. To focus on how it does not adhere to the typical western narrative of a bully's character arc is to miss the point entirely. If you are reading the story outside of Japan in a language other than Japanese, it is being translated so that you can read a Japanese story, not a story from your own culture. It's rude and self-defeating to expect stories from other cultures to suddenly cater to your own.
TL;DR Understanding the social context that informs bullying in MHA just might actually make the story more comprehensible and enjoyable for anyone who dares to learn about it, what do you have to lose?
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kanmom51 · 6 days
Note
https://twitter.com/parkjmwins/status/1782358915939774874
Idk whether you will even answer this ask or will block me but this is exactly why JK had similar concept pics like Jimin. Jikookers made it to be romantic while Fandom made it to a joke 'JK always copy Jimin' (ofcourse). I've seen you making multiple posts about Jikook concept pics being match is a proof of them being a couple when in reality Hybe don't even take permission of original artist before using their ideas for another. One hybe label just got into trouble for copying newjeans and according to CEO min heejin it was BANG SHIHYUK who wanted to copy newjeans to create a second version of them through illit. And guess what he made sure illit gets 10x more success than newjeans, a 2 day song was already charting in different charts including hot 100. The same bang shihyuk who ignored every bit of Jimin's success but shamelessly copied his ideas and visions of concept pics for another favorite member. He shamelessly asks staffs to copy original ideas of artists who created them and use them for a cheap version of the said artist, Newjeans and Jimin are just examples.
Was it JK's fault ? Not necessarily but unlike rookie Illit he had power and capability to make his own decisions and use his own visions instead of doing what he was asked to do by the staff (his words) but he didn't and sat comfortably while using another person's hardwork. If you still think those similarities were because they were couple then idk what to say because in that logic Newjeans girls and Illit girls are dating.
Talk about TikTok generation ask.
Linking me to a tweet that has zero actual information and/or proper discussion, just stating a fact that isn't necessarily even a fact. Ignoring the full picture (like y'all do when it comes to Jikook as well, btw).
And I also find it so so funny how you are basically hanging your all on something that a very problematic figure within the Kpop industry is claiming, all to try and deflect from despicable behaviour she's being accused of, including using and revealing private info of Hybe idols obtained in illegal and despicable manors, perhaps including having to do with certain private info leaking of certain BTS members (including the one person that you so vehemently claim to love and stand in defense of).
You think that by sending me this link you are proving something?
You say that you read through my posts. Well, obviously you've missed those many posts I've written explaining how JM and JK being a couple can be deducted not from one action or one behaviour alone, but the combination of many many actions or behaviours. A puzzle built of not 10 or 50 or 100 pieces, but one built of so many many more.
I find it funny how with everything that has been going on with JM and JK you guys are still at this.
We're back to JK copying JM.
Like seriously.
Like even if the whole NJ Illit thing was true there was some kind of a comparison to be made with these two men.
Like JK, who's album concept is 180 degrees different than JM's doesn't have stylists at his beck and call to create a concept that isn't a full on copy of JM's. Right down to the studs and colours and minutiae details of some of the outfits.
Like if he did copy JM, that same scorned poor JM (that's how you guys love to portray him, as a damsel in distress awaiting you to swoop in and save him) CHOSE to fly to NY to be with JK and spend Silver day there with him, travel with him multiple times and spend his entire 18 months in the army with that awful copy cat JK.
Your ask tells me that you have zero understanding in human interactions and relationships. JM saying time and time again, JOKING time and time again, about JK copying him, it's a tease but also something that he LOVES. How he inspires JK, how JK perceives him as his catalyst.
But this here, the photo concepts and the whole of JK's wardrobe while promoting, claiming it's all about copying JM is just bull crap. This was planned. And it was planned by the two of them. It's not a coincidence that JM happens to wear the bottom part of a two piece outfit months before JK wears the top part of the same exact outfit.
And if we are talking about copying, is it the concept he's copying or is he so far gone that he's literally copying down to the smallest of details?
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Like seriously. You think that's about copying JM?
Or because it worked for JM so he thinks it will work for him? Literally same hairstyle rocking as JM had in Face? Cause why not use a concept that works? Seriously? JK's all "I should do this cause it worked for JM so it will work for me"?
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Was that what he was thinking when he rocked a highlight of JM's hair colour over the years? That the colour works for JM so I should have a strand of that colour in my hair as well, copying his success? Is that the theory you're working with?
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Or when JK wore the same jacket as JM on Valentines day, you know, in a clip that JM himself records and uploads, that JK also copying JM?
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Babe, this isn't just about the concept pics either. And it's not just about Face and Seven or Golden. Wearing the actual same black leather or leather-like pants just because he couldn't find any other pants? That level of copying? Or perhaps it wasn't about copying and more about mirroring.
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About "You are me I am you", which they have been screaming at the top of their lungs for years now!!!
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It amazes me how you have zero issue in taking an over decade long complex super close relationship (no matter how you perceive it they are super close) and simplifying it into "JK copied JM's concept because JM's concept worked for him", or to even compare whatever went on with JK and JM and those similarities to a claim made (by a disgruntled and caught red handed employee of Hybe) about one new GG copying concepts and whatever from a GG that's been around for 2 years now. No connection between them. No long term relationships between the groups. One group supposedly copying from another. Yeah, definitely the comparison needed to be made between that and Jikook's behaviours or decision making.
How infantile of you.
Oh and that paragraph of yours at the end. Laughable really.
Like I already said, go compare 2 GGs in two different companies to 2 men that have been close for over 10 years now. And let's also disregard the long history of those two doing the similar and same outfit (during official shoots, performances etc, or during their free time) thing and look at this one single concept.
Probably styled (funny how the styling seems to be similar for years now on many occasions, and just with the two of them)
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Not styled.
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These are just examples of MANY MORE instances.
Oh, and I suggest you go read this post too. Not mine, but recently written and oh so relevant to the conversation.
I can't help but wonder how different your pov would have been if one of those two young men was a female. Just thought I would throw that in here too.
But I gotta give you an A for persistence. You guys, you never give up, do you? No matter what JK and JM will throw at you, you will find a way to twist it around to fit your narratives. I guess you also think that JM was forced into enlistment with JK, ah? And their trips together and the content that will drop, also forced on him? I guess him saying otherwise isn't enough to convince you guys either, right? I love the way how you guys are so intrenched in your belief of victimhood that you don't even listen to what JM himself tells you. You love him so much that basically call him a liar. Good for yous I guess.
So, to clarify my answer to you, just in case it wasn't as clear as day already...
You do you, cause nothing I tell you, or show you, or you know what? Nothing that even JM himself will tell you or show you will satisfy you. Because you are living in a self built fantasy of what and who JM is and what and who those that surround him are, all to fit that narrative of yours in which he needs you guys as his saviours and knights in shining armour to swoop in and save him from the big bad JK.
One more thing.
JM's Face was a masterpiece.
We all agree on that. JK included.
He adores JM, he's his no. 1 fan and he's been showing us this throughout 2023.
JK is not a person that would callously copy a concept used by a bandmate just because it succeeded for his bandmate and might work for him too.
Let alone from JM.
His person.
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Not even if, as you put it, he was told to do so by the powers at be (which yeah, he'd tell to go shove it up their asses if they ever did 'tell' him to do that btw, and they wouldn't do it anyway seeing that they know that would be his exact reaction).
So, no.
That is my answer to you.
Just a whole big fat NOPE.
No to copying. And surprisingly no to blocking you.
Yet.
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kradogsrats · 9 months
Text
Aaravos, Leola, and the Entire History of Human Magic
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ALL RIGHT, BUCKLE THE FUCK UP:
So after my "Leola and Laurelion might be the same person" crazy, I was looking shit up to write a post about alternately Laurelion possibly being Aaravos, as in Laurelion was the immortal Aaravos, and Aaravos is the fallen Laurelion, because of this:
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White as the star's heart it pierced, as in "Novablade is white, and the star's heart was also white."
