#((NEITHER OF THEM ARE PAYING A SINGLE MARK IN THIS OUTING

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 1

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; snapshots of you and mark growing up together. neither of you make it to the other end of the spectrum - budding adulthood - unscathed . . . but at least you have each other. what is it they say? Sandbox love never dies.

a/n: alt title [vignettes of a life: growing pains]. here's something to make you wish you were never born xx. this came out wayy longer than i expected & i figured the only way to properly digest it was by breaking it up into chapters. this one’s pretty intense so please heed the warnings. they'll be included in every chapter forward. enjoy! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

1 .

you still remember the fog of childhood innocence.

the fluffy pajamas that were both comfy and scratchy all at once. the stickers on your bedroom wall, on your wooden headboard. plastic restaurant playground mazes, fishing out toys from greasy boxes. the feeling of chalk staining your fingers and gravel digging into your soft knees: chubby legs soon to be scarred.

and amidst the fog, you remember mark. the sporty, hyperactive kid who’d run across the school yard with a sweater wrapped around his neck like a cape, arms spread wide pretending he could fly.

you remember him.

vibrant, loving, quick witted.

it was glaringly obvious all the kids in your grade wanted to be friends with mark grayson. he had a posse: his very own group of 'superheroes', as the teachers used to call it. and before you learned to multiply, something inside you brewed like a poison. you wanted to be like him but you weren't, and so, your stubborn, little kid mind decided you didn't like him.

you hated him, actually. you hated the way he knew all the right answers in class. you hated his laugh. you hated how he was the fastest during sports. you hated how he was fun and smart and good at everything you weren't.

but dislike or not, that didn't stop your fixation. you continued to watch him from afar. and in your journals - to the best of your ability - you drew yourself striding across the playground with a sweater tied around your neck.

you kept to yourself. painfully shy and practically non-verbal: despite your daydreams of someday being a 'normal' kid like mark. your teachers held conferences with your parents about your struggles. despite the fog that blanketed the memories of your childhood: the feeling of dread settling deep in your tummy during the meetings is something that makes you wince to this day.

while you traced patterns into the table in front of you, they'd talk about you as if you weren't in the same room. your teacher did most of the talking. . and, like most of the time, your brain blocked out the sound of her droning voice. instead, your parent's voice was who you heard. and despite struggling to keep up with the onslaught of information, too, all your parent offered was a hushed, “I don't know what's wrong with them.”

you couldn't pay attention. you didn't talk to the other kids. you clung onto your teacher while in class. . and onto your parent during drop-off.

you were different.

intelligent.

but different.

the former a more pressing concern than the latter.

after countless tedious meetings, you soon associated being different with being singled out. being different meant spending an hour sitting in a boring office, listening to teachers repeat the same information - over and over and over again.

a mention about a doctor your parent(s) always refused.

regardless of the calming - sympathetic? - smile of your teacher, it always felt like you were in trouble. even if you couldn't quite put your finger on what you were doing wrong.

on the way home, your parent(s) would eye you through the rearview mirror. you pulled at the loose strings from your sweater and pretended not to notice.

the front door of your childhood home would creak open. your parent(s) would sit at the dinner table, silent, immobile, and - quiet as always - you'd go to your room until you were certain they were asleep to sneak either dinner or a midnight snack.

you were in trouble.

you just didn't know how to stop getting into it.

your teachers grew evermore desperate.

when suggestions of socializing would cause you to clam up: they decided to bite the bullet and break you in by force, hoping your behavior was caused by childhood timidity. one you’d soon outgrow instead of. . something else.

they’d grouped you with myriad of students in hopes you'd socialize or at least participate in something that wasn't independent school work. soon, your tears of frustration when you couldn't communicate correctly no longer held it's child-like charm. your teary, red eyed protests were ignored.

or met with indignation.

until finally - as a last ditch effort you assume - they sat you next to mark grayson.

you protested. not because he made you nervous - which he did - but because you wanted to dislike him. because being in the proximity of everything you wanted to be would be too much to bare. because mark would only make you look even weirder in comparison. but none of it mattered because as soon as the two of you met everything just. . fell into place.

much to your pleasure, he did most of the talking and didn't seem weirded out by your social skills - or lack thereof.

you found your tummy didn't hurt when he spoke to you and he didn't ask you something along the lines of why are you this way? why aren't you like the rest of us?

for the first time while in school, you were comfortable. the overwhelming pressure of having to perform was nonexistent in mark's company.

he'd ask you about your favorite cartoons and movies, and books, and “oh! do you read any comics?!”, and ranted on how unfair it was that the two of you would soon be forced to read books without pictures in them.

his excitement barely let you get a word in. his energy was contagious, all consuming, and the attention he gave you felt like the praise you'd hardly ever receive. you forgot all about your dumb vendetta, wondering why you had one in the first place. and you morphed into a mini version of him.

the two of you were attached by the hip by the end of the week. much to the dismay of your teachers, who you were sure began to rethink their decision when the two of you wouldn't behave in class.

and, perhaps, it was a mistake. they wouldn't want you to potentially stunt mark’s growth - what if it was contagious?

unbeknownst to you, your teachers did think about separating the two of you. but the risk of you reverting to your old ways and the possibility of invoking debbie grayson’s wrath must've been far too high for their liking.

ultimately, a unanimous decision was made to grit their teeth and bare it.

in the meantime, his posse reluctantly welcomed you in. mark even gave you your very own superhero name! and you tried your hardest to keep up with him. for his sake. for your own.

god knows you tried.

but you were never good at performing.

you weren't as fast or as agile as him. you couldn't jump high enough and your sound effects were nowhere near as good. and in an attempt to overcompensate, you overestimated yourself, took a leap you knew you couldn't make, and scraped your knee.

and like a true hero, mark was the first to come to your aid. he'd sat you down on the plastic playset of the playground while you sniveled - part due to embarrassment instead of the stinging, throbbing pain of a scraped knee. he'd dabbed at your injury with crumbled tissue and placed a colorful seance dog band-aid over your cut.

when you finished rubbing your eye with your tiny fist, you didn't see beading blood and irritated flesh, instead, you were met with big, dark brown eyes that glimmered as they stared into yours.

he was close enough to count his eyelashes.

