#“bloody hands” 🏹

[just-a-mer]

The prince had gone home and spoke to his father later that night, doing his best to propose the idea as proper as he could and not as a lovestruck fool. It was harder than anticipated, but in the end, his father's choice had been influenced, and he tried to hide his excitement.

Once Anticlea and Laertes went to bed, Odysseus snuck out of the palace to return to the olive tree; measuring everything with his hands and arms, drawing lines in the dirt, and transferring each piece to a scrap paper he brought with him. He had only returned home to rest when he noticed the moon beginning to lower. Thanking Selene for her light and the long night, he went to rest.

When the two met the next day, Odysseus was equally dressed up, offering his hand to lead Penelope into the Ithican palace with a smile.

Young Siren!Ody rp/open starter! (Set in the past, of course. Little Ody will not know about future events, but the past... feel free to interact as your present self or as a past version too! Have fun!)

Genre: Fluff?

Word Count: 140

Tw Warning: None!

Odysseus’ small claws dug into the wood of his bow, ears lowered in concentration. His legs were dangled over the edge of a fallen tree, bare feet barely brushing the soft grass. The only other sound between the scraping and nature itself was a quiet melody flowing from his lips. While the lyrics were nothing short of a mumble, they still danced along the wind, carried with gentle hands to greet the ears of whoever listened nearby.

He paused for a moment to blow the pieces of clipped wood from the indentations, wiping the remaining dust out with the edge of his cape before returning to his carving: a series of designs that would not mean anything to the common eye. Forget-me-nots, feathers, scales, and a thick thread all woven together to create a partially completed design on the handle.

Tagged: @totally-penelope-and-not-a-siren @thrpr0phetuseek @jump-into-my-op3n-arms @1ceyanonhasarrived @sleepy-4n0n (let me know if you'd like to be removed - you are also not forced to interact /gen)

[yandere--stuck]

Could you write a few Yandere headcanons for Ragnvaldr? I'm interested in your interpretation of him

🍖 Born with the Soul of The Tormented, Ragnvaldr always knew his life would be forever marred with struggle. Even from his youngest years, nearly dead by his own father's hands during a famine. The thing he had to do to survive… Best not to think too hard about it. As he grew, though, he became optimistic. Comfortable. Happy with the family he had made and the community he had grown into. For once, things were looking wholly up for the Outlander. But, of course, he should have known better. He should have expected tragedy to strike at some point. His family. His people. His home. All gone. All gone, by the command of a fair-haired captain who slaughtered and stole from his people. Consumed by bloodlust and revenge, Ragnvaldr promised to himself and those he lost that he'd get revenge. That he would kill that man with his own hands…

🏹 The Outlander certainly hadn't planned on making friends during his journey into the dungeons, but after coming across you in the courtyards, he found himself drawn to you. Years of experience and tragedy behind him left him with a certain amount of distrust toward others, but something about you lowered those walls, made him want to be by your side. And he had to agree with you - there was strength in numbers. It certainly made the trek deeper into the dark a lot less lonely and just a bit more comforting. It also helped that you were easy to talk to. When you had moments of reprieve, you'd talk about your life on the outside, what brought you both here, what your interests were… Ragnvaldr wasn't exactly ready to spill his soul and bloody past to you (not to mention the exact reason he was there), but… He was able to be himself around you. He talked about things he'd never had the chance to utter in so long. Hell, it'd been ages since he last really conversed with someone, and… Talking to you was both a comfort and a relief.

🍖 The deeper you delved and the closer you grew to one another, the harder and more desperate Ragnvaldr began to fight. This was no longer about just the Knight captain, this was also about protecting his newfound comrade. No matter how strong, skilled, or adept in magic you are, Ragnvaldr will encourage - or, all but force - you to stay behind him or hide to keep you out of the way of danger. It came to the point where he nearly killed the stray wolf down in the catacombs, if it hadn't been for your offering of rotten meat to quell the beast. All the more reason why you made such a great team! Ragnvaldr was a man of action, and someone who was able to step back and attack trouble from a different angle was refreshing and, much as Ragnvaldr loathed to admit, good for him. Good for the both of you, even.

🏹 The closer you grow, the more desperate Ragnvaldr's behavior becomes. He even goes so far as to begin devouring the bodies of enemies so as to allow most of the food to go to you, designating the rotten food to Moonless. He fights with even more determination and fury, not even daring to allow a chance for an enemy to get a hit on you. If you give any signs of wanting to part from him, Ragnvaldr will at first try to subtly redirect your or change your mind, but it won't be long until the Outlander will be begging for you to stay, threatening to harm himself or any allies you've met on your journey. He may even begin to align himself with Sylvian in an attempt to successfully become a marriage with you, if he really believes you'll leave him.

🍖 Whether Le'garde is alive or dead, it doesn't change the outcome. You knew full well by this point why Ragnvaldr is here, and whether you agreed with his methods or not didn't matter… He… He was your friend. He deserved closure. He'd beat Le'garde to death, until his fists were bloody and he was shaking with effort and spent rage. He'd keep going until Le'garde is unrecognizable. The floors, walls, Ragnvaldr himself… All covered with blood. Even if Le'garde was already gone, he'd brutalized the man's body until he's satisfied. Afterward, he'd acknowledge that the captain was good for something, at least - meeting you.

🏹 You are what soothes Ragnvaldr's tortured soul. You're all he had left now. You and Moonless. He couldn't just let you leave! Without you, there was nothing. No reason to go on. You couldn't part now! Meeting each other had to be fate. He could take care of you. Please? You don't think you could really just say no to him, do you? When he was strong enough to break all your limbs or saw them off, leaving you dependent on him forever. Please, just make this easy on yourself. On him. He's been through so, so much. He just wanted to have you. Love you. And he would do whatever it takes to make you realize you and he were meant to be. He'd been through too much to start taking the easy route now…

[b3llb00]

" We Pull The Tail, Now We See Who Bites. "

Robin of Loxley/ The Hood X Fem!reader.

Summary: Robin got injured during a chase to get some coins for the commoners, so Y/N offers to heal his wounds if she gets something else in return from him. ;)

A/N: I need to stop watching this movie, I’m obsessed and it’s gotten the better of me.

Contains: Kissing, 50% dom/sub reader and 50% dom/sub Rob, mentions of sex, injuries. [WILL INCLUDE: Smut, Unprotected Sex (Use Protection, Yall.) P In V, Oral (Male/Fem. Receiving) , Fingering, Creampie, Multiple Rounds. Mild Dirty Talk.]