Who... had the white heart of a star...
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... and now... doesn't?
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hmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
However, the problem with this is that Aaravos at least appears to go from powered/heart-ed version:
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To de-powered, heart...less? version:
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...when he's imprisoned. At least, according to the way Zubeia tells it.
Meanwhile, in Ripples, we see what is presumably Aaravos's actual "fall," as the "Fallen Star"—a literal descent from the heavens. This occurs long, long before the events of Aaravos's imprisonment, before dark magic, before Elarion.
I'll note that part of what I'm taking into account here is a note from the artbook on Aaravos's designs:
As a "fallen" Startouch elf, Aaravos can only access a fraction of his former power.
So it seems like the assumption to make would be that Aaravos lost his powers and status when he was cast from the heavens, which is also where I would assume Laurelion dies and Aaravos is "born" if the Laurelion/Aaravos as the same being dichotomy was in play. Then why is his heart not blackened until he's imprisoned?
One possibility is that his empowered appearance is an illusion he's maintaining—another manipulation, that's dropped when he's imprisoned.
Another possibility is this is all bullshit, and everything is as generally assumed before: when Aaravos was imprisoned, the majority of his power was somehow stripped.
Leaving that aside for a moment, let's take a look at the order of operations here, historically.
Humanity looks to the stars to save them, but the stars do not respond:
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— Patience
At some point, humanity is granted some kind of blessing from the heavens, long before humans built cities and became powerful:
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— Patience
ALSO at some point, humanity is granted the power of primal magic. By tradition this was from the unicorns, in particular Leola:
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— Tales of Xadia
However, this magic is forbidden them:
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— Ripples
Aaravos is cast from the heavens in a calamity that creates the Sea of the Castout—again, long before dark magic:
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— Ripples
Further, in the retelling of this story, Aaravos notes that the stars apparently were satisfied with the results of casting him out. It scarred the land, and frightened the humans—and their claim on primal magic—into submission:
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— Ripples
I'll add another note from the artbook here on Aaravos's design:
Some designs had a strong, authoritative vibe that suited other Startouch elves, but not our "fallen star."
Finally, let's look at this again:
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Aaravos, obviously, on his knees and in despair. A feminine-appearing elf who is almost certainly another Startouch elf, by the horn shape and the design of the crown on her brow.
I've seen at least one person cast this as a rendition of Aaravos's punishment, in that she represents the other stars and gestures as if to say "behold how far our brother has fallen."
But y'all. Y'ALL. Please.
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We have seen this gesture FAR too many times for it to be something else, at this point. This is mercy, and love, and the passing of a torch.
So, let me clean this up into what I think happened:
The stars are largely absent gods, indifferent to the fate of humans and interested in only their design/prophecy of the world.
Leola, another Startouch elf (or else we're gonna stretch the definition of "unicorn" pretty far), takes pity on humanity and grants them the secret of primal magic.
Leola is somehow punished for this transgression. If Laurelion is Leola, she is killed. (The Celestial elves, in this case, are the guardians of the stars' order and power in Xadia. They are the last line of defense against this sort of thing.)
Aaravos, who loved Leola, either speaks on her behalf or otherwise rebels against the order of the stars. Aaravos is cast out. If Laurelion is Aaravos, he is robbed of his heart and his power.
"Leola's Last Wish" is to continue to be a guide to humanity, through the darkness.
Aaravos, meanwhile, fucking loses his mind and decides to burn down everything. He will destroy everything the stars put in place in all of Xadia, and he will leverage humans to do it.
Aaravos begins to spin up dark magic, and when the time is right, gifts it to humanity as the inciting action of his plan to tear all of Xadia apart. More on that here.
ADDENDUM: Chatting with @raayllum immediately after writing this and they raised the possibility of Leola being Aaravos’s mother, given the parallel to Sarai in the statue, and YES that makes so much sense. Particularly regarding the star-child constellation, him adopting her crown, and why he might be punished along with her. I like this explanation better than them being lovers, even if it means TDP gains yet another goddamn martyr mother.
Anyway, that's it! Mystery of Aaravos solved.
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rashomonss · 2 months
Text
A HUMANS WRATH
Part XV
previous part
taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchila, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @food-lover9000, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @arcayia, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness, @strawberryfire17, @zenxvii, @misscaller06, @luminarysol, @simpinginthecorner, @your-next-daydream, @bontensbabygirl, @crxwned-mxnarch, @ibtisam-aran, @mochicurls21, @rxsehxney, @xpixie, @ihatecorns, @hello-gloomy, @lunarloathsome, @crazytacokoala, @levia-chan, @bunny-masks-blog
a/n: hey y'all!! yay i finally updated haha….im so sorry it took so long if you’ve been keeping up with my other posts you’ll know that february was not good to me haha
also i wanted to let y’all know that we’re finally reaching the end of this story!! i plan on only making a few more chapters then i believe that’ll be all!
lastly thanks for all y’all’s patience and continued support I love reading every one of y’all’s comments and theories, it means the world! love y'all ♡
warnings: violence, fighting, angst
express just how you feel, don’t bottle it up anymore
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“MC how are you? Even though I previously saw you everyday I’ve missed this you” Diavolo said with a bright smile as you joined him for breakfast. No thanks to Barbatos’ constant pestering.
You gave him a polite smile and nod as a response. It was easy enough to come up with a basic answer that you were fine, even if that wasn’t the case at all.
However as he ranted on about missing you and what activities he’d enjoy doing with you after he finished his paperwork you couldn’t help but feel nauseous.
After all he dislocated your shoulder the other day and now he was acting as if everything was perfectly fine?
Even if it was another version of him it was still him in a sense, which filled you with unease. If that version of him could do something that significant to you without so much as a thought then you had every right to be worried.
Is this how the other version of you felt?
Is that why they hated being touched by any demons?
Another hearty laugh broke out sending a chill down your spine. It reminded you of when he cornered you in the hallway as you tried to escape.
“MC are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale?”
You went to nod but your body betrayed you. A new wave of nausea washed over you and you felt bile rise up in your throat.
“MC…?” Barbatos questioned as he moved closer to you when you ignored Diavolo’s question.
Your fingers gripped the soft tablecloth as you tried to ground yourself. If anything you refused to lose your stomach in front of them.
Both demons looked at each other worryingly and Barbatos went to place a hand on your shoulder for comfort. Immediately you jolted in response and slapped his hand away as a sensation of fear became present in the pit of your stomach.
You had no idea where it came from, much less why you were scared when the butler reached out to help you. But you did know one thing, you didn’t want anyone touching you.
“Don’t touch me!” you yelled.
Your tone of voice startled him and Diavolo but mainly you as well. What was going on with you?
You never acted like this before, even when staying in the other timeline for so long. So why now? Why was everything anyone was doing so triggering you in any sort of way?
“I apologize…I didn't mean to upset you, I only wanted to check if you were okay,” Barbatos replied as he backed off. Even though he didn’t bother showing it, he was clearly worried about your current mental state. It appeared to be out of control ever since you returned. Which was another point he’d have to bring up with him later, since many instructions weren’t followed.
“…I’m…heading back to bed” you replied as you swiftly stood up and made your way to the door.
“But…you just woke up” Diavolo said softly but you were well out of range for his voice to actually reach you.
With a sigh the butler looked to his lord then to the floor. Maybe they weren’t the right demons to welcome you back after being gone for such a decent amount of time. It was better if you were around demons you were used to, ones that were comforting.
So he picked up his D.D.D and quickly called the first demon that came to mind.
___
Seven bodies rushed towards you faster than you could process and some large beautiful roses were shoved in your face as you tried to process everything that was going on.
All seven of your demons began talking at once and exclaimed how much they had missed you.
“Oh MC! I can’t believe you’re back, I’ve missed you so so so terribly” Asmo cried as he clung onto your shoulder.