“see?” he patted a chubby hand against your knee gently. “all better!”

and, yeah - heat spread across your cheeks with newfound emotion - it was all better. all evidence of injury, the throbbing pain and blood, was long gone save for the aid he’d given you.

he’d patched you up. he'd made you better. in more ways than one. and what remained was a fuzzy feeling inside your chest.

he’d grinned at you with missing front teeth.

and you found yourself grinning back.

CHAPTER 2

[cherrycocaineee]

39. Billy Hargrove - Ruined

* Synopsis: Billy Hargrove has been keeping an eye on Vivianne Blanchet for a while now; a sweet girl who was still somewhat new to Hawkins, Indiana. She was pure in every aspect and Billy just wanted to ruin her more times than once. *

* Warning: smut, rough, unprotected, drunk/tipsy sex, breeding, and anything else considered a warning. *

* Billy Hargrove’s p.o.v *

School hadn’t even started yet and she was already driving me crazy just standing beside her locker innocently. She was holding her books close to her chest while talking to one of her little friends about whatever it was girls talked about. Her lips were perfectly glossed, her hair bounced when she laughed, and her body moved delicately as she turned to talk to someone new. I couldn’t even pay attention to what the people were saying to me because she clouded all of my senses greedily. Even now while she was chatting it up with some guy, I couldn’t focus on the conversation I was supposed to be having. My eyes were glued to him, watching every move he made, daring him to lay a single finger on her. Her eyes fluttered close for a single second before they landed on me, a smile spreading across her perfectly, plump, dusk-rose lips as she waved at me. I smiled back giving her a small wave before she turned back to her friends.

 “She’s cute, isn’t she?” Tommy grinned, his eyes following mine towards Vivianne, “I’ve been checking her out too. Bet she’s a freak.”

A low growl rumbled deep in my chest as I forced myself to look away from her to glare at Tommy. He never stopped staring at her. I noticed the way he licked his lips, the way his eyes dragged down to take in all of her body; every predatorial move he made made me want to rip his throat out. Instead, I chose the latter. Grabbing his collar, I pushed him roughly against the wall. He let out a yelp at the sudden impact.

 “Back off,” I growled, “you hear me? She’s mine.”

 “Okay!” Tommy agreed, holding his hands up in surrender.

  I let go of his shirt just as the bell rang telling everyone to get to class. Vivianne was walking away with her friends towards whatever class she was supposed to have right now. I sighed, annoyed that neither of us had a class together due to the grade difference.

All day I couldn’t get her out of my head, specifically her voice. She was so innocently pure that I couldn’t stop picturing all the noises she would make just by me simply touching her. Or the sounds she would make with my cock pounding relentlessly into her tight cunt. Tommy was wrong, Vivianne wasn’t a freak in bed at all. No, she was innocent, barely knew a single thing and I’d have to teach her everything. I’d have to ruin every inch of her innocence.

  Lunch rolled around pretty quickly, and I walked into the cafeteria already searching for Vivianne. I spotted her sitting at a table by herself, her friends probably in the lunch line. Luckily she normally brought her own lunch from home, giving me a decent amount of time to talk to her before her friends decided to butt in. Tommy and the others waved me over but I ignored them walking straight to Vivianne. As I approached her, I saw her reading a book while chewing on a strawberry. I plopped down beside her and took the strawberry she was eating out of her hand and bit into it. She looked at me, smiling.

 “Hi, Billy,” she giggled.

Her just saying my name made my dick twitch.

 “Hey, gorgeous,” I grinned, “How’s your day been so far?”

 “Pretty good. What about you?”

 “Boring until right now.”

I peeked over at the book she was reading curiously. I noticed there were several sets of highlighters sitting beside her and the book was marked up.

 “You readin’ this for school, darlin’?” I asked.

She shook her head, “just for fun. My friends say it’s lame but it’s relaxing.”

  I picked up the book and flipped through the pages roughly but careful not to lose her spot. She didn’t seem to mind, going back to eating her strawberries while I fingered through her pages. Then something in the margins caught my eye and I had to do a double take to make sure I saw it correctly. In the margins, it said “this reminds me of Billy.” Next to that was a highlighted portion of the text; the girl was watching and admiring a tall, violant man who made her heart race. I grinned. So she was watching me too.

  “I remind you of this guy in the book?” I teased, pointing to where my name was.

Her bright, sinless eyes widing and her cheeks turning a vivid shade of red as she reached for the book. I just pulled it back, chuckling at her embarrassment.

 “I forgot I wrote that in there,” she blushed.

  “Am I in here anywhere else?”

 “There’s no need to tease.”

  “I’m not teasin’. I think it’s hot that you think of me.”

Vivianne covered her tomato red face with her hands, her hair shifting. I leaned over, moving her hair ever so slightly, letting my ring adorn hand brush against the exposed part of her face. Her skin was delicate and soft against my calloused hands. I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, my breath tickling her earlob causing a shiver to run throughout her body.

 “I think about you too, pretty girl. Always runnin’ through my head, drivin’ me crazy.”

 I spotted her eyes looking at me through her fingers before she went back to hiding herself from me. So shy, so innocent, so pure. So much for me to ruin.

Our time was cut short because her friends walked over and set their plates down.

 “Billy, leave Vivianne alone,” Sandy grumbled.

 I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand away from Vivianne reluctantly. My blue eyes staring daggers at Sandy, who was doing the same in return. Finally, Vivianne removed her hands from her face and the red color was gone from her skin.

 “He isn’t bothering me, Sandy,” she sweetly laughed, “he was just being friendly.”

 “Billy Hargrove is anything but friendly.”

Placing Vivianne’s book back in front of her, I stood up and placed my hands on her shoulders still watching Sandy.