Wc: 1.2k * I think. * (Will Prob Change.) IM COPY AND PASTING AND EDITING THIS FROM MY OLD ACCOUNT, SO DONT SAY IM A COPYCAT. THE FINISHED IMAGE WILL BE UPLOADED HERE. IF YOU WANT TO LIKE AND FOLLOW ME, LIKE AND FOLLOW THIS ACCOUNT.

DONT REPOST OR COPY MY WORK, YOU CAN REPOST WITH PERMISSION, ENJOY.

(Btw sorry if this picture is bad, just ignore John and pretend it's you lol.)

»»———-　🏹　———-««

You are setting up traps for Robin to shoot at later, when all of a sudden you hear a loud, groan from him coming upstairs, making a shiver run down your spine. When Robin was back in Arabia and you had to fight him, you ended up sparing his life, but your mercy to him didn’t do much as you still got captured and was set sail in a boat with him for 3 weeks. Surprisingly, you too starting talking and some would even call you " friends " .

You decide to go upstairs to see what Rob was groaning about, and there you saw him, shirtless, his toned torso on display. In nothing but his pants with a wet, bloody rag resting on his massive thigh where he been impaled. You had to close your eyes for a second, trying to push the weird desire you had for him to the back of your mind.

I wasn’t joking when I said the treasury itself was a hard target. You say, slowly walking toward him, this made him look up from his leg to look at you. He decides to ignore your statement and press his rag into his thigh further, making him hiss through gritted teeth. You decide to go grab your medical supplies you used whenever you two got hurt. You always had wanted to be a nurse, but ever since the Sherif of Nottingham drafted you, things changed. But I guess it’s pretty useful to know how to properly treat somebody’s wounds.

Hey! You heard Rob say from across the room, Where are you goin-

I'm getting my medical supplies, dumbass. You say back with a bit of an attitude, not wanting to be told where you’re going or what you’re doing when all you trying to do is help. Oh, sorry, love. Carry on. He said, making you turn your head to see a light smile adorning his features.

As much as you sometimes hated Robin's attitude and sarcasm, you just can’t help yourself to be mad at him. It’s almost like you're drawn under a spell that will keep you from ever getting into any sort of confrontation.

You finally got all your medical supplies and you headed to the small table that he sat in on. Letting the supplies fall from your hands, you organized it quickly, while Rob eyed you carefully the whole time.

Once you got everything ready and set up the way you wanted it, you took one more look at his thigh. ' Shit. ' You thought, his cut is too deep to get a good look at what’s going on, so you’re gonna have to find a way to ask him to take his pants off.

The cuts- uhm. You stutter, Your gonna have to take your pants off if you want me to get a good look at it and fix it.

You were looking everywhere except his face, not wanting him to see your blush-coated cheeks. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of your head.

Just the pants or the braies too, love.? He winked at you, causing you to basically turn into putty right in front of him. (Keep in mind they didn’t really have ' boxers ' in medieval England, but they did have what were called braies. They were basically the same thing.)

You decided to try and flirt back to the best of your abilities by saying. Well, first, take your pants off, and then I’ll tell you.

This earned you a chuckle from the handsome man as he threw the bloody rag to the side and very carefully came up from his spot on the table, you watched him intently as you noticed some of the blood continued to trickle down his clothed thigh. He didn’t seem to care, he kept eye contact with you the whole time as he slowly took his pants off. To be honest it felt like an entity had passed when his pants finally hit the floor, and you weren’t disappointed, let’s just say that.. there was definitely a buldge hidden underneath the fabric of his braies, and you could actually see it growing..

You could practically hear Robin’s smirk as he called out to you, his voice low and teasing. Hey, my eyes are up here, love..

You immediately snap your gaze back up to his face, and he just has an amused expression painted all over his features. You could feel the heat start to radiate off your cheeks and your heartbeat start to pick up as you mumble out defensively. Yeah, yeah, I know.. You close your eyes for a second, trying to recompose yourself.

He takes a step forward, biting his lip to hold back a groan from the wave of pain that just shot up his leg. He cocks an eyebrow and says in a lower octave. You sure about that?

[I am currently editing this, and right here is my stopping point. If the story shifts or changes I’m sorry, I will fix it soon.]

" Hmm. If I fix up your thigh, will you give me a kiss? " You say before continuing, " I’ve always wondered if your a good kisser or not. "

He let out a small chuckle when his eyes kept flicking down to your lips. Then he finally spoke up and said, " Sure, love. " You blushed at the pet name. " Maybe I’ll give you something more than just a kiss. " He winked, making you roll your eyes at his audacity to be this flirty when he’s impaled.

" Fine, let me get my stuff.. " You say, heading away to get your medical supplies while Rob just watch you leave with a smile on his lips.

~

" Mkay, done. " You say as you wrap up his leg and stand up straight, pretty of yourself.

" Well, here’s the kiss that you wanted. " He said as he grabbed your arms, lightly pulling you in before his lips collided with yours.

It feels amazing, and you wanted to be immersed in this feeling forever. You didn’t know what to do, but you were able to make room by spreading his thighs wider so you get closer to him, which made him moan into your mouth. You smiled into the kiss, knowing it could be any moment when John could walk upstairs and see you two start to make out like teenagers, you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel Rob, you wanted his weight on top of you, you wanted him to pin you against the wall and fuck you till your legs went numb and you were cockdrunk.

He wrapped his muscular arms around your waist, pulling you closer and you felt his buldge in his pants grow. You let go of his lips for air and you almost whined at the loss of contact.

" Sorry, love. I don’t want us to get caught. " Rob said with a frown. You cupped his cheek with your hand and kiss him again softly before saying. " It’s fine, we can continue later. "

~

[thatuselesshuman]

WIP in 3 Emojis Tag

Thank you for the tag @the-golden-comet and @winglesswriter

This is going to be an interesting one

None of Us Heroes: 🦾🔪🃏

Bloody Hands are Kind: 💊🏹🎭

[Unnamed]: 🪖

@moltenwrites @willtheweaver @wyked-ao3 @katenewmanwrites @agirlandherquill +open tag

[walpu]

I want your love.

The gambler in front of the bodyguard grins widely, prodding his chest gently and giving his nose a playful poke.

“Darling, guess what I got you~?”

The bodyguard sighs, deciding to indulge his boss for the nth time that day.

“What?”

The gambler grins, presenting a ruby earring, smirking smugly at the jaw dropped expression he received, before quickly pushing it into Verian’s hands, giggling.

“Don’t try and return it. Take it as a gift for being such a good bodyguard for the past year.”

♠️🃏

And I want your revenge.