“Hey let go of them!” Mammon yelled in your ear as he tried yanking you away from Asmo.
“Stop pushing” Belphie groaned as he hugged your frame from behind.
“Mammon stop yelling so loudly” Levi shouted out as he was hugging you from the same side Asmo was.
The other three demons who weren’t suffocating you were also arguing with their brother as they clung onto you. Yelling and shouting could be heard from all around you as you stayed in place watching all seven of them yell back and forth like children.
It was too overwhelming. The yelling in your ear, the way one would hold you tighter if they got mad, the way four of them were putting all of their body weight on you was too much for your liking. And the fact the other three were aggravating the four who were holding onto you.
You felt so suffocated.
You were suffocated in your own timeline due to your willingness to indulge all of the seven demons you lived with.
You were suffocated in the other timeline because you decided to show some demons some kindness they hadn’t experienced for a very long time. Look where that got you. A dislocated shoulder and some unresolved issues that you refused to acknowledge.
You were suffocated with the prince and his butler. They always were on some type of schedule, and when you didn’t follow what Diavolo wanted at that very second, you would never hear the end of it from Barbatos.
Why was everyone so demanding?
God forbid you do something for yourself for once.
You struggled in their grip and tried to get their attention to possibly settle down. The constant loud yelling was getting you more agitated by the minute and frankly you were getting a headache.
Just as you were about to speak someone yelled over you and a fight between two of them broke out. Since you were absolutely fed up with it you shouted for all of them to shut up and pushed them off of you.
Each of the seven demons shut their mouth in an instant and the prince and butler looked at you with a worried expression. Due to that being the same tone of voice you used with Barbatos earlier he knew that something was obviously wrong.
Diavolo then spoke up for you as he walked over to the brothers. “Don’t mind them, a lot is on their mind right now especially since they’ve dealt with so much physically and emotionally these past couple days. So please give MC some space to relax”
You in turn shot him a glare. “I’m perfectly fine. However I don’t appreciate it when someone is screaming in my ear and putting all their weight on me while others are fighting in the background like children”
“How about you head back to the House of Lamentation. A lot is on your mind MC, it would do you good to go rest in a place you’re comfortable and familiar with” Barbatos then added trying his best to ease the tension in the room and change the topic as well.
With a nod you departed with the brothers about fifteen minutes later for a silent trip to the House of Lamentation. Each of them were too worried to bother you so they all left you to do your own thing when you all got home.
However Mammon was still going to try to comfort you in his own way.
“Hey MC, ya wanna hang out and watch a movie? I got a few in my room and we can relax” he asked with a soft smile as she walked up behind you.
“Thanks but I’d rather rest right now, maybe later” and before he could even finish you were off.
It was odd, during any other time you would’ve enjoyed hanging out and relaxing in his room like you used to but as of now you really wanted to just be by yourself.
So quietly you made your way to your room and when you opened the door you were absolutely applauded by the way it looked.
Everything was everywhere and the decorations you had of you and your demons were ripped and taken down. Clean clothes were piled onto a chair and your bed was an absolute mess as a few shits and things littered the floor.
However you were too tired to take care of it at the moment. Due to how emotional exhausted you were a nap sounded lovey so you plopped down and in minutes you were out.
___
Around late afternoon you had walked into the kitchen to grab a snack since you didn’t exactly have much of an appetite after everything that had happened in the past two days. Surprisingly enough two demons were already occupying the kitchen when you arrived, one gossiped and the other listened even though he was believably bored.
“MC” Satan said with a smile, he was very grateful that someone showed up to stop Asmo’s rambling.
With a nod you dug through the fridge and grabbed something to eat and walked over to the two hesitantly.
“What are you both talking about?” You asked after they stayed silent and smiled at you.
Amso was the first to perk up and tell you. “Well we were just talking about some new gossip about this one actor and her husband, some people we know and you…well the other you”
“The other me?” You asked
“Yeah the one you switched with remember.” Satan added.
You nodded and then looked at them before responding. Just how did the other version of you act? Were they like the other Barbatos said? Angry, stubborn, and everything. Did they treat your demons like how they’d treated theirs? So many questions ran through your head at once, but you opted for only asking a basic one.
“So just how was the other version of me?”
“They were a bit intense at first…no I take it back they were really intense at first, but in reality they only wanted one thing in the end then they finally were content” Asmo said as he reapplied some lipstick to his lips.
“Really what did they want?” You asked, now interested in the other versions' motives.
“They just wanted an apology. After Belphie gave them an honest heart to heart in the planetarium they finally calmed down and we were able to be civil with them” Asmo explained.
“Yeah and they even started opening up a bit, although they were exactly like you so learning about what they liked was cute since we already know what you enjoy” Satan added with a smirk.
You tuned out the rest of the conversation they were having with you as you focused on the said “apology” Belphie gave the other version of you.
So it was true and they weren’t lying when they talked to you previously in the attic. Somehow that ticked you off even more.
“Oh yeah and we’re so sorry you had to go through all that crazy timeline stuff dear, I bet it’s been so exhausting huh?” Asmo asked as he rubbed your back.
“Uh huh” you replied and then brushed him off as you excused yourself out of the kitchen without another word, causing the two demons to look at you with a slightly confused expression.
Silently you paced around the house for a bit as you rethought about what the two of them said. With a sigh you ventured into the common room and stared at the fireplace. So you were worth a basic sorry but not one that took responsibility for all the damage they caused you?
It’s not as if their words actually meant anything. Honestly if they had been keen on sweeping the whole incident under the rug then why even offer the other version of you an apology?
They did it to better help them heal?
Bullshit.
What about you?
How come they could do that for anyone else other than you?
When you’ve helped them so much.
Your rage and jealousy had been bubbling up inside you for so long that it finally reached its breaking point.
If anyone was supposed to receive any words or actions of their forgiveness it should’ve been you and you were tired of pretending you didn’t deserve anything less than that.
In a rage you trashed the common room as Asmo and Satan watched in horror since they just happened to walk by.
They rushed to try and stop you but you used your pact to stop them in place as you broke everything in sight. The sound of yelling and glass breaking alerted all the other demons in the house and soon the rest of them watched in awe as you demolished anything in your path.
Mammon ran to you as you ripped the roses they all bought for you and tore them to shreds right in front of them. When he reached you he grabbed you by the arm and you shoved him away and yelled at him in response.
They all just kept getting in your way, it was so unbearable.
As the six demons froze in place due to their activated pacts you picked up one of the large vases Lucifer loved and proceeded to lift it up to throw at them.
“This is all your fault! Look at what you’ve done to me” you screamed out to the six demons standing in front of you. Your cry was not one of just anger, they could sense the sorrow in your voice. The way it cracked and longed to just be healed.
You wanted someone to comfort you and the ability for someone, anyone honestly to just acknowledge what had happened to you. Maybe then if they did you could finally feel like your feelings were valid, rather than unnecessary and pointless.
Fresh tears fueled by pure anger and frustration fell from your eyes as you got ready to swing the vase at the six of them. That was until the youngest brother rushed in front of his brothers and spoke.
“This is my fault MC, please don’t take it out on my brothers” Belphie said as he stepped in front of the six of them, shielding them with his body.
“No it’s not just your fault. It’s all of your faults. Don’t feel too special Belphie, you're not the only one out of your brothers who has tried to kill me.” you spat out.
“Each of you have threatened to end my life at least once ever since I’ve been here, and believe me I haven’t forgotten a single moment of it. Unlike before I continued to ignore what happened just like all of you but I’m fed up now.”
The seven demons looked at themselves then back at you and sighed.
“MC we’re truly sorry, you know we-“ Lucifer began.
“I don’t want your apology. It means nothing to me anymore. Especially since you can go and hand it out to whoever now” you replied swiftly, cutting him off in the process.
“Then if I truly can’t make you believe me I’ll show you.” Belphie then said quickly.