 “I’m just not nice to ugly girls,” I grinned, “and Vivianne Blanchet is anything but ugly.”

 Sandy glared more almost squinting her eyes in the process. I leaned down and looked at Vivianne. She reached her hand out to Sandy probably ready to tell her that she wasn’t ugly because that was the type of girl she was. I pulled her hand back, letting my hand feel her skin a little longer.

  “See ya later, doll.”

Then I walked away from their table and could hear the harsh remarks Sandy was making about me angrily. Vivianne was desperately trying to calm her down, telling her whatever she wanted to hear just so she’d stop her rampage.

  After school, I was leaning against my car waiting for Max impatiently and grumbling to myself about how this girl was always late. I flicked my finished cigarette to the ground and groaned.

  “Waiting for someone?”

Looking over, I saw Vivianne standing there with her books pressed against her firmly and her bag slung over her shoulder. The fresh, summer breeze waving her hair around her perfect face. I smiled.

 “Just my brat of a sister,” I said.

 She leaned against my car with me, letting her arms fall so that her books were sitting in front of her lap.

 “Max, right?”

I nodded and she smiled.

 “She’s sweet.”

 “You think everyone’s sweet. Even me.”

 “Because you are sweet.”

 I chuckled. No one ever described me as sweet before, she was definitely the first.

Our timing never seemed to be right though because Max started walking this way with her skateboard in hand. Anger flared up inside me. The one time I now wanted her to take her time and she had to come rushing out. Vivianne tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

 “I guess I should let you get going.”

 Then an idea popped into my head.

 “I can drop my sister off and give you a ride home, if you’d like.”

 “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

Max stopped walking in front of us but I didn’t care, instead, I manuvered myself in front of Vivianne and grinned, touching her waist and just barely pulling her closer to me.

 “You aren’t imposin’ at all. I’ll drive ya.”

 “Thank you,” she squeaked.

I led her towards the passenger’s side barely stealing a glance at Max.

 “Get in the back,” I said, her eyes rolling as soon as the words left my mouth.

  I opened the passenger’s side door and helped Vivianne inside by holding her hand as she lowered herself into the seat. Once her legs were inside, I closed the door and went back to the driver’s side. Max was just barely putting her seatbelt on when I got in. I started the ignition before even closing my door and the door was closed, I sped off causing Max to swing to the other side of the backseat.

 “Hey!” She snapped.

 “Should have been buckled up faster,” I said, speeding off towards home so I could drop her off first.

 Vivianne turned to check on Max, apologizing even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. Max thanked her and buckled herself up quickly. The entire way to mine and Max’s house, she was talking to Vivianne about the most random shit and if it wasn’t for Vivianne I’d have told her to shut up. To keep my annoyance down, I squeezed the steering wheel letting my knuckles turn white.

Eventually we made it and I came to a screeching halt.

 “Alright, get out,” I said to Max.

 Max rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Vivianne, “bye, Vivianne!”

 “Bye, Max!” Vivianne chirped.

When my door was closed, I pulled out of the driveway and headed towards Vivianne’s house that was fortunately a thirty minute drive from here. I stole a glance at Vivianne, she was watching the trees fly by through the window.

 “So,” she said, “are you doing anything this Saturday?”

That was unexpected.

 “Not that I know of,” I said, “why? Was there somethin’ you wanted to do?”

 “There’s a party being thrown by some football player and I was invited. I was seeing if you were going to be there too.”

 I knew what party she was talking about, pretty much everyone in the school got an invitation to that party this weekend. I wasn’t planning on going, at least not unless someone had given me a reason to. Now sitting in front of me was a reason to go.

  “Are you goin’?” I asked.

 She shrugged, “Sandy doesn’t really like parties and most of my other friends will probably get drunk. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go or not. Just curious if you planned on going.”

 “You should go. I’ll be there, we can hang out together.”

 “You don’t want to get drunk with all your friends?”

I shook my head grinning. “Why would I hang out with them when I can hang out with you instead?”

Vivianne smiled, running her fingers through her hair.

  “Great. Then I’ll see you there.”

  The rest of the way to her house, we just talked about nonsense. It didn’t really matter what we were talking about, we were just talking. Eventually we pulled into her driveway, her father was standing in front of his car with the hood open until he heard my car pull up. He poked his head around the side of his car, wiping his hands on a greased up rag then started approaching.

  “Thank you for the ride,” Vivianne said, unhooking her seatbelt.

 “Let me get the door for you,” I said, climbing out and strolling over to her side.

 I opened the door for her and helped her out.

 “See?” She said, “Sweet.”

   “Only for you, pretty girl.”

 “Afternoon,” her dad called.

 “Hey, dad.”

 “Hey, Mr. Blanchet.”

He reached out his hand to shake mine, I didn’t even hesitate grinning as I shook his hand.

  “What’s your name, son?”

 “Billy Hargrove, sir.”

  “Well Billy, thank you for giving my little girl a ride home. She’d have been stuck up there awhile if you hadn’t been so kind.”

I gestured to the car he had been working on.

 “Somethin’ wrong with your car?”

 “Nah. That’s my wife’s car, just needed an oil change and a small tweek. I’m all finished now.”

“I’ll be in in a minute,” Vivianne said to her dad, “I’m just going to tell Billy bye.”

 “‘Course. See you inside.”

  He walked away from us, waving goodbye at me. I waved back.

 “I’ll see you at the party,” she said.

 “I’ll see you there too.”

I watched her walk away from me towards her home. My eyes travelling her body while she was faced away from me and landing on her ass. I licked my lips as I watched her hips sway back and forth. And when she was out of my line of sight, I groaned.

  Saturday night approached faster than I thought it would and the party was crowded way before it even started. Vivianne wasn’t here yet so I was lingering around with Tommy and the others sipping on a drink while I waited for her. Plenty of girls tried to talk to us since the beginning of the night but I could only think of Vivianne. I kept stealing glances at the front door when there was no one in front of it to see if she was the next person to walk in.

 “Billy, you alright?” Tommy asked, “Six total babes have tried to talk to you but you pushed them away.”