Verian snarls, glaring daggers at the man, who presently, had him pinned to the wall, collar and wrists, with an arrow at his throat.

“You know…”

The man in front of him drawls out, those bright teal eyes softening in what Verian could have mistaken for… affection?

“You look handsome when you’re bloody and bruised.”

Oh. Verian winces as the man, or rather, rival, pressed his chest with his, feeling the ragged breath of a man that has lost everything.

The arrows withdraws from pressing its tip against his throat, instead, it’s replaced with his rival’s soft skin, making Verian shiver against the cold breaths against his skin.

🏹💨

I want your love.

“Please, just leave this place, leave this organization.”

The person begged, thier hands tugging on Verian’s desperately. He could see the desperation, the protectiveness, and the underlying fear in their eyes.

“I don’t want you to be crossfire in what I’ll do to the damn IPC, Verian.”

The bodyguard sighs as they choked on thier words, calming them down was of no use. They were his friend, of course, but how could he leave his job, his life, his income, just for an idea that seemed impossible?

Still, he indulged them. Quietly pulling them closer, patting their head, not noticing how they smiled through their hysterical tears, that simple action warming their hearts.

⚔️🎭

I don’t wanna be friends

Verian sucked in a breath, quietly running his hands through Haben’s, silently admiring the soft lips that were kissing him breathlessly mere hours ago.

“Morning, Hab.”

Haben quietly grins as he watched Verian chuckle, before shuffling forward in his bed, pressing his face against the bodyguard’s neck.

“Morning, Verver. You look stunning.”

Verian holds back a snort, playfully punching Haben’s shoulder, rolling his eyes as his best friend dramatically whined.

Best friend. Huh. Are you supposed to feel an overwhelming amount of affection for a best friend, like he did now?

⚡️🪻

So how do we feel about that arrow dude who was trying to kill Ver be his lover

Oh yeah we got a new pal trying to blow up the IPC and they want Ver out of the crossfire

Very romantic

Was really sitting like this 🤨🔎 trying to figure out who's the arrow guy is and it's the new guy 😭

[serpulalacrymans]

When I started my walks far from the city, I had problems with my lack of care, I had small accidents with bushes and their thorns,putting my hand where I shouldn't touch, unpleasant falls, etc (in short, a lot of ouch moments)

I arrived at my apartment completely bloody, by my own stupidity 😐 but this was only at the start, I soon began to improve my walks with long, well-closed boots and gloves.

And I'm close, by that I mean, I'm close enough to see you leaving the door where you live... but don't worry, this is not a threat, just a fun fact.

- 🏹

Oh. You have to be careful on your walks. Always bring a light and something sharp with you. Watch your step.. Remember the path.. The works.. It gets easier with time.. I'm glad you've improved instead of giving up though. It is nice to take a nightly stroll every so often..

That's.. Interesting... I don't know how to feel about it..

[24hrsallnews]

Thangalaan Update: A video paying tribute to Chiyaan Vikram on his birthday has been shared by a filmmaker.

We will read about, "Thangalaan Update: A video paying tribute to Chiyaan Vikram on his birthday has been shared by a filmmaker." Thangaalan is one of the most awaited and big budget film. The filmmaker has shared the video on Vikram's birthday on his social media.  

A video paying tribute to Chiyaan Vikram on his birthday has been shared by a filmmaker

Vikram, a renowned superstar, is known for his numerous blockbuster films. His upcoming movie, Thangalaan, is highly anticipated and will be released nationwide. Fans are eagerly awaiting any updates regarding the film. Last year, the first look was shared on Vikram's birthday, currently the behind-the-scenes footage of the film has been shared. In the Thangalaan movie, fans will enjoy a fresh journey and an amazing cinematic experience. The video has been widely applauded and has garnered millions of views since it was shared. "Ponniyin Selvan: II" is Vikram's most recent movie, and it was released on April 28, 2023. Fans are waiting for Vikram's latest film. Thangalaan is a historical, period, drama, action film. The story of the film is based on the time of British India Rule. Thangalaan, a tribal leader fights bravely against the British. The film was initially scheduled to release on January 26, 2024, then it was postponed to April 2024. The release date of the film has not been confirmed yet.

Image Credit:- @StudioGreen2 The teaser of the film suggests that greed leads to destruction, just as bloody war leads to freedom, and Kills his enemies with cruelty. When filmmakers shared videos and wrote the caption, "An iconic talent, inspiring awe with grit and glory, delivering performances that defy expectations Happy Birthday  @chiyaan #Thangalaan 🏹 Awaiting your fiery presence on big screens!" The Birthday TributeVideo highlights Vikram's exceptional performances and unwavering dedication to his craft, resulting in a compelling and mesmerizing tribute.   About Thangalaan The film is written and directed by Ranjith and produced by K. E. Gnanavel Raja under the banners of Studio Green, Neelam Productions. A Kishore Kumar handled the cinematography and edited by Selva RK. The film stars Chiyaan Vikram, Malavika Mohanan, Parvathy Thiruvothu, Pasupathi, Daniel Caltagirone, Hari Krishnan, Vettai Muthukumar and among others.  G. V. Prakash Kumar has given music in the film.   Read More - The new look of Pratik Gandhi and Patralekhaa starrer Phule has been released. - Srikanth Movie trailer out now - The release date for the Vicky Vidya Ka Woh Wala Video featuring Rajkummar Rao and Triptii Dimri has been announced. - Yash joins hands with Namit Malhotra to produce 'Ramayana' - Aranmanai 4 Trailer: Sundar C's Aranmanai 4 releases in cinemas globally in April - Gabru Gang Teaser is out now - Romeo movie Cast, Release Date, Director and other - Dukaan movie review: The concept is intriguing but fails to achieve its maximum potential. - Bahar Aa Chaman Prakash: The first film from Namashi's production is here! - Pawan Kalyan met Chiranjeevi during the filming of Vishwambhara Read the full article

[goldentemplariumcrow]

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about💃- For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others🏹- For a talent they wish they had👻- For something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

@tireironmybeloved

"I'm not sure if it's considered weird or not, but I have this thing where I like to lightly pinch on my wrists and knuckles when I can't fidget with my digits."

"So... you know how some children create a whole language of their own and even write and talk in it? Think that, but instead of a child's journal, it's literally every other note, reminder and written piece I have around my place. Now, make it worse and understand that that's my modus operandi of writing, literally my first language, even more fluent than my Italian, because my brain is coded in it. I write and speak in Isu if I don't have my filters on."

"I have a healthy envy of my little brother's talents with clothes. He can make everything work, and if it doesn't work, he can dismantle, modify and put everything together again like it's no big deal at all. Sewing skills unmatched. I wish I had like one percent of that."