“And how do you expect to do that?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your body.
“Take it out on me.”
“Excuse me?”
“All of your anger, everything you’ve had building up. Punch me, hit me, choke me, do whatever you need to do so that you don’t have to feel this way. I know my apology means nothing to you, and believe me this is much more selfish of me to ask you to do this but I want to make it up to you MC. Even if you’ll hate me for the rest of your life I want you to get the closure you deserve. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you. For as long as I live”
Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to actually respond like that, much less take responsibility for everything that had happened.
“Belphie-!” Beel began, he was still standing back with the others, but the worried look on his face was apparent as he watched his twin pour his heart out to the person they both cherished.
Belphie shook his head at his twin then looked back towards you. “I promise MC, I’ll show you how much of a better demon I can be. So go ahead”
The six demons behind you watched as you slowly approached the youngest hesitantly. Surprisingly enough he still had the same soft smile on his face as he watched you come closer.
Then you swung.
With a swift punch to the face, right on the nose Belphie stumbled back and grabbed his face as a small drop of blood pooled out.
You swung again.
And again,
And again.
As you watched the youngest fall to the floor you continued. And for some odd reason you didn’t feel bad about how beat up he was beginning to look.
Instead you finally felt a form of closure for the first time.
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gloomyluvr · 9 months
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GOODNIGHT N GO
in which miles unexpectedly sleeps over
fem!reader x e-42! miles morales
fluff / kinda angst??
warnings!: none
a/n: hiii ! i promised a post. and even tho it's a week or two late, it's here!! i loved this one btw. heavily inspired by ari's song. it's one of my faves. this took me forever cuz i had so many ideas and versions of it and i couldnt decide which route i wanted to go with it. idk hope y'all like it ig. oh and miles is ooc cuz like... idk how he is.
masterlist
“im sorry for coming over last minute.” it was almost midnight when miles had called you asking for a place to stay the night. you were the only person he knew who lived around this unfamiliar area. 
“no, it’s alright. don’t worry.” you looked down at the floor, avoiding miles’ gaze. admittedly, you were nervous. it was your first time seeing miles after your breakup. which didn’t go all too well, but it’s in the past now. 
“if you’re not comfortable with me staying here, i get it. i’ll find some other place.” miles had noticed your uneasy manner. 
“no! it’s fine! it’s late and i don’t want you out there by yourself” you finally looked up at him, “what are you doing here anyways?” 
“oh uhm, there’s this like robotics competition around here, good prize money y’know?” miles hesitated. 
you knew miles better than anyone, you know when he’s lying. he’s making it so painfully obvious that he’s lying. he was probably here for prowler business. but, it wasn’t your place to worry anymore.
“oh, sounds fun.” 
“your mom won't mind?”
“what?”
“your mom wont mind that i'm staying the night?”
“oh uhm, probably not. she’s at her boyfriends house so…” you shrugged
“oh.” 
 miles stood stiffly in front of you waiting for anything to happen. and you stood, well, also stiffly looking around your living room. god, this was so fucking awkward.
“um well, you can set your bag in my room and i’ll get you some old clothes of yours that i… still have.” you admitted, very very embarrassingly. miles slightly smiled, amused by your behavior. 
you led the way to your room, and miles trailed behind you. as he was walking, he looked around the apartment he once knew so well. he took notice of anything new, whether it was recent photos in frames or decorations your mother put up to match the season. 
once in your room, miles gently set his bag next to your bed. he observed you as you got clothes from your drawer. you were dressed in some graphic tee and christmas pajama pants. which miles so happened to have an exact pair of (maybe because you insisted on matching for the holidays and well, who was miles to deny you?)
“here you go.”
“thanks.” miles took the clothes from your hands and walked to the bathroom.
you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in. why were you so nervous? a couple months ago you guys could act freely around each other and now you guys can barely even make eye contact. there was no denying that you missed miles. you missed the calls that would last for hours. you missed laying together in bed. you missed his laugh. you missed everything and anything about miles. 
you weren’t expecting his call at all. he was the one who decided on no contact after all. and if you were being honest you were mad that he had the balls to ask to spend the night after not talking to you for months. but you didn’t have it in you to say no to miles. 
when miles came back, you were lying on a makeshift bed on the floor scrolling through your phone. it couldn’t have been comfortable. 
“you’re not sleeping on that.” miles immediately advised you. you looked up from your phone with a grin. 
“oh i know. you’re sleeping that.” you got up from the floor and climbed on top of your bed. miles watched your antics with a hand on his hips. you looked at him and he rolled his eyes. 
“well at least i was tryna be a gentleman.” he huffed as he laid down on the floor. you rolled over to the edge of your bed to look at miles who was getting comfy on the floor (which was surprisingly comfortable.)
you wanted him to say something. anything. ask how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to. you wanted to talk to him, tell him the latest drama from your school. anything that would break this god-awful silence. but, nothing ever came. it was late, and if he wasn’t gonna try anything, neither were you. 
you looked at miles’ face, admiring your favorite features of his. he quickly took notice and looked back at you. miles smiled nervously, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his cheeks turned red because of your gaze. fortunately for him, you were as giddy as him, if not more. your cheeks also blushed up and you just couldn’t handle it.
“stop looking at me like that!” you cried before hiding your face in your covers.
“what! ¿qué hice?” miles chuckled, throwing his hands in the air in defense. 
“you know what you did!” you insisted with your face still buried in your covers.
“ ‘m sorry i can’t help it.” he whispered. you shifted to your lay on your side, facing miles.
“miles you can’t say that.” you whispered back. 
“why not?”
“miles…” 
“i know, i’m sorry.” miles mumbled. 
and once again, silence filled the room. you could hear miles’ soft breaths and you were sure he could hear yours.
“k pues, goodnight.” 
“goodnight, y/n/n.” 
15 or so minutes had passed and you still couldn’t sleep. you were tossing and turning on your bed. why couldn’t you sleep? is it because it’s so cold even though it’s august? or was it the fact that your ex was sleeping on your bedroom floor? probably the first one. you shivered, trying to find some warmth within your blankets. why was it so fucking cold? you sigh, there was only one way you were gonna be able to sleep tonight. 
“miles?” 
“hm?”
“you awake?”
“yeah, can’t sleep. why?” miles waited for a response but all he heard was shuffling. then, he saw you standing over him with your pillow and an extra blanket.
“can i sleep with you?” miles nearly jumped at the offer. how could he ever reject you? 
“yeah of course.” miles made space for you on the ground and you quickly set your pillow down next to his. you got under the same covers as him with the extra you brought being quickly discarded. 
it wasn’t until you were fully settled in that you realized your position. your face was merely inches away from miles’. though it didn’t bother you like you thought it would and miles didn’t seem bothered either. in habit, you rested one of your legs over miles’. instinctively miles wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you in closer to him. you brought your hand up to caress miles’ cheek. you closed your eyes as miles rubbed circles on your waist with his thumb.
you missed this. so did miles. but as long as he was the prowler, he couldn’t be with you. despite how much he wanted to. 
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ysabelmystic · 11 months
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“I just came from r/196” ask game
Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.
Name? Frankie
Pronouns and gender? he/they/it, transmasc
Sexuality? Lesbian
Country? USA
Top 5 fandoms? Bungou Stray Dogs, Cosmere, All for the Game, Fundiesnark (not a series but I'm too deep in it to not consider it a fandom), .....the tornado fandom? (they're my special interest)
What is your Most forbidden snack? The preserved bones at the Atlanta Bodies Exhibition. They looked so crunchy...
Would you pet a bug? If it's big enough, it is pettable.
Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. I like to drive around rural areas and photograph old, sometimes abandoned locations in the dead of night. I have been literally chased out of towns by foot and by car on two separate occasions. The second time this happened, "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus came up on shuffle and that's the soundtrack my friend and I tore out of town to. Also every "guy" I've dated except for my most recent ex (who has big egg energy) is a lesbian now.