 “Fine,” I grumbled, “just waitin’ on someone. I’m goin’ to get another drink.”

 I was standing at the table where all the alcohol was and started mixing some drink together with a lot of vodka. I hadn’t planned on drinking too much but if I had been tricked into going to a party then I was going to drink heavily.

There was a tap on my shoulder and I sighed annoyed.

  “Haven’t I already made it clear…”

 I turned around and saw Vivianne standing there. Her doe eyes stared at me, her freshly painted dusk rose lips forming into a small pout. My eyes wandered all over her body; she was wearing a tight, somewhat revealing baby pink dress that barely reached her mid-thigh, she wore a pair of heels that matched her dress, and her hair flowed gracefully down her back in perfect waves. I could feel my jeans tighten as my cock stiffened.

  “I can give you a minute,” she said, pointing away from me.

 “No, no,” I said, taking her hand in mine, “I thought you were someone else, doll.”

 She smiled and nodded. “Sorry I’m a bit late. I was finishing getting ready.”

  I shrugged it off, sipping on my own drink then gesturing to the table. “Wanna drink? Or has my pretty girl never let a single drip of alcohol pass those lips?”

“I guess a drink won’t hurt. Something not so potent.”

I nodded my head and mixed her a drink with a moderate amount of liquor then handed her the red solo cup. She thanked me before taking a sip, her lipstick staining the side of the cup.

 “Good?”

 “Perfect.”

  I took her hand again and dragged her away from the table and over to somewhere that wasn’t as crowded as the rest of the house. I plopped down and patted the spot next to me, grinning from ear to ear. Vivianne sat shyly beside me, crossing her left leg over her right. I let my eyes trace over her again and dug fingers into the cushion of the seat to keep myself from ripping her dress off now. Vivianne looked at me, smiling softly and gesturing towards me.

 “You look nice,” she said, “handsome.”

 “Thank you,” I flirted, running my tongue over my bottom lip, “you look fantastic.”

 Vivianne played with her hair, her eyes avoiding me. I moved myself closer to her, our outer thighs touching and rested my hand on her knee.

 “Nervous, pretty?”

 “Maybe a little,” she laughed, “I’ve just never been to a party without my friends.”

 “Well, you got me. I’ll make sure you have a night you won’t forget.”

  The two of us sat there drinking and talking, telling each other random stories from our childhood. Other people from the party tried to approach us but their visits never lasted longer than a second after they saw the look on my face. Vivianne, either clueless or didn’t care, paid no mind to their sudden departures and always waved goodbye to them no matter who it was. An hour into the party and she was already feeling tipsy; she was a light weight and the small amount of vodka that I put in her drink was enough to get her drunk completely and she still had half a cup left. I reached over and took her cup.

 “Think you’ve had enough, doll,” I chuckled.

 “I think so too,” she laughed, “actually, I have to go to the bathroom.”

 “Let’s go, I’ll take ya.”

She was so trusting too that she didn’t even think about how inappropriate it was for me to take her to the bathroom, all the things that could happen once we were alone up there out of earshot of everyone enjoying the music and booze downstairs. Vivianne and I headed upstairs towards the bathroom. I practically had my chest pressed against her back as walked up the stairs and down the hall. She didn’t seem to mind, in fact, it seemed welcomed. When we got to the bathroom, she walked inside and I stood in the hall leaned against the wall finishing my drink.

  Vivianne left the bathroom about three minutes later, closing the door behind her with a sigh.

 “Tired?” I asked.

Her eyes turned to me and half smiled.

 “Overwhelmed,” she corrected.

 “How about we go somewhere else so you can relax a bit, pretty?”

 “You don’t have to go with. I’m sure your friends would like to see you tonight.”

 “Well that’s too bad for them,” I smirked, “because I don’t plan on leavin’ your side.”

  She nodded her head and I pulled her along with me until I found us a room to be in. She went inside first while I held the door open for her then I followed close behind and locked the door behind us. I didn’t want anyone coming up here and bothering us. She laid on the bed, her arms sprawled out over the comforter, her legs dangling off the edge of the mattress. I finished the rest of my drink and walked over to where she way laying. My eyes grazed every inch of her intoxicated body. I noticed her eyes were closed and her fingers were playing with the ends of her hair. I climbed ontop of her and her eyes snapped open; my legs were on either side of her blocking her against my body.

 “Billy,” she whispered.

 “Shh,” I chirped, “just relax, darlin’.”

I watched her wiggle against my legs and chuckled. I moved myself so that I was half laying on her and half laying on the bed, my knee nuzzled inbetween her thighs inches away from her clothed heat. I had myself kind of propped up with one arm, using my fingers to play with her hair that practically melted in my hands. With the other hand, I touched her waist drawing shapes through the fabric of her thin dress. She bit her plump bottom lip, her eyes watching me intensely. I could see her chest heaving in and out as her breath quickened.

  “You’ve been drivin’ me crazy all night,” I whispered, my lips getting closer to hers, “goin’ upstairs with me all alone probably wasn’t a good idea, doll.”

 “I’m not scared,” she muttered, “I trust you.”

“Yeah baby, you trust me?”

She nodded her head. Her hand reached up and touched my face slightly, her eyes half-lidded as the alcohol she consumed more of her. I tore her hand away from my face pinning it back down.

 “Answer the question,” I growled.

 “Yes.”

 “Yes what?”

 “Yes, I trust you, Billy.”

 Once those words were out of her mouth, I attached my lips to her kissing her hard. Her fingers squeezed my own and I tangled the other hand into her hair deepening the kiss. Vivianne didn’t even try to fight for dominance, letting my tongue slip past her lips with no fight and letting me explore every inch of her mouth. Our saliva started coming out of the corners of our mouth. I pulled away breathlessly, watching a string of spit connect between our lips.

  “Take your dress off for me,” I groaned, sitting up and giving her the freedom to move.

 She never took her eyes off of me as she got off the bed, kicking her heels off and reaching behind her to unzip her dress. She froze once the zipper was down, using her hands to hold her dress up now.