"Two words: Bloody Tree.

Let me paint the picture of the thing: flesh instead of a trunk, arms and hands instead of of branches, legs for roots, hair instead of leaves, eyes in place of flowers and fruits, sticky, oozy smell of a thousand putrefied bodies.

What happens when you cut the thing open? You find yourself face to face with its digestive track and blood. Lots of blood. Get cut or scratched by it? Congratulations, you'll turn into one and become part of its collective hive mind. Fell into it? You have exact nine and a half minutes to find your way out of it and pray that you haven't cut or scratched yourself during the process.

The thing is sentient, spreads fast and is capable of moving on its own accord. And I've had the very unpleasant experience of having to go in one to retrieve a Piece Of Eden. So, yes, I don't take well to even hearing about them. They're disgusting, dangerous, and I'd burn it with fire if it was an effective method of getting rid of it.

Why I can't tell anyone about my utter disgust? Because this thing is one of the obsessions of some of the scientists in Abstergo. Thus, I remain silent and wanting to kill every single one of the wackos who think that studying that thing is a good idea."

[starseternelle]

[ bloody ] sender arrives at receiver's doorstep bleeding and injured ( sounds about right ) // @nightstriumph

__________🏹      SHE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SOMETHING WASN'T RIGHT WHEN THE BOND QUIETED. once playful banter && constant presence now replaced with the roar of absence. she had kept her worry in check, kept busy, until the thump on their doorstep causes stomach to drop. without a second thought, she is running to the threshold, aware now of how her skin pricks to sense him so near but for her mind, the bridge to be so empty. dread, in all its heavy ache, is replaced with fear.

🏹__________      THERE IS BLOOD EVERYWHERE. in his hands, clutching a wound still pulsing && gaping; across his shirt; splattered across the high planes of his face. her heart leaps && then practically stops. ❛   rhys !!   ❜ time slows around them as he turns to face her && then he is tumbling down, down, down. she catches him around the ribs, her own hands now slick with her mate's lifeblood. down, down, down. he is too heavy to slow completely, his momentum too great to stop. all she can do is help him to the ground, pulling his head into her lap, eyes burning with unshed tears.

__________🏹      BLOOD IS THE ENEMY, BLOOD MAY BE THE ANSWER. she has no knife on her person, instead she uses her teeth to bite through the skin of her wrist, the taste of iron tainting her tongue. hers. her mate's. she is pushing her new wound towards his lips, begging the mother above that her healing power will be enough to stabilize him until madja can come. ❛   drink rhys.   ❜ order, gentle but strained. no sooner has she completed her task that she is calling for her handmaidens. nuala, send for madja. cerridwen, alert the inner circle the high lord is injured. as they disappear, she returns her stormy gaze to his . ❛   you're going to be okay. you're safe now.   ❜

[seokljin]

me waiting for my boo to walk down the aisle 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

[just-a-mer]

Short Dialogue / Interaction

Penelope, Telemachus, Odysseus

(ooc: context: Odysseus and Tiresias are to be married!)

"Odysseus, my love, what are you doing? Usually, you aren't below the surface for quite so long." Penelope's voice is carried upon the waves as she watches her husband poke his head out and swim to sit on the sand with a decent sized haul of all sorts of things.

"Remember when I told you about the wedding?" He inquires, watching as she offers a wave of her hand to continue. "Well, I heard that there's a ... custom? I'm not quite sure what the word is, but the point is that each type of nymph has a certain thing they're tied to!" He explains excitedly, beginning to sort through the objects in his arms. "I'm no nymph, but oceanids and / or nereids gather oceanic stones or clams... that sort of thing, for this situation. I figured it might be a sweet gesture if I followed their traditions."

Penelope smiles at that, kneeling by his side and turning his head to place a brief kiss to his lips. "Always the sentimental type you are. I'm sure they would appreciate it." She hums, looking out at the ocean and where the sky reached down to intertwine with the far waves. "Though, you really should introduce us, you know. I don't even know the face of the one you speak so highly of."

The king chuckles, following her gaze and feeling the sea breeze flow through his hair. "Believe me, it had been on my mind. I had hoped to bring you both to the underworld to meet them, but that journey may be a lot; even for me. Perhaps I can convince them to manifest up here, if only for a while."

The queen makes a soft sound in thought. The two sit there for a long moment, seemingly sharing some unspoken conversation before footsteps break them of their connection. Telemachus sits beside the two and places a basket at his father's side, sighing in relief at having made it down from the palace with little issue beside some exhaustion that came with two trips to and from their home to the bay.

Odysseus looks at his son's bright eyes, and his smile softens. Some things never changed. "Thank you, kid."

"Of course, father." Telemachus replies, laying back on the sand, oddly content with the fact it was going to be all over his hair as Penelope rests her own head on Odysseus' shoulder.

The king begins to vocalize a soft tune as he continues to sort through the gemstones and other sea charms alongside his family.

( full context here )

[folklorebau]

love me in secret — eddie munson

summary: you love your best friend, but he only ever wants to love you back in private. one conversation changes everything for the both of you.

pairing: eddie munson x reader. fluff, two idiots in love.

a/n: my first eddie fic !!!! requests open <3

requests are open, check pinned for who i write for !!

♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 🕊 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 🏹 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ☕️ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ♡

tuesday night is reserved for movie night with eddie. “what do you wanna watch?” he asks, kneeling down so he can see all of his movie collection. you shrug, picking at the skin around your fingers until they bled.

“why don’t we ever go to the movies?” you ask, trying to sound genuinely, innocently curious but all that comes out is an accusation, and your tone isn’t lost on eddie who looks back over his shoulder, eyes wide, until he just shrugs, his focus going back to the box of tapes. “dunno.” he responds. “we could, if you wanted.” he offers, and you can hear the panic in his voice, the way he is getting uncomfortable at the idea of being in public with you, like that.

“do you want to?” you ask and he turns around again to meet your eyes which are looking at your bloody nail beds.

“are you okay?” he asks. “you seem kind of pissed off at me.” straight to the point, as always. everything has always been relatively easy with eddie, but loving him has to be the biggest struggle you have faced while knowing him. god knows if he feels the same, sometimes you think he might but he has never explicitly said it. he just lets his hands linger and his gaze linger and his kisses linger but school comes round and he is just eddie, your friend eddie.

it’s not lost on you that friends don’t kiss, so you guys must be more than, right? in the dim light of his bedroom you question everything again while he just stares at you. “yeah, i’m fine.” you respond. eddie cocks his head to the side and pushes the box of tapes out of his way, getting up so he can sit beside you on the bed.