What does the color blue taste like? Creme brulee
What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The appalachian mountains of Tennessee in the middle of summer. There's kudzu everywhere. On the backroads, there were several old, dilapidated Baptist churches barely hanging to the side of the mountain. I wonder how many of them were still in use.
What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? Short version: my friend's house almost got broken into by this dude who'd been stalking us for months while we were home alone. Instead of calling the cops, we decided to confront him with a bow and arrow (me), a hatchet, and a baseball bat (him). The plan was that if it went badly, we would simply throw his corpse into one of the many lakes in the neighborhood and let the alligators eat his remains (this was Florida). Why? Because we were afraid of having our home-alone privileges revoked. Luckily for us all, the guy fucked off and we never saw him again.
Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? My ex thought that Jackalopes were real. Also, a nurse I was doing rotations with apparently thought that "Witness Protection" was for Jehovah's Witnesses.
Hyperfixation song? Young Enough + Bleach by Charly Bliss
Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? Profile pic; I'm transmasc and I'm currently obsessed with TriStamp. Username; It was my fake internet name when I was like 13. I won't change it because I want my mutuals to recognize me, and because I do have a viral post associated with this name.
Dream career as a child? Doctor (funnily enough I'm now in nursing school)
Dream career as an adult? Professional Jester. Not a comedian. I just want to be some weird little guy who dresses silly and you can hire me to roast your boss at work parties.
Thoughts on cilantro? Delicious
Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I honestly can't remember? Probably... but in recent memory I've mainly banned people from places.
What is your cursed food combination? Pineapple on a hotdog with grilled onions. It Slaps.
Trans rights? TRANS RIGHTS
Tagging: @rocket-mankoi @mostlymarco @atleast8courics @jazzlike39 @gemsweater72 @limbobilbo @ameliaaltare @redcrane112 @theoneofwhomisblue @twinkenjoyer @theultimatecarp and anyone else who wants to jump on
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shadeysprings · 6 months
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Deal or No Deal.
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—Pete Brenner x F!Reader
Summary — You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make him say yes.
Warnings — implied noncon/dubcon, coercion, power imbalance. There may be more that I forgot to mention but please read with caution.
Word Count — 986
A/N — Another impromptu fic because the muse was calling for it. Plus, the babies were wanting and who am I to say no and not deliver. Un-beta and no editing has been done so may be sloppy. But we all love some slop anyway haha!
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️
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The bored look on Pete’s face has you feeling even more nervous since you walked into his company. You never should have agreed to take on this project, you should have just stayed quiet and allowed Janice to take it. But no—you had to be proactive, you had to shove it in her face that you are just as good as a sales rep as her, maybe even better. Yet now, as you continue on with your spiel, the presentation you’ve worked so hard on only looks to be going down the drain. 
“Next slide.” Pete says, making you stutter in surprise but simply doing as you’re told and leaning down on your laptop to tap the key. The audible groan that emits from him has you edge as you do.
“Our product not only surpasses the ones like it but it’s tested and proven to do more.” You say with the remaining enthusiasm left in your system. “If you can see from the studies we’ve conducted, Jan—”
“Yawn.” Pete utters while actually doing so, leaning against the seat and resting his elbow atop the table, his cheek leaning on his fist. “Is there any version of this where we end up fucking?”
That stops you. Your brows furrowed in confusion with the words that just rolled out of his mouth. 
“Excuse me?” You say, disgust and shock curling in your voice.
He chuckles and stands from his seat, exaggeratingly stretching his arms before walking over to you at the end of the long table, fingers grazing over the wooden surface.
“You heard me. That presentation of yours? I’ve seen so many just like it from so many people who, just like you, are desperate for me to say yes.” You hear your heart beat frantically against your chest as he comes closer, your feet taking a step back but no more further as you’re suddenly frozen in place. 
“But just like them, I’m going to say no. You know why?” 
You don’t know if he’s asking a serious question or simply playing with you, trying to intimidate you with the unknown power he holds over your head. 
You don’t respond.
“Let me tell you why. Because it’s boring.” His words are like a vice to your chest. “I’m sure you’ve spent all night perfecting this powerpoint and practicing that speech, but, it just ain’t selling. Nothing about it interests me. Nothing about it makes me want to throw my money at it. And nothing about it makes me say ‘Wow!’”
His large hands trace the edge of your laptop before shutting it close, the room going dim, except for the light coming from the projector as your presentation vanishes.
“Nothing about them draws me in. Except you—” The way he says it makes your skin crawl and you take another step back when you see his eyes run up and down your figure, trapping his tongue between his teeth in the process. “There’s a fire in you. Like you would do anything to prove yourself.” He teases. Stopping just in front of you and framing his hip with his hand, in a way that has you seeing the bulge that has formed in his pants, while his other hand taps against the table, waiting, anticipating your next move. 
“So either, you walk out of this room with nothing—a loser like the rest of those chumps waiting outside to talk to me, or you go back to your boss with a big fat sale you can rub onto the one you took this project from.” 
Your hand visibly shakes with the tension that’s swirling around you. Is this what you want? To allow this man to order you around and do as he pleases for the sake of your career? What face would you show Daniel if he says no? Pete is one of the biggest clients he’s been chasing and you’ve been stupid enough to try and show off. 
Letting out a quivering sigh, you bite your lip and place your notes to the side, looking up at Pete’s face before clenching your fists and looking down at your feet. 
“A thousand pieces.” You argue. If you’re losing your dignity, you may as well get something bigger out of it. 
“You bend over this table and show me that ass and I’ll think about giving you seven hundred.” He bargains, a playful smirk forming on his lips—a sign of his victory and your defeat. 
It’s less yet still more than your initial ask. 
Nodding and once more releasing a breath, you lift up your pencil skirt to reveal your backside and lean against the table just like he’s asked. You bite your tongue to stop the yelp that wants to push from your lips when he slaps your ass and whimper in fear and hatred for this man when he grabs you by the waist and presses his clothed erection against you. 
“Make it worth my while, Sweetheart. My time ain’t cheap.”
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“There’s our superstar!” Daniel says in oblivious excitement when you walk back into your department, Janice and the rest of your co-workers looking at you with expectation in their eyes. “Well?” Daniel prompts. “How many did he get?”
“Fifteen hundred with a possible order next month.” You say in resignation and present him the order slip signed by Pete with a note requesting for another meeting next week. Shock fills his eyes as he stares down at the paper before he punches the air in obvious celebration.
“No fucking way!” Janice says in disbelief, yet the others surround you, bidding their congratulations. 
“What did you tell him?” One of your co-workers asks.
“What did you do?” Another.
“She did her fucking best, that’s what.” Daniel says in excitement before hugging you tight. “I never doubted you one second, champ. I’m glad I gave you this account.”
If only you can say the same.
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stars-in-a-jam-jar · 4 days
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Moar Buddy Dawn Shit in relation to this post
Buddy was dead for about 10 to 15-maybe-20 minutes. Kristen and Gorgug at the top of Freshman Year were only dead about 3 to 5 minutes and they still got some form of time in the afterlife, (side note: Gorgug not knowing what Orc Heaven looks like and being Deeply Fucking Terrified and shellshocked by the entire experience is So Juicy To Me, like. Something that should by all rights be familiar to him being foreign. Of deep spiritual significance, but not in the way it was 'supposed to be'; he didn't even know how it was 'supposed to be' at the time or after he learned it, he's still not really sure if it was ever a 'supposed to'.) so I'm quite sure Buddy experienced Something beyond the grave and chose to leave it for this nameless aspect of Ankarna. The version of her which exists as a result of her complete death and incomplete resurrection/preservation.