 “I-I’ve never done this before,” she muttered.

 “Trust me,” I grinned, “I know. Just do exactly what I tell you. Take off your dress.”

Vivianne took her hands off her dress and it fell to the floor. My breath hitched as I laid eyes on her lingerie; it was white and lacey and covered very little. I gestured for her to come closer to me and she didn’t hesitate this time, her body stood between my legs and my hands roamed every inch of her exposed skin. I squeezed her hips tightly and ran my tongue over her stomach, all the way up to where her bra was just barely touching her breast. My dark eyes looked up at her and watched her head fall back from just my tongue touching her skin. I chuckled.

 “Let’s remove this,” I hummed, using one hand to unclasp her bra and throwing it to the side somewhere.

Her nipples were hard from the exposture. I hungrily took her left nipple in my mouth while tweaking the other one with my fingers. She gasped, back arching against nothing, pushing her closer to my body as I sucked harshly. A soft whimper was pulled from her lungs. When I was finished, her nipple was wet with saliva and the other one was worn out from being pinched. As I stood up, I pushed her onto the bed staring at her. I removed my black, leather jacket and red, button up tossing them on the ground with her own clothes. I took off my belt and unbuttoned my pants to give my cock some room. Grabbing her legs, I pulled her towards the edge of the bed and dropped to my knees. My lips peppered kisses along her thighs while my hands squeezed at the exposed flesh. Vivianne had propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes watching every move I made with lust in her eyes.

  I got closer and closer to her core. Her scent was just as intoxicating as the alcohol I had consumed. I hooked my fingers to her pearly white panties and dragged them down her legs revealing her pretty, pink cunt. I licked my lips before bringing my mouth to her core. Vivianne’s body flinched as my tongue pushed between her wet folds and I held her in place. I watched her squirm as I moved my tongue tasting every part of her. She was sweet; she hadn’t even came yet and her juices already tasted like nectar. I hummed against her and she moaned, falling back on the bed. I started picking up the pace, assaulting her clit viciously with my tongue. Her moans grew louder filling up the room. Even with my jeans unbuttoned and the belt off, my cock was struggling to breath. I coated her thoroughly before slipping a finger into her, feeling her soft, spongy walls contract against a single finger. The entire time I worked my finger into her, I never took my mouth off of her pussy. Soon enough she was all worked up and relaxed that I was able to slip another finger in earning another string of moans from her. I fucked them into her while slurping and nipping tenderly at her clit.

  “B-Billy,” she moaned, “I…”

 She couldn’t finish her sentence as I continued to fuck my fingers into her, hitting every sweet spot I could reach with just two fingers. I knew what she was gonna say, she was almost there. My sweet, little virgin was about to cum all over my face and fingers. All that did was help me pump faster so she could cum.

  “F-Fuck!” She cursed, her legs shaking as her orgasm crashed into her.

Waves of her juices washed over my face and coated my fingers. I fucked her through her climax, watching her body react to the aftershock of her first orgasm for the night. I slurped every drop of her juices then removed my fingers from inside her, climbing on top of the bed and grinning at her, my face glistening.

  “You taste so fuckin’ good,” I groaned, I brought my coated fingers up to her lips, “Have a taste, pretty.”

 Her mouth fell open and I stuck my fingers in her mouth. Her lips wrapped around them and softly sucked drinking up every inch of herself. I moaned as I watched her drink herself up, her saliva replacing her juices.

 “Atta girl,” I grinned, I pulled my fingers from her mouth with a pop, “now it’s my turn.”

She looked at me a bit confused and I patted her head.

 “So innocent. Have no idea what I’m talkin’ about, huh?”

  I took her hand into mine and led her off the bed. She looked up at me with her bright, wide eyes.

 “On your knees,” I ordered.

   She didn’t fight me, she didn’t tell me no, she just kneeled down in front of me while still watching me with her eyes. I pulled my cock free from my pants and sighed once it was released. Vivianne and I made eye contact with each other.

  “Open, darlin’.”

 Her mouth fell open obediently.

 “Stick your tongue out.”

 Her tongue rolled out of her mouth and I chuckled.

 “Good girl.”

I tapped my hardened cock against her tongue, the wetness from it causing a slapping sound. The sound caused me to moan and lay my head back. Then I pushed it all the way in her mouth, all of her saliva slobbering up every inch of my dick. She started gagging once the tip hit the back of her throat but I didn’t pull away. I rocked my hips faster, pushing my cock further down her throat. Tears started falling from her eyes as I forced her to choke on my cock. I started panting, my hand wrapping around her hair so she couldn’t pull herself away from me.

  “Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl.”

 I picked up the pace, my grip on her hair tightening as I continued to fuck her mouth. Her drool started falling to the floor, pooling at her knees. She hummed around my cock, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them again.

  “A-Aah,” I groaned, “f-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

My thrust got a bit sloppy before I spilled my seed into her mouth. Some dripped to the floor with a mix of saliva, but most of it was in her mouth. I told her not to swallow just yet as I pulled out still rock solid. Her mouth wasn’t enough, I needed to feel that cunt squeezing around my cock. Taking my hand, I placed it on her face, under her chin, making her look at me directly in the eyes.

  “Let me see,” I muttered, lowly.

  Vivianne’s mouth opened and I saw all of my cum sitting there prettily on her tongue. I grinned as I pushed her mouth close with my fingers.

 “Swallow.”

I watched her swallow all of it. Then I picked her up and laid her on the bed, climbing on top of her naked form. Her eyes were hazy.

 “So pretty,” I hummed, “Once I’m finished with you, no one will be able to fuck you as good as I do, doll.”

 “Please,” she whispered.

 “Please?” I grinned, “Please what?”

  Her body wiggled against the sheets, underneath me causing my cock to twitch at how smooth her skin felt against my own.

 “Please, fuck me,” she whined.