“you sure?” he asks, an inked arm going around your shoulders while his other hand pulls your hand away, casually stopping any more damage you might cause to your fingers. “we can talk if u want.” he offers, smoothing his thumb over the back of your hand.

taking a leaf out of eddie’s book, you head straight for the point, which feels a lot like driving straight off a cliff. “we’re not really friends anymore, are we?” you ask and his head turns towards you, his hair stroking your cheeks as he does. the look of hurt and confusion evident on his face, worry laced in his brown eyes.

“of course we are, what are you talking about?” he asks nervously.

“just friends?” you ask and his confusion and panic dissipates, face settling into a smile, a rose tinted smile that makes your heart beat a little bit faster. making you feel hopeful, making you feel like stepping off the ledge didn’t have to be so bad after all.

“well, no.” he says. “i didn’t know whether you were ready to put a label on it.” he says. “honestly, i didn’t really think you actually liked me like that.” he admits.

“what?” you ask. “eddie, i don’t come here every tuesday and watch whatever horrible gory movie you decide to torture me with out of my own free will.” you laugh, turning in his arms so you can really look at him. “i come here for you!” you say, making him blush.

“you see me everyday!” he argues. “and i thought you liked movie night.” he says jokingly.

“i do! i do, honestly. but it’s not the movie, it’s just being able to be with you.” you pause and he senses the but that’s coming. “but, i want to be able to hold your hand outside of this room, have you kiss me, whenever we want to, i don’t wanna save it all for movie night and then pretend like it never even happened.” you admit.

“i assumed you wouldn’t want all that.” he says. “parading me around as your boyfriend, what would people think of you?” he says and it’s shocking to you how serious he is. he doesn’t even get sad at his own self-deprecation, he just genuinely believes that you would be embarrassed by him, and accepts it like it means nothing to you or to him.

“eddie.” you say and he looks deeper into your eyes. “i don’t care what people think of me.” you respond. “people are… people, well. they fucking suck.” you say, simply and eddie laughs faking shock at your language.

“yeah.” he agrees. “they really do fucking suck!” he laughs.

“but you don’t, so can i please parade eddie munson around as my boyfriend?” you ask him and he smirks.

“are you asking me out, y/n?” he asks, teasingly. “gotta say, kinda cheesy method for you.” he says. you pull your hands up to cover your face and he curls over into a laugh, enjoying the way you squirm. “okay, okay, okay.” he says prying your hands away from your face.

“yes, you can parade me around as your boyfriend.” he says. with his hands on your wrists, he leans in, pressing the softest kiss ever to your lips. he lets go of your wrists so you can touch his face and his hair and his neck and he can touch you back in the same ways.

[minervadashwood]

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab/plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 5

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Series Masterlist| Masterlist | Taglist Form

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Summaray: Spilled coffee = danger zone This chapter contains: A frightened omega, off-screen violence, blood, minor burns. Word count: 3K Thank you!!! to @green-eyedladywrites and @bringinsexybackk69 for their encouragement and general tolerance of my nagging questions. And @livingdeadblondequeen, as always, for letting me say "what if" and then replying "yes and." Dividers: @firefly-graphics - a boon to all writers.

You left Merle and Daryl at the corner table while you went to the counter to buy three large coffees to-go. Just as you were turning around, drinks in hand, a large trucker backed into you. The coffee spilled all over you, the hot liquid making you yelp in pain. The now-empty cups clattered to the floor onto a  brown puddle just as the man whipped around.

He growled at you, his eyes hidden beneath a worn John Deere cap and his unkempt beard concealing most of his face.

“Watch were you’re going, fucking bitch!”

You wanted to be brave and strong, but tears were already falling, as instinctual fear held you in a chokehold. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Just like any other omega would, you froze at the hint of danger, and this was an all-out confrontation. To make it worse, you were hurt. Your tank top and skirt clung to your skin, against your burns that felt no relief from the fabric trapping the heat to your burns.

Daryl had let himself get too comfortable. Your excitement and beautiful smiles let him forget just what kind of place he brought you to.

Your scream felt like a knife stabbing Daryl in the gut. He was out of his seat quicker than he could draw another breath. Merle was right behind him, and Daryl ran to you, dodging scattered tables and chairs, getting to you faster than he thought possible.

At once Daryl was in front of you, hiding you behind him and violently shoving your attacker in the other direction.

Instinct borne of countless fights before—when it had been the Dixons against the world—told Daryl that Merle would handle the trucker.

Grabbing you, Daryl turned his back to the others and cradled you to his chest.

"Yer alright, Y/N, I'm here. Nothin’s gonna hurt ya.” Unconsciously, he scented you, marking his territory and soothing you all at once.

“Guess who we have here, Daryl!” Merle shouted. “It’s Joe Wilson.”

Holding your head against his chest, Daryl glanced back at his brother and snarled. Merle had met that mother fucker in prison and still held a grudge. Something about stolen cigarettes and ramen.

Daryl began dragging you away from the confrontation, but not without missing Merle’s humorless laugh. That laugh boded trouble, and for once Daryl didn’t mind it. Merle could beat the man to a bloody pulp and Daryl’d be grateful.

“You and me got unfinished business, Wilson,” Merle warned. “And now ya gone and hurt my brother’s ‘mega. I’d start prayin’ to my lord and savior if I was you.”

The manager’s booming voice filled the room. “Dixon, ya’ll take it outside or I’m callin’ the cops.”

“Fine by me,” Merle grinned and grabbed Joe Wilson by the collar, dragging the man out the nearest exit.

With the looming threat gone, Daryl finally noticed that you were clutching at his shirt and sobbing.

You whimpered. “Daryl…it burns…I need…help.”

Despite your confidence, your easy way of moving through the world, Daryl knew that deep down you were an omega. In this moment it was abundantly clear why omegas needed alphas.

Why you needed him.

You were practically helpless. Not even able to say just what help you needed; your only coherent thought was to turn to him. Something in Daryl’s heart solidified, filling him with a confidence he’d never known. You were his and nothing in the world, not Joe Wilson, not Merle, not Daryl’s own self-doubt, would prevent him from protecting you and keeping you safe.

He lifted you in his arms, knowing well the way to the showers with the automatic card readers outside each stall. After paying, he took you inside the cleanest one and turned the faucet on just a little, letting the chilly water come out at a steady pace without splashing both of you in the process.

“Lemme get your clothes off ya, ‘mega,” Daryl spoke gently as he put you down to stand.