In that 10 to 15 minutes, Buddy passed into the place he was going. Perhaps some cornfield out on the edge of Helio's domain where Helio figured 'I'll get to him or he'll find me sometime, there's literally infinite time here'. Perhaps as a petitioner on the Astral Sea- wait, no, I'm thinking about Rolling With Difficulty cosmology, the Astral Realm is not a sea in Fantasy High. (also go listen to Rolling With Difficulty) Regardless of if he went to the afterlife the adults all told him he'd go to if he'd been a good boy or to some more limbo-like place, he had just enough minutes for the reality to sink in that he's Dead. He's dead and the feeling of a hand gripping his shoulder as if to hoist his assailant high enough to slit his throat presses like a cold weight on his skin. As if this body has skin, no, he's just a solid soul given form in this place.
So jarring. Resting dead in some corner of the cosmos like finding the one empty room at a big loud party where you've mostly been taking things in, sticking close to people you know, not doing anything you're not supposed to. Sitting down on the unfamiliar furniture or swaying idly in place as you listen to the murmur of this foreign world around you. Only it's not like that, not truly at all. You're not at the party anymore, the echoes of your life aren't some thing you're taking a break from to rejoin or building up the nerve to excuse yourself from to get a proper change of scene. There is no going back or moving forward.
He's dead. Buddy Dawn is dead.
How many minutes did it take him to lose composure? Did he even? When the ultimatum was posed to him, did he harden his heart to any regrets about abandoning his original faith, or did he relax into knowing he could live again, in service of something that reached for him and he reached back towards?
Why was he so chipper saying 'Dang, y'all, I worship a nameless god of rage.'? He didn't sound horrified by his decision in much the same way he didn't sound in touch with reality when he said 'Sometimes I raise my hand and magic that burns folks to a crisp comes out, but that's just the lord Helio working through me.' His death didn't change him so much as it fixed his gaze onto something new.
He is still a Cleric. Through and through. His soul needs a divinity to latch onto. And this is the first time he has latched onto a divinity wholly and completely for himself. He was not taught how to live for himself. He was taught how to live and die for a cause. For Helio. He earns a nice afterlife via sacrificing his autonomy to whatever the church tells him is good and right.
But he doesn't want a nice afterlife.
He wants another life.
And he no longer has faith that Helio will deliver him from any hardship, because even after he's just barely grasped how dead he is and has been for the past 11 minutes, his soul is wrent into an ultimatum by a different power. Go back to his body and continue living under a new banner, or be trapped in a dark, solitary purgatory which his soul may never be free from.
It's an easy decision, really. Barely requires any thought, only following a feeling. He no longer wants to stand by the god who allowed him to die so unceremoniously and so unfairly. He honestly feels more betrayed by Helio than he does by Kipperlily. Kipperlily hardly made any promises to him, just asked for him to be the party's cleric. He never expected her to do that, sure, but... His whole life he was promised that every bad emotion he ever felt in response to every wrongness in his life would (should, must, has to) simply evaporate away in the golden light of the corn god. And it's been an eternal 12 minutes, but he only feels worse and worse.
And if all Helio could promise him was a flat expanse of farmland overseen by someone who didn't even properly greet him when he walked in (if the celestial bureaucracy were even doing their jobs and funneled the soul of Helio's cleric to Helio instead of some cosmic waiting room or other), but this nameless deity can promise him a life for himself? Then by god he's taking that ultimatum, come back to life, sit up with a slightly surprised little smile and announce to the world (as he has been taught is right to do when you are devoted to a god) 'I worship a nameless god of rage!'
And he'll be happy with this choice-that-is-not-a-choice which he was betrayed and coerced into. Because it truly feels self indulgent to choose anything. To choose ragefully living for himself instead of obediently dying for an unfulfilling promise. He'll choose the intensity and the darkness because the gentle constant pressure cooker of walking in the light gave him nothing but sunburns and a slit throat.
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respectthepetty · 3 months
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Pit Babe Colors Ep. 12 The Black Parade Episode
I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Y'all done told be EVERYTHING, so I know the entire plot now.
THAT WAS A TEAR! KENTA IS CRYING!
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I thought it wasn't just sweat last week but knowing he is actually crying as he thinks about their past did immediate damage to me, and now they are ALL standing there in the dark with Way and Pete highlighted by the blue, and, and, and . . . Kentana are you gonna die? You and Waymond are stressing me the fuck out!
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Now that I know they are both enigmas, I can't see them the same. Are they using their superpowers on each other right now? Are they reading each other's minds? Are they trying to figure out how to get Kentana back, so they can make this poly?
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Kentana, how many times are you going to have this man spit in your face before you realize that he ain't shit? Go to your room, turn on Billie Eilish's "Happier Than Ever" and really hear it. "Never told anyone anything bad cause that shit's embarrassing. You were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad."
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The blue keys in front of the red product placement is all I need to be reminded that this show refuses to allow me peace.
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Shocking absolutely fucking nobody, Kentana did not listen to "Happier Than Ever"
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And now someone is gonna die because there are only so many ways for you and Waymundo to redeem yourselves, and if you have Jeffrey in all black, I'm worried it's gonna be your funeral we will be planning next, Kentana.
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There is one episode left and I am death gripping the one time Vegas' Hedgehog wore blue because I will never get it again. I hate them.
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Real question: Is Barbie pregnant? I know he is sad Charles is "dead" *eye roll* but he is taking pills, getting fruit thrown at him, and staring out into space. I would love to believe he is going through his Edward-left-Bella-so-she-was-super-duper-sad era, but now that I know pregnancy is on the table, that's all I can see.
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Oh, thank goodness! Someone actually has a tracker on his phone! But Kimberly has been kidnapped, caught up in human trafficking, and is now beating up children. Bro, what was your life before it all went to shit? Do you ever call your mom and tell her these are your friends now? Are you even still racing? Nevermind. Go catch those kids.
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The problem with black is the shades. Waymond's jacket looks green. Peter's pants look blue. And yet it still feels like we are preparing for a funeral. A real one this time. Not fake like someone else's *cough* Charles *cough*
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Kentana, are you betraying Jeffrey as Big Red watches? Or are you asking him how Peter's been? Has he been well, without you? Is he dating anyone? What is his status with Way? Well, Jeffrey wouldn't know, but Peter x Waymond could be poly if you get out of that fucking house and stop kidnapping people!
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Going from Kentana in that House of Horrors to Pete looking like this makes me understand why Kentana is out there kidnapping people. I'd feel some type of way too if my childhood crush looked like this and was getting chummy with a dude who looked like Way Way. Damn.
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What the hell is this?! The cover of a boy band album? A meeting to discuss poly? The Thai version of Barbie where Ken(tana) explains why he won't leave the Mojo Dojo Casa House? AND WHY ARE ALL OF YOU WEARING BLACK?! Someone is gonna die.
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Did Big Red know Kentana went to see Barbie and the other Kens?! Was he sent there by Big Red?! Kentana is really breaking my heart on his knees hugging this man like this. I want to slap Kentana all the time, but I also want to hug him and tuck him into bed with a moon nightlight calmly lighting up the room.
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Let's stick him in a video game, so he can learn to love himself.
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Push him down the stairs, Kentana! Do it. PLEASE! Shoulder check his ass at least.
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Oh Lord, NO! Waymond, do not take a fucking bullet for anyone. You canNOT die by Whiny Winifred's bullet. I refuse to let you go out like that. You finally used your powers for good, but this is not the time to die.
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Y'ALL DIDN'T EVEN GRAB THE BAG!
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This is Mission Kim Possible all over again! How do you not grab the damn bag?! Waymundo looks so damn good in his suit, so thank God he is still alive, but what the fuck guys?! One job! SECURE. THE. BAG.
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I hate how good everyone looks in black because I keep swinging through emotions. I'm terrified for everyone yet very attracted to everyone. All the guys connected to Big Red have been in black this episode regardless if it was their color or not, so I'm hoping that means the funeral will be Big Red's.
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A cult meeting, in this economy? Villains make the dumbest decisions.