I licked my lips still grinning from ear to ear as I pulled her legs around my torso, lining myself up with her glistening cunt. There was no time for prepping, no time for easing it in. I needed her, I was desperate to feel her, even if it meant hurting her just a little bit. So I pushed myself into her causing her to yelp from pain as I stretched her out. I held her still when she started to pull herself from me wanting to get away.

  “You can take it,” I growled into her ear.

 Vivianne’s legs tightened around my torso almost squeezing the life out of me and making it harder for me to move but I managed. Once I was completely inside her, I let her adjust to the size, needing her to ease up, her pussy was squeezing me so tight I wouldn’t last if she didn’t relax. Soon, Vivianne’s body loosened up and she wasn’t holding me so hard anymore.

 “Better?” I asked.

She nodded.

 “Good.”

  I pulled my cock all the way out, the tip barely inside her before slamming back into her. Vivianne’s back arched off the bed as a scream rippled through her lips. I started pumping in and out of her watching as her breast jiggled with each snap of my hips. Moans and pants left my body as I used my hand to spread her legs wider to get a deeper angle. I could hear all the lewd squelching sounds of her cunt as I plunged my cock into her repeatedly, a ring of white forming around the base of my cock from all of her flowing juices. My hand wrapped around her neck just tight enough to make her a little breathless but not so much so she could still breath. Vivianne’s body was shaking, her eyes rolling back into her skull as I fucked her roughly.

  “It…it feels so good,” Vivianne cried out, her hands squeezing the comforter beneath us.

 “Yeah, baby,” I groaned, “s-shit. This pussy’s squeezing me so f-fucking tightly. All mine, you hear me. I’ll kill…a-ah…I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you.”

Vivianne nodded her head .

 “Nu-uh. Use your words. Who do you belong too?”

 “Y-you,” she choked out.

I grinned, moving my hips faster and faster, drilling my cock deeper and deeper into her. All of her juices were coating her thighs, my cock, and a little bit of my torso. She was so messy, it was hot. I nuzzled my head into her neck, removing my hand from her throat but not stopping the speed or force of my hips. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair and pulling each time I brushed against her sweet spot. I latched my mouth onto her neck and sucked harshly creating a purple mark against her skin. I did it a few more times too leaving a big mark that almost looked like a bruise on her neck. Sweat dripped from my hair, falling on her already thinly coated face. I growled against her as she tightened, probably getting close to her release.

 “I-I’m so cl-close,” she moaned out, “fuck, fuck.”

“Let me see it, baby,” I growled, “Cum on my fuckin’ cock. Show me what a messy, little slut you are.”

She moaned loudly at my words, her legs were shaking around me as her pussy gushed all around my cock. Her arms released me as she arched her back off the bed.

 “Good fuckin’ girl,” I moaned, “I’m almost there...shit.”

  “B-Billy,” she whined, “It’s too…it’s too much.”

 I didn’t listen to her, just kept fucking her roughly, my thrust getting sloppier the closer I got to my own climax.

 “G-gonna breed that little cunt of yours, doll,” I panted, “Fill that pussy up, make you all mine. Forever.”

More of her juices flowing as she got more and more aroused from the words I was saying. I gripped her hair tightly in my hands and pounded into her roughly.

 “Please,” she moaned, “p-please come inside me, Billy.”

 “Fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

   Hot spurts of my cum were planted deep inside her coating her walls. I shuttered against her as I finished. A few minutes passed with me still buried inside of Vivianne’s abused cunt, then I pulled out and fell beside her. Both of us were breathing fast so we could catch our breaths. I felt her shiver beside me and I chuckled, wrapping my arm around her tired body.

 “Sleepy, pretty girl?” I questioned.

 “Mmm.”

 “Let’s get you to my house, hmm. We can sleep real good there, doll.”

 “In a second,” Vivianne whined.

I chuckled and buried my head into her and wrapped us in the used comforter. There was nothing to worry about right now, the door was locked and we weren’t going to be bothered. For the first time in a long time, I could relax.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Bend us, Break us Pt. 4 ~Sub!Larissa Weems xSub!Morticia Addams xFem Dom!Tall!Shapeshifter!Reader

Anon request—(What sets Reader off is when she peaks into Rissa's office and sees them masterbating side by side but they don't know Reader saw till she gets home) (Biting kink(likes to bite and be bit, Morticia), spanking(both), Daddy kink(both), shapeshifter peen(Reader), praise kink(both), they both absolutely PREEN at being called good girls and melt on the spot (literally ruined underwear).

Link to Part 1, Part 2, & Part 3

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, teasing, spanking, bondage, vibrator, punishing, strap fucking, doggystyle, biting kink, Daddy kink, spanking kink, praise kink, degrading kink, shapeshifting d!ck, etc…

Part 4 & End of mini series

Enjoy (;

Both women continued their administrations, recording it all, but little did they know… you had stayed right outside Larissa’s cracked open door, watching their every single move…