You nodded, letting him strip you down to your underwear and bra. Daryl rinsed your tank top out in the water, wringing it out a few times before dabbing it on your belly.

“That alright?” he asked.

You nodded, and he kept soothing your minor burns with the damp cloth. You weren’t severely injured at all, but Daryl sensed you were still scared, still lost in your fear.

He kissed your forehead and soothed your back with one hand. It took a while, but eventually your breathing slowed, and you managed to take your shirt from him.

“I’m okay, I think,” you said, meeting his eyes. “Been a long time since that’s happened to me. Years.”

Daryl furrowed his brow. Who had been with you then? Who’d taken care of you? Kept you safe?

Daryl could not stand the idea of you out in the world—all alone—just hoping some kind beta would check on you. And the thought of another alpha consoling you filled Daryl with a simmering rage he struggled to reign in.

An omega without a pack.

Well, not anymore, that was for sure.

Back at the car, you changed clothes, putting on your cargo shorts and Camp Crystal Lake t-shirt. You made easy work of it, being well practiced at changing in shared dorm rooms and the community housing you’d lived in as a teen. You pulled your shorts on under your skirt, then put on your t-shirt, then took your tank top off from underneath the tee. Being in clean clothes went a long way in helping you feel better.

Daryl helped even more, mostly by just being close. His fury back in the restaurant should have scared you, but it hadn’t. In fact, it’d been a great comfort to you having your alpha get you out of danger. When all you could do was stand frozen in place, having Daryl take care of you made it all okay.

When you were changed, Daryl opened the passenger door and sat you down, squatting in the doorway. He cupped your cheeks. “Feelin�� okay?”

You nodded. “Just tired now.” You put a hand over one of his. “Are you okay?”

Daryl clenched his jaw but gave you a small smile. “If yer okay, I’m okay.”

Your heart clenched and you wanted to cry again. Only now it wasn’t about the man who yelled at you, but all about how much Daryl cared for you. Like all that mattered to him was you. How was that possible? He didn’t even know you existed until last night.

“C’mon now,” he chided, his voice rough. “No more cryin’. You’ll wear yerself out.” His thumbs stroked away your tears.

You nodded, smiling at him, despite everything.

He relaxed his shoulders. “There’s my good ‘mega. With their pretty smile.”

You pried his hands from your cheeks and pulled him to you for a hug. “I’m so glad I met you Daryl Dixon.”

His kiss was the only reply you got.

In the distance you heard Merle’s now-familiar whistling as he approached you and Daryl.

As Daryl got to his feet, you saw blood trickling down from Merle’s nose and that the front of his shirt had been ripped in half.

You gasped.

“He won’t be botherin’ ya again, Peanut,” Merle grinned. “Ol’ Merle took care of ‘im.”

“Oh, Merle,” you sighed. Again, the sight of blood and signs of violence should have unnerved you, but they didn’t. Just like Daryl, Merle had come to your rescue.

In the next moment, you had your first aid kit out and went about seeing to Merle’s minor scrapes and cleaning up his bloodied nose.  Unconsciously, you released soothing pheromones, making both brothers feel calm and at ease.

When you finished, Merle patted you on the head.

“Don’t go makin’ Daryl all jealous now, Peanut.”

You’d never had a brother, but Merle Dixon gave you a sense of what having one might’ve been like. Still, you moved away from him and back to Daryl, into your mate’s waiting arms.

“Daryl has nothing to be jealous about, you big lug,” you said to Merle. “I just saw you needed some first aid.”

Merle laughed. “I know, I know. It’s the ‘mega in ya. Tendin’ our wounds and givin’ us something to protect. Yer a Dixon now, like I said.”

You gave Merle a small, shy nod, then looked up at Daryl. “Guess I am.”

Once Daryl got you back on the road, with the sound of the engine, lulling you to sleep, you found yourself taking a short nap. About twenty minutes later, you woke up refreshed and soothed by the presence of your alpha beside you. He patted your knee as you stirred awake, and then you contented yourself with staring out the window as the Georgia landscape flew by.

A few minutes later, you took out your phone and opened your messages. You decided to text Paul Rovia, a person you knew only through texts and emails—you’d shared research during your respective senior year projects—but would meet for the first time tomorrow. He was a graduate student, like you, only his specialty was omega biology. You’d gotten along from the first tentative, professional emails you’d exchanged. He shared your love of horror movies and your passion for alpha/omega research.

You: So a funny thing happened on my way to GSU.

Three dots popped on your screen, indicating that Paul, or “Ro” as you called him, typed a reply.

Ro: Oh? Do tell.

You shifted in your seat and snapped a picture of Daryl.

You: So this is Daryl…

Ro: Looks pretty cute.

You already knew Ro was bi and a beta. You couldn’t help responding appropriately.

You: Hands off, Rovia. He’s my true mate.

Typing it out had you grinning uncontrollably, and you momentarily put down your phone to stare at Daryl. He had a lovely profile. Strong, angular chin, perfectly proportioned nose, deep set eyes. As if seeing him for the first time, he seemed to you perfectly made, perfectly handsome.

Your phone buzzed.

Ro: No. Way.

You: Yes way. Met him at a cheap motel of all places.

“Everythin’ alright?” Daryl suddenly asked, making you nearly drop your phone.

“Yeah, great.” You said hastily. Admitting all of this to Ro made it much more real than it had been before.

Daryl was yours. Really and truly yours.

You stared at him for another moment or two, wanting to tell him everything you felt in the moment. But it was too soon. So much had happened already.

“I’m just texting my friend Ro,” you explained. “I’m meeting him for the first time tomorrow.”

You did not miss Daryl’s white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Daryl wasn’t jealous, was he?

Daryl huffed. “That why you sendin’ ‘im your picture?”

You giggled. “No, I sent him your picture.”

“Mine?!” Daryl punctuated the word with enough shock that it had you wondering if anyone had taken his picture before.

“Just showing off my mate,” you said.

A beat of silence before a deep red blush crept up from Daryl’s neck to his cheeks. You watched in awe as he tried not to smile.

“Stop starin’,” he ordered. “Don’t need you distractin’ me from the road.”

“Yes, Alpha,” you whispered, trying not to laugh. How was the man who protected you at the restaurant the same blushing mess sitting next to you?

You went back to texting Ro, relating everything that had happened during your ill-fated pit stop.

You: I haven’t frozen up like that in a long, long time, Ro.

Ro: It’s only natural.

Ro: Sounds like you found your mate just in time.

A nugget of fear you’d been nursing subconsciously finally grew enough so you could articulate it.

You: But it’s not like he’s going to be with me 24/7. What then?