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Waymond has some white on . . . over black. Please Mary, mother of God, do not let him do something stupid.
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Alan, did you just say "eff them kids"? No. Not my Alan. He'll be back for them. Right. Right?
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Peter is gonna Regina George his way into this Halloween party that he was not invited to just to cause some havoc. Mad respect.
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WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!
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How the hell did Charles get there?! Did Barbie's dad tell him to go to the cult meeting? Dressed like that though? Did his spidey sense go off? So many questions, but all I know is Kentana better let them go, so he doesn't have to die.
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Whiny Winifred better not get better at aiming in the final episode because I still need both of these two to wear blue TOGETHER.
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WAYMOND, NO!!!!!!!!!!
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Good to know it only took being kidnapped twice and (possibly) someone dying for Jeffrey to finally commit to the blue.
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My nerves are wrecked. There was too much black this episode. Someone is going to die, and as much as I want it to be Big Red, I just don't feel good that Kentana is still on his bullshit, and Waymond keeps jumping in front of guns. Peter needs both of his boyfriends to live.
Also, Barbara, I already know you are immediately going to hug Charles next week, instead of having a moment to be pissed all the way off at him like you should be, so I'm going to start meditating on that right now. I've been mad at Charles the entire season, so I'll hold this grudge for both of us in the finale.
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your-next-daydream · 2 years
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Wade Wilson x equally chaotic reader hcs 👀
AH MY FIRST ASK! Thanks for requesting bro!
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Ok you didn't specify if you wanted platonic or romantic? Soooo imma do both😃
Reader has no specified gender
Platonic hcs
Oh? Do you want to leave the house without a warm Wade Wilson goodbye? No, you're going to get a hug that smells of cocaine and weed. Upon finally leaving, you hear, "Bye kiddo, make sure you get in trouble for Papa!" With an over exaggerated kiss blown your way.
"Hey kiddo, have you seen my katana...kid? Why is my katana in that guys stomach right now?" He said with a hand in his hip. "I don't know. I got bored, and he was conveniently placed there."
Chimichangas for breakfast and dinner. Lunch is a healthy dose of some sort of drugs or killing. There is no in between. Desert is rom-coms and tears don't forget to say hello to his unicorn.
You help blind Al around the house but for fucks sake quit making so many sex jokes around that poor lady.
please...clean Wade's suit... it smells horrible
"Hey Wade, want to go TP and throw eggs at the X mansion with me? Colossus pissed me off again." You muttered, grabbing some of Al's eggs promising you'd pay her back later. "Umm fuck yeah I want to! Just don't hit pinky pie or teenage angst they'll have my head...well they kinda can, I can just grow a new one!"
You joke about getting avocado lotion for him. "Hey, Deads, I got this avocado scented lotion for you. Maybe some pheromone shit will happen, and you won't look like a dumpster fire anymore." He whipped his head around, grabbing where his heart is and stumbling around,"wounded"
You cut Wade's arm off once just to give it to a bad guy asking, "Need a hand?" While Wade came up behind that person killing them.
he takes you to the bar with him, and you both get on Weasel's ever loving last nerve. I mean, he's both of y'all's arms dealer. Why not mess with him?
there was a fight Wade started in the bar, once where he broke his leg off and just started beating people with it.
Romantic hcs
What's personal space? He's always touching or hugging unless you specifically tell him not to.
you reassure him that he's still a handsome man. You lightly pick on him for being an old avocado, but that's about it.
he gives you his unicorn and whatever else of his you want before he leaves for a mission.
there was a time when you came with him and you both got captured. You're actually the one who figured out how to escape...he was just gonna cut himself up to fit through the bars.
sex jokes? Oh yeah, all the time. You can't stop this man he's hitting on you like you guys are at the bar, and he's trying to take you home. You shock him if you return the same energy.
makes sure you're asleep before he even thinks about going to bed himself.
you and him took a pole dance class so he could show off, and he wanted to see you move like that.
he had a funny idea to put his mask on you during a mission, and it was funny watching another version of himself walking around killing.
Do you know those hugs where you get picked up and are just held there for a while? Yeah, that's him, except his face is in your chest no matter what it looks like.
Colossus has walked in on you both making out and out of embarrassment. You attempted to cover it up and say, "You wanna join?" But Wade went along saying "Yeah big boy, wanna have some funnnn?" You hit him on the head.
Pizza and movie dates. It doesn't matter where y'all are you guys are going on a date if he can help it. He thinks it's cuter when you set things up.
Oh, someone hurt you? They never existed. He knows you can handle yourself he wanted to take care of it.
He'll buy you Deadpool themed merchandise ALL. THE. TIME. You like are running out of space for it at this point.
There's a hoodie with his logo on it and he's definitely fucked you in that hoodie before.
He probably would like running a knife or a gun down your sides. The gun is never loaded, but you don't know that.
knows he could get out of it, but he thinks it'd be fun if you tied him up.
Oh, I'm definitely thinking about his stamina and strength...
After y'all do have sex straight to the bathtub or shower to get cleaned off. He could care less, but he knows you want to be clean.
CUDDLE SPOONING KING
He'd like to be little spoon sometimes. Other than that, he likes laying between your legs with his arms around your waist to make sure you can't leave in the morning.
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mugeesworld · 1 year
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Sanji with a chubby partner head cannons!
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Omg guys. I'm getting way more likes and followers then I thought I would! I'm so thankful😭♥︎. Y'all are so kind tysm! Writing is a big outlet for me so to see other people enjoying it makes me so happy!
I also have a wattpad if you're interested! It's called heeheemugee. And I have a few stories there. Tysm once again. On with the head cannons.
NSFW (you've been warned) female y/n (as always if you want a Male y/n version or gender fluid version let me know!) ♥︎♥︎♥︎
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Sanji is my all time favorite character so I will most likely be adding to this whenever I have a idea😍 he's sooo baby girl
And ik sanji goes for "skinny" girls but I'm here to tell you. He would love, worship, praise, the ground you walk on hunny. Theirs not good plus size representation in one piece and that's what you're gonna be. You're gonna be the goddess that walked in and changed that! As you fuckin should??!
Imagine. You recently moved to a small island to get away from your troubles for a while. You got to relax everyday. Taking in the beautiful sights of nature while there and living peacefully in your small hut.
Like any other day you decide to go for a walk and pick a few apples from a apple tree that was near your house. You grab your basket and cute little hat and skip along the streets making your way to your favorite tree.
The straw hats recently made it to this island while exploring the grand line. As per usual sanji was making his rounds to buy more food for their long journey.
While walking around the island in search of different food stands he comes across a single apple tree. I'm sure the owner won't mind if I take a few! He thinks to himself, walking towards the tree.
He starts to pick a few apples putting them in his basket when he hears a sigh coming from the other side of the tree. He looks around to see a gorgeous lady trying to grab a apple that was just a little to high for her to reach.
He stares for a moment taking in the gorgeous sight in front of him before shaking his head and helping the lady. "Here! Let me!" he says grabbing the apple and reaching his hand out to give it to her. "Oh! Thank you!" you say happily excepting the apple from his hand.
You take a closer look at him since he doesn't look familiar. He feels his cheeks starting to get warm as you scan him. "You're not from here are you?" you finally ask. "No- No I'm not. Im here picking up food for my crew!" he says anxiously.
You give him a warm welcoming smile. "I see! I hope you enjoy your stay! This tree isn't owned by anyone so you're free to take as many as you would like! Need help?" you ask putting down your basket.
Sanji feels his heart race seeing your beautiful smile. As if your face could get any prettier. That smile proved him to be wrong. It most certainly can.
"Sure! I would appreciate that..." he says scratching his neck. (You're making bro nervous 😟) you nod and start picking apples and putting them in his basket. While doing so you both finally exchange names.
"So Sanji..." you say making his spine shiver hearing his name roll of your tongue. Something he wish he could hear 1,000 more times.