When you had seen enough to cause you to soak through your knickers, you walked off with a ache in between your legs and one determined thought, Larissa and Morticia were going to pay for that bratty act…

~~~

You went through the entire day with an ache in between your legs and the ingraved image of Larissa and Morticia fucking themselves in Larissa’s office… They had broken your rules and they were going to pay for it… It had been eating away at you all day. And the soonest you could do something about it, you would.

Morticia had planned to send the little mighty video to you at dinner, but you decided to see the two right after your last class, skipping dinner all together. You walked down the corridors to Morticia’s classroom, catching the class as it dismissed.

You walked up and around the desk to the goddess in her black dress. Morticia’s eyes lit up at the sight of you. Without warning you scooped the the woman up and she instinctually straddled your waist. You then pushed her against the wall as your lips attacked hers.

“Daddy…?” Morticia desperately whimpered through the dominating kiss.

“I advise you don’t speak until your spoken to, slut…” you growled, drinking in the reaction you were getting from her.

Morticia merely whimpered and nodded in response.You then carried her through her classroom and out to the corridor, while your lips were still ravaging hers. Morticia’s breath hitched as you began walking through the corridors, with the very real possibility of you two being caught.

Morticia was pulled out of her head when she felt you bite down on her pressure point, making her cry out in pleasurable pain. You had broken her skin and when you fiercely connected your lips back to hers, Morticia could taste her blood on your tongue, making her moan only more.

You made it quickly to Larissa’s office, barging in without knocking, and placing a breathless and needy Morticia on the desk of the blonde.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have to call you back…” Larissa quickly told whoever was on the phone, before quickly hanging up.

“Strip, sweet slut…” you husked into Morticia’s ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

You then turned your attention over to Larissa who was sitting at her chair, stunned and confused. You walked over to her side of the desk.

“You haven’t been a very good girl… Neither has ‘Tish…” you purred with an edge.

Larissa blushed, recalling her earlier activities, but she though Morticia hadn’t sent the video yet.

“What do you mean, Daddy…?” Larissa asked, switching glances from you who was towering above her to Morticia who had bite marks and hickeys all over her neck and was now sitting on the edge of the desk, completely naked.

“Get up.”

Larissa immediately followed your word, and you quickly swapped position with the blonde, tripping her to fall leaned over on your lap. Larissa yelped at the sudden change. You quickly rolled up her dress to reveal her cream colored ass.

“Watch what happens when you break the rules…” you purred towards Morticia, who was sitting stone still, gawking at your and Larissa.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Larissa cried out in pain with a mixture of pleasure as smacked her ass. Hard.

“Fuck Daddy…! Please…!” Larissa whimpered.

“I saw you earlier today…” you warily purred, “Take your punishment like a good girl.”

Smack!

Smack!

Both the women’s eyes widened at the realization of what you were referring to.

“Did you really think you could get away with being so bratty and not get punished my Daddy…?” You lustfully spewed.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

“Oh God Daddy please I’m sorry…” Larissa cried out.

“Shhhh… Be too loud sweet girl and the whole school will know who you belong to…” you chuckled, as you caressed the blonde’s flush red ass.

You then placed the flushed blonde, her legs trembling, on the other side of the desk, walking back around to a whimpering Morticia who was practically begging to be put in her place…

You eyed her luscious, naked form, licking your lips hungrily…

“So you can be a good girl and follow instructions…?” You toyed.

Morticia nodded vigorously, pleading with you, “Yes Daddy please I’ll be such a good girl…!”

You scooped her back up, her legs locking into your waist once more and her face nuzzling itself in your neck, her lips leaving kisses and bite marks along your neck. You let out a strained moan at her administrations.

With that you turned to Larissa, “Strip and wait for me. I’ll be back, sweet slut…” you purred with that same punishing edge.

Larissa gulped and nodded, “Yes Daddy…” she whispered.

You then turned back around and carried Morticia into Larissa’s private quarters, which were attached to her office. You threw the goddess on the bed.

“Stay.”

“Yes Daddy…” she whimpered.

You went to Larissa’s closet and rummaged through her drawer of toys. Once you’d located your toys of choice, you stripped down to your undergarments. You came out of the closet and met Morticia’s gaze, whose mouth dropped at the sight of you.

“Like something you see, sweet slut…?” You teased.

Morticia gulped and nodded, “You… stunning…” she whispered, practically speechless at your sleek, black garter lingerie set.

“Awww, my sweet sluts already dumb with words…?” You toyed with her.

It was then that Morticia noticed what your were holding in your hands. She whimpered as she noticed you holding silk ties and a small vibrator. You then came to straddle the goddess and placed her spread out across the bed for you to properly tie her up. Morticia moaned out at how dominant you were being. You grabbed her wrist and tied it to the bedpost. And then the other. You then placed the vibrator on her clit and turned it on, causing Morticia to yelp.

“Not a word…” you warned her, “and don’t even think about cumming…”

Morticia whimpered in response and reluctantly nodded, pulling lightly on her restraints. You then got off of her and went back to the office to attend to Larissa. You entered the office to find a needy and completely naked Larissa, sitting on the edge of her desk.

“Ass still sore?” You toyed with the blonde.

Larissa’s eyes widened at the sight of what you were wearing, “Yes Daddy…” she whimpered.

You came over to her and slotted yourself in between her legs.

“And just how wet did me spanking your pretty little ass make you, slut…?

Larissa whimpered in response, arching her back for your touch, “so wet Daddy… please Fuck so wet…”

You hummed in satisfaction with her answer, then scooping her up with a yelp from Larissa and carrying her bridal style to her bed. You placed her on the floor on the edge of the bed, and you then sat yourself on the edge of the bed, your cunt merely hidden from Larissa by your black knickers.

You both could hear the vibrator and Morticia desperately trying to muffle her moans and cries. Larissa bit her lip and blushed at the sight. You grabbed her chin and swiveled it back to you.

“Be a good girl and make Daddy feel good…” you purred, opening your legs even more.

Larissa immediately obeyed, whisking your knickers off and delving her tongue into your soaked cunt. You grabbed her blonde curls, which she had taken down while you had been gone, and tugged her even deeper into your pussy with a guttural moan.

“Fuck… such a good girl right there…!” You moaned out.

Larissa desperately rutted her hips into nothing as she ate you out with her skilled tongue. Morticia pulled against her ties and tried her hardest not to cry as the vibrator edged her on and she watched you unravel in front of her.

You were quick to come, screaming how much of a good girl Larissa was being, which only made Larissa even more needy and desperate. Morticia was also a mewling mess, bucking her hips violently in need for some sort of release. Once you had come down from your high you ordered Larissa to untie Morticia and for them both to wait patiently on the bed. The two scrambled to your command, in hope that you would have mercy on them.

When you turned around from the edge of the bed, their mouths dropped. You smirked as they gawked at your shifted member. You could see both of their brains completely short circuiting in that moment.

“Tell me what you want, sweet sluts…” you tauntingly purred.

“Want you to fuck me Daddy…!” Larissa pled, the first and most desperate to speak.

“Wanna be bitch fucked Daddy please!!” Morticia cried.

You chuckled at their neediness. Although you yourself needed release pretty quickly as well…

“‘Rissa spread yourself out on the bed. ‘Tish, sweet girl, ride ‘Rissa’s face, while Daddy fucks her to high heaven.” You purred.

Both women moaned in delight at your words. And they were quick to follow your words. Morticia swiftly straddled the blondes head as soon as she had splayed herself out on the bed. A pornographic moan escaped Morticia’s lips as Larissa’s tongue swiped through her folds.

“That’s right…” you purred, lining yourself up to Larissa’s aching cunt, “Tell everyone who owns you, sweet slut…”

With that, you slid into Larissa heat, causing Larissa’s eyes to roll back and a cry of pleasure to escape her lips and vibrate into Morticia’s core. You let out a groan as you bottomed the blondes delicious cunt out.

“Fuck— Daddy please…” Larissa mewled through Morticia’s cunt, “Fuck me please!!”

You didn’t need to be told twice with how she was squeezing your dick… you began pounding into the blonde, eliciting moans and cries from Larissa, begging you not to stop.

“Oh GOD fuck Daddy M’mm close!! Wanna cum please…!!” Morticia cried out, rutting her hips against Larissa’s face.

“Me too Daddy Fuck me!!!” Larissa screamed as you pounded into that spongey spot inside her.

“Fuck, come for me good girls… Daddy’s close too…” you groaned.

In one fell swoop, all three of you came; Morticia squirting her juices all over Larissa’s face, Larissa clenching around and milking your cock, and you spurting you cum and painting Larissa’s walls with the sticky substance. And they cried out your name like broken records.

Once everyone had started to regain their composures, you carefully slid out of Larissa. Larissa mewled in her sex fog in response.

“Awww, is my good girl fucked dumb already…?” You teased.

“Just… need a break Daddy…” Larissa whimpered.

“That’s alright, sweet girl, Daddy needs to bitch fuck your slutty friend anyway…” you purred, glancing over to Morticia with a glint in your eye.

Morticia’s senses pricked up at your words.

“Yes please Daddy!! Fuck me please…!” She pled.

You chuckled and went to scoop up Larissa and place her against the head board.

“Be a good girl for Daddy as I rail your slutty friend, hmmm?” You purred, cupping the blondes cheek and giving her a peck on the lips.

Larissa lightly nodded with a gentle smile.

You then went around and grabbed Morticia’s hips, making her yelp. You dragged her in a position where she was facing Larissa, on all fours with her ass in the air.

Your cock was dripping with Larissa’s juices, as it hit Morticia’s clit. Morticia moaned out in desperation, raising and wiggling her ass in her neediness.

“Use your words, good girl…” you purred into her ear, making Morticia shiver.

“Fuck me Daddy!! Fuck me so hard pound into me God please…!!” She begged with strained cries.

And you were more than happy to comply. You both groaned as you sheethed yourself into her aching cunt. You were quick to snap your hips and ram your dick fully into Morticia’s tight hole, making her cry out in pleasurable pain. And then you fucked her. Hard.

You had Morticia cumming over and over again, while Larissa just watched with a stunned face as you fucked Morticia dumb. When you had properly filled her pretty pussy, you finally relented and pulled out of her. Morticia whined from overstimulation, and you immediately brought her into your lap.

“You did so good for Daddy… were such a good girl…” you purred, while caressing her cheek.

At that Morticia nuzzled her face in the crook of your neck. And Larissa was quick to snuggle into your side. You shifted back to your normal cunt with a sigh of relief, and morphed into the other two women’s embrace with a caring smile.