Ro: He’ll know the moment you need him. That’s how it works.

Looking out the window again, you tried to reassure yourself. Daryl didn’t live close to you, not yet, but he would soon. You could cope until then, surely. Even if it took Daryl a while to get to you, you’d have Ro, the RAs in your dorm—all of them betas trained to take care of omegas who were alone, like you.

You looked at your phone.

Ro: Until then, you’ve got me and Buster!

Attached to the message was a photo of his old mixed breed black lab, sleeping on a sofa.

You: Thanks, Ro. Means a lot. Give B lots of pets for me.

Ro: What else are research buddies for?

He sent a ridiculous number of emojis, prompting you to close the app and lock your phone.

Needing to ground yourself, you reached for Daryl and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“Ro said you were cute, Alpha. I have to agree.”

Daryl felt his cheeks flushing all over again. Your touch was electrifying. He didn’t want you to stop. But he sensed your unease, and he wondered what you weren’t telling him.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “What’s a matter? Somethin’ ain’t right.”

“I just…” you paused but kept playing with his hair. “I’m going to miss you this week. That’s all.”

Thirty minutes after you left the truck stop, Deputy Rick Grimes arrived. He’d been up late, drowning his sorrows with a case of beer before hitting the sack at 3 AM. Photos of Lori and Shane started hitting Facebook at 4 PM, just hours after the divorce had been finalized.

It took Shane and Lori less than a day to start posting together and updating their relationship statuses. It’d been going on long before that—Rick’s wife and his best friend started having an affair almost eighteen months ago. Rick found out about a year ago. And by then everything was over. Too far gone for him to fix anything, Lori said. 

Last night, it hadn’t been until he saw a short video of Carl laughing with Shane that Rick broke. Watching another man live his life over social media had never been in the cards for Rick. He’d been a good husband, he thought. He was sure as hell a good father. But somewhere along the way he’d messed it up.

A few months ago, he gave up trying to understand his ex-wife or Shane. It hurt too much. All he could do was be there for Carl and look forward to every other weekend, half the holidays, and a month in the summer.

Rick now found himself taking the Lilly Valley exit and drove to The Bus Yard. On autopilot, he parked, then grabbed his notepad and gear. Once he was out of the car, his personal sadness took a backseat to his hard-earned professionalism.

Once inside the restaurant, he questioned the manager, the servers, and the line cooks. He talked to the complainant, Joe Wilson. After all that, he sat in his car, looking up Joe’s record, then Merle Dixon’s. It wasn’t hard to surmise the pair of good ol’ boys probably had it out for each other, given their history in lock up.

Rick checked out Merle’s current whereabouts. There was a mention of a younger brother, so Rick looked him up, too. The younger Dixon—shockingly—didn’t have a record. However, the guy had been a corroborating witness for Merle plenty of times. Providing alibis mostly.

Rick chalked it up to redneck roughhousing, not unusual in nowheresville, Georgia. So long as no one innocent was involved, Rick would have been fine letting it all go.

But there was another victim, an omega matching your description who’d suffered minor burns from the incident. But you weren’t here to press charges against anyone, so Rick’d have to let that go.

He ended up telling Wilson if the man wanted to press charges against Merle Dixon, Rick’d have to take Wilson in for harassing the omega. Wilson relented, and the manager said no property was damaged.

So, one of Rick’s easier cases, all told.

With nothing pressing to do until his radio squelched or his phone rang, he took a seat at the counter and ordered  some coffee.

Even the rich aroma couldn’t mask your scent, however. His alpha senses had picked up on it easily—the only sign of an omega had been here at all. Rick struggled not to fixate on it while he’d been doing his job, but it was there all the same. His heightened alpha senses told him you were long gone. According to the witnesses, Dixon’s little brother was the one to come to rescue; the confrontation between Wilson and Merle almost incidental to your role in the matter.

Was that younger Dixon your mate? If so, the man would do well to take better care of you. Starting with not bringing you to places like this one. Rick could swear he could smell Daryl Dixon, too. A strong alpha with protective instincts that had scented the place when his omega was in danger.

However, this scent threw Rick for a loop. It was unlike any other alpha he’d smelled before. Once Rick sat there for a while and the caffeine started working its magic, the deputy was filled with renewed vigor. Something in him wanted to get closer to both scents, to follow them down the road and find what was at the end of it. To match those scents with two mates and satisfy his niggling curiosity.

Rick was a bit turned on, too, but he blamed that entirely on your lingering aura: mint and lavender. At some point the scent settled deep inside him, as if instilling itself in his memory forever. Something to recall at will whenever he needed it.

Sleep deprivation. That’s what it was. Otherwise, none of it made sense. What kind of weirdo went chasing scents down the Interstate, anyhow? 

By his third cup of coffee, Rick had pretty much talked himself out of it. He filed his report at the station on the way home. 

However, before logging off the station computer, he took down Merle Dixon’s last known address on a slip of paper.

Just in case Wilson changed his mind, Rick told himself.

Though, deep down he knew better.

I did not expect Rick to show up for a while, but he insisted! Who knows what will happen next because my outline is already obsolete.

I'm sure it was clear that idk how people text these days. i text the way I think, so...yeah.

...anyway...

Thanks for reading, if you enjoyed it, please reblog so others can find it, too! Replies and comments are what keeps me writing and sharing my work. If you're shy, you can always send anonymous messages.

Next Chapter.

=============

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[polyghostfacehours]

Okok this is 🏹 anon I sent the Jen x GF x reader request I’m glad it was therapeutic for you <3 also if you could do a nsfw take on it that’d be rlly cool bc I’m like low-key invested in this pairing??? But yeah hey hi ily

You ask and I deliver. I'm so glad you love this Bow anon~. Since this is a continuation of your last request, I kept it Female!Reader for you.

TW: NSFW, blood kink

Poly!Ghostface x Reader x Jennifer Check

Okay so once you get back, all hell breaks loose.

Jen, Billy, and Stu were incredibly aroused from the moment each of them saw you. Jennifer's panties were absolutely soiled, and god she wanted nothing more than to rub her cunt against yours.

Billy and Stu were nearly in pain with how hard they were. Since Billy had come your way from home, he was still in sweatpants and the wet patch in the front of his pants from precum told all you needed to know.

By this time, you've calmed down thanks to Billy's assurances and Jennifer getting rid of the body. As a matter of fact, Billy's hands running over your body in the car on the way back had you rubbing your thighs together.

The minute you're back at your place, Stu throws you over his shoulder and they make their way to the bed.

No shower for you until they're done.