"Are you the chef?" you ask. "Yeah I am. Why?" he asks. "Well I'm guessing you're a pirate then right? Taking these apples like this on sea. They will go bad very quickly. I can show you how to make them into apple sauce and then how to can them. They will last way longer. Plus it's delicious!" you explain.
Sanji thinks for a moment. She's right. These apples won't last long. And I get to see her longer.... "Ok! Sure!" he says excited to learn.
You smile and grab your basket. "Great! I'll show you the way to my house and we can start!" you say grabbing his hand to show him the way.
Sanji nearly jumps out of his skin feeling you grab him like that. You're hand is so soft and small against his. (I got big hands😞) He never wanted you to let go. He wants to stay like this forever.
As y'all walk down the street y'all talking more about canning sorta going over how it will happen. You see sanjis forehead sweating in result of the sun beating down on y'all. You suddenly stop catching sanji off guard as he turns around to see why you place your hat on his head.
"You need it more then I do!" you say before continuing down the path. Sanjis cheeks go red at your sudden act. How sweet he thinks. Y'all arrive at your house and you start to show him how it works.
Once y'all are finished he tastes the apple sauce. To his surprise it was amazing. "Holy crap! This is amazing y/n!" he nearly yells. You laugh at his reaction. "Oh stop it's just a simple apple sauce nothing crazy. But now that you know how to make it. It should help your crews food last longer!" you respond.
You put the apple sauce into jars so they are easier to store. As you turn around to hand him the case of jars you notice he has apple sauce on his upper lip. You put the jars down while laughing and quickly wet a rag.
Sanji turns his head. Confused at what you're doing. "What is it?" he asks. You continue laughing while making your way back towards him with the wet rag. "You have some apple sauce on your face. Here." you say before grabbing his face with one hand and wiping it with the other.
Sanji starts to have a overload while you do this. Blushing like crazy until his nose starts bleeding. "Oh no. Are you ok???" you ask scared as the blood starts pooling out of his nose he take the rag from your hand and nods embarrassed. "Y-yeah! This happens sometimes haha!" he yells trying to play it off.
You quickly grab a first aid kit. "At least let me patch your nose." you say taking out some supplies. You try to walk over to him but he quickly jumps back. "No no. Don't come any closer y/n." he says panicking.
Y/n gives him a confused look. "But why I just want to help? Did I do something?" you ask.
"No! Well yes.... But no! It's just.... You're making me flustered y/n and it makes my nose bleed.... Sorry" he admits. You continue to look at him confused. Flustered? But why....
"How do I make you flustered? I haven't done anything..." you ask. Sanji sighs at your cluelessness.
"You... You make me nervous....Cause you're so... Gorgeous." he finally admits. Your eyes widden. Gorgeous? No one's ever called you that before. Could you really make someone that nervous to make their nose bleed just by your beauty??
"Well... Can you close your eyes? Please so I can help you?" you ask still desperately wanting to help him. Sanji thinks for a moment before closing his eyes and removing the rag.
You slowly make you way over to him. Putting two pieces of tissue in his nose and wrapping under it so it stays. You tell him your done and he opens his eyes. Before you can say anything he leans in and kisses you.
Placing his soft lips on yours kissing you passionately like he's been waiting for this moment his whole life. You we're surprised at first but start to kiss back.
Y'all pull away to get air. "Y/n you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen. I'm never felt this way about someone in my whole life. I don't want to say goodbye to this. I don't want to see you go...." he admits holding you by your waist.
"Come with me. Join my crew! I'll keep you safe. We can sail the sea together and most importantly be together y/n. I don't want to leave you!" he says. You widden your eyes. Does he really like you that much.
You've only just met this man but he seems so genuine. Like someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. You've only talked to him for a couple's hours but the time you've had together and what you've learned about him means so much to you. You don't want to see him leave either.
"Yes" you whisper. "W-what?" sanji asks not thinking he heard you right."I'll go with you." you say looking up at him smiling. Sanji picks you up and sways around the room as y'all laugh together.
He suddenly puts you down getting serious. "Theirs one more thing I have to know y/n before you come with me..." he says looking at the ground. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks smiling at you.
You throw your arms around him and place a kiss on his cheek. "Of course I will!" you nearly yell.
And CUT. AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!
Sanji just loves you. Home boy is obsessed with you. Everything about you. He can get enough. Your a addiction he don't want rehab for. It's almost unhealthy how much he loves you.
I can't put it in to words how much he would worship you. He can't believe you're real. He's scared your a dream and he's gonna wake yo with you not there. He treats every day with you like it's his last and saviours you every second.
He is so clingy. He can keep his hands off you. He would try to be respectful about it. But he just wants to tear you apart man. He wants to grope and grab every single inch, cm, mm of your body. Not one spot going uncherished.
Everything you do he finds attractive. Walking? Hot. Pushing hair out of your face. Hot. Sitting still. Hot. Literally doing nothing at all. Hot.
When he first seen you naked he has to get a look from every angle. To just take it the beauty. He had you stand in the middlebof the room. And he just walked around you. Taking it all in. Even getting on the ground or standing on a chair to see it from there. Nothing will go unnoticed.
Making sure to rub his hands up and down your body praising a worshipping every single inch before railing you.
I usually put in what I think the characters favorite part of you would be but lord. I can't pick. Cause he would love all of you. He would shoot himself in the head before answering that.
It's not possible to choose ONE thing that is better then the rest of you cause all of you is perfect to him. He sees no flaw.
He loves holding you. Laying on your stomach in between your legs wrapping his arms under your back. While you play with his hair. Makes him so weak bro. Always a horny mess. Always ready.
He probably love quickies. Just to help him get through the day. Cause with you walking around he won't be able to get anything done with out at least pounding into you once. Very very high stamina.
Position? Don't matter. He will do it from any angle you like. The feeling of you wrapped around him is enough. He gets pussy drunk instantly.
BIG AND I MEAN BIGGGG moaner. He don't care he letting everything out. He can't help it. He whimpers and whines for you. Breathing heavy. Trying to speak but it comes out as mumbles cause he's so overwhelmed by the way you feel.
Oh you're more submissive? He loves taking the lead and teasing/rubbing every inch of your body till you are a pleading mess. Beginning to be fucked. And he does. As a dom he would put everything into making both of y'all feel good. Definitely a service dom.
Any tiny thing you like while having sex he would do just to make it better for you. Whether it's being choked, spanked, kissed. Whatever you want. He's on it. He tries so hard to make you feel so good so he can see your lewd over stimulated face. He loves seeing how his cock makes you all "drunk"
Knowing he fucks you best and no one else can do that. Definitely the type to ask. "Who do you belong to/ who fucks the best?" during sex. Really gets him off knowing your his.
Oh but you're a dom? No problem. He love having a women dominating him. Being told what to do by such a beautiful lady turns him on in ways he can't explain. He wants to fulfill your every need and make you happy.
Anything you say goes. You want on top. Get on. You want to tease him with a vibrator? He's ready on bed. You want him to eat you out he's already laying on his back ready for you to take a seat on your thrown like you deserve.
Even stuff more kinky! Oh you want to peg him? He's down. He probably bi anyways. You can't tell me he's not zesty. I mean look at him! He probably love having you peg him.
The feeling of you driving into him with your strap so aggressively makes him go crazy. Pushing his head into the pillows to avoid screaming. Only thing is he feels bad that you're not getting anything out of it when you really are. So he makes sure to repay you after.
He would call you by whatever name you give him. Mommy? Done. Mistress? Hell yeah. He is down for whatever. He probably even has mommy issues. Look at him. I mean..... Like...
With all of that being said about him wanting to please you. It drives him insane seeing you between his legs sucking him off. He would throw his head back and just whine. He love language might be acts of service but Lord he loves seeing you this.
I'll add more later probably but I'm busy but wanted to get this out! ♥︎
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