You're thrown onto the bed and your clothes are practically torn off of you. You could barely tell who's hands were who's.

Once you're disrobed, they pull back to really admire you. the blood had soaked through your clothes and coated your whole body. Your hair was still dripping with the liquid, and your face was streaked with red. The expression on your face brought it all together for them, a mixture of arousal and the thrill of a first kill.

"Fuuuuck." is all you hear from Stu before the hunt begins.

Jennifer moves first, grabbing your hair and tilting your neck back. She latches her pouty lips onto your blood-soaked neck and licks and sucks as much of it off as possible. You hear her moaning at the taste and you moan back at the feeling.

Stu comes to your other side and begins immediately fondling your breasts before lowering his mouth and latching on. The blood makes it even more erotic for him.

Billy gets between your legs and to his absolute delight, your pants and panties had also soaked through with blood, coating your cunt.

He goes to town. Swirling on your clit, dipping his blood soaked fingers into you. He's subtley humping the bed while he does so, it's that hot for him.

They work you over like that until you're cumming on Billy's tongue.

After this is a whirlwind of various positions.

One is with you and Jennifer blowing Billy and Stu, alternating and switching. They're absolutely wrecked watching you two look up at them, blood covered faces and hair, bobbing up and down on their cocks. It causes a mess, as you and Jen get blood on their dicks and pelvis' in the process, but they wouldn't have it any other way

Another is with you and Jen 69'ing, with one of the boys fucking you, and the other fucking Jen.

At one point Stu demands a bloody boob job, and you're more than happy to oblige. Jen and Billy watch this, chuckling and talking dirty while watching Stu shiver while at your mercy.

It becomes fucking bukkake central. Billy and Stu have gotten really riled up from the blood, so the amount of times they came on or in you was almost overwhelming.

Jennifer also squirted for the first time during this (which had you all practically cheering in victory lmao) and a good amount got on you too, so that added to the fluids covering your body.

The sheets absolutely needed to be changed after this. And a nice long hot shower was in order afterwards.

Hope you liked this Bow! Sorry it took so long due to my tiny hiatus. Thank you for your patience beebs <3. if you ever want more of this delicious quad by all means send it in!

[bearsgrove]

i have been tagged in this ages ago by @vixenlesbian i believe,, thank you ffion :^)

i tag @cheydinhaal @nordxz @lvllns @elmsreach if you feel like doing this 🐑

decided to do this for kaz!! 🏹

𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴: high / average / deep. 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃: yes / no. 𝙳𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙽𝙾𝚁: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other / depends on situation 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed. 𝙷𝙰𝙱𝙸𝚃𝚂: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at distance.

— 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏��𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐓𝐘. 𝚅𝙾𝙲𝙰𝙱𝚄𝙻𝙰𝚁𝚈: ⬛ ⬛ ⬛ ⬛ ⬜ 𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽: ⬛ ⬛ ⬛ ⬜ ⬜   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙲𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴: ⬛ ⬛ ⬛ ⬜ ⬜

—  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘. 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈:    ⬛ ⬛ ⬜ ⬜ ⬜ 𝙲𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚃𝚈 (in regards to profanity):  ⬛ ⬛ ⬜ ⬜ ⬜ ⬜  

—  𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐘. arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. cock. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

—  𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓. christ on a bike. christ on a cracker. damn. goddamn. godsdamn. hell. holy shit. jesus. jesus christ. jesus h christ. jesus h. roosevelt christ. lord have mercy. jesus, mary and joseph. sweet jesus.

— 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓. contractions or enunciation? straightforward or cryptic? jargon or toned? complexity or simplicity? finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? masculinity, neutrality, or femininity? formalities or abrasiveness? praise or equivocation? frankness or lies? excessive or minimal hand gestures? name-calling or magnanimity? friendly or blunt nicknames?

— 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

𝙳𝙾 𝙿𝙴𝙾𝙿𝙻𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙰 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙳 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚁 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁’𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙰𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚂 𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙻𝚈 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙰𝙺? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚄𝚂𝙴 ‘𝚆𝙷𝙾𝙼’ 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴? yes / no / only ironically. [uhh what,,]

𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙰 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙳𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚄𝚂𝙴? but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps

𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂? walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙳𝙳𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂? titles / first names / surnames / full names / nicknames. [that depends on the disposition and many things i guess?? he can be polite and address people with proper titles or their surnames but he will use a nickname or just a name when he loses respect for someone and feels like mocking them. and he uses names for friends and acquaintances. depends on how people introduce themselves, too. like when aloth introduces himself as aloth corfiser kaz will spend some time addressing him by his full name until it feels appropriate to only call him by his name. also when sagani introduces herself as sagani it’s clear she doesn’t have a surname so like. yea. you get it.]

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚂 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙰𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝙽���𝚂 𝚃𝙾, 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙰𝙺? upper / middle / lower.

𝙸𝙽 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚈 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙰𝙺 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂? accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t. [he doesn’t have like super ~accenty~ accent but it’s both subtle and strange enough that people notice but they can’t quite pinpoint what they noticed. does that make sense. about politeness though: based on his appearance and demeanor people expect him to be bastardly, disrespectful and generally impolite (he is all of that but Anyway) but when he speaks it might be surprising how polite and well-mannered he is.]

[codename-freya]

TORTURE AND VIOLENT RP PROMPTS. // Accepting

@biskael said: 🏹 ( for any of your bleach verses . )

~*~ Her mouth was known for getting her in trouble. Kaisa was known for mouthing off, for being reckless and stubborn. Her captain knew it, her fellow division members knew it, and now it seemed as though this Quincy was seeing it first hand. The petite blonde was bloodied and bruised. Even with being captured, a prisoner of war, she didn't back down. She should have. She should have stopped, should have ran and yet she didn't. That was her mistake. Kaisa's emerald eyes still held her raging anger and spite that pushed her forward. She'd been immobilized, her zanpakuto taken, and even though she tried to fight she wasn't quite strong or fast enough to get away from the tall Quincy.

A pained scream tore through her throat as the first arrow pierced her skin. She'd not been able to keep quiet. Kaisa wanted to not show how much pain she was in, yet the watering of her eyes, the scream, and the panting all indicated she wasn't strong enough to hide it.

"Fuck you," the fifth seat spat and struggled against the binds.

Another arrow pierced her skin and she shut her eyes tightly, pushing the pain back as best as she could. A tear trailed down her dirt stained cheek, gasping through the pain.

"You won't break me," Kaisa growled, opening those eyes once more and leveling a hate filled glare up at him.

She was so small, so pale, but refused to bow or break. Quilge was going to have to do more if he wanted to break the reckless and stubborn fifth seat of the Gobantai.