~~~

Tag list: @scream-queenlover @weemssapphic @dopenightmaretyphoon @s-c-rambledegggs @fleurdemaesblog @ladyzmilf002 @principal-weems09 @hercules240414 @grumpyheartbear @bigolgay @specialsatyr @wandanatslittlewhore @sicklygrlsicklygrl @snakeskins-world @lilsmeaux @muddledthoughts @teenybean @thesamesweetie @enchantressb @opheliauniverse @blessmysouljessisonaroll @shyladyfan @lady-darkswan3 @v3nusxsky @willowshadenox

[sleeplesssmol]

Trail: Opened Sandwich (Ch 3 Nouvelles et Textes pour Rien)

This is Vertin's conversation with the Grumpy Man after she was placed in a coma. It gives insight on Mesmer Jr. and the trauma she and Vertin deal with. I included the screenshots under the transcription. Vertin's responses are italicized.

Transcription:

No, you are not awake yet. You are still drowned in this mire of meditation-sticky, swampy, and dark.

Where am I?

Welcome to nihility, Ms. Too Many Questions. You might be in an ocean, a well, the base of a ring finger … whatever.

At that "warm invitation," you are rewarded with some mold-like bruises on your legs. "The paramecia" think this gift will force you to give in.

But for you, the invisible wounds are much more severe.

Don't worry. They are not gentle at all, but neither are you benign.

"They are …?"

A group of people in gowns. Their gowns are made of white polyester and are over knee-length. There are seven, namely No. 1 to No. 7.

Probably only those odd-number guys are here. Or maybe No. 4 or 6 is also with them … Damn it, I don't care.

What matters is that your classmate is among them. No, not the gentle and loyal one who always stands by your side (Sonetto).

It is the other one-the one with indifferent outlines that makes her look like a refined machine (Mesmer Jr.).

Let's skip her first name and only pay attention to her glorious family name, like what most people did.

Like sherry cask whiskies to the alcoholic, Upmann Cedar Aged Robusto Cameroon to smokers … and the Mesmers to the arcanists.

"What do they do?"

Anything mystical. When they sit there and point at you with an iron stick, you'll pass out. When they put an iron ring around your neck, you'll feel burnt.

You must be familiar with all these freaky tricks, because you are surrounded by freaky tricksters, like that little girl who protects others with her glass dipping pen or that floating apple dancing in the air (Sonetto, Regulus, Apple).

The Mesmers know how to suffocate the flames of consciousness; they help you free fall internally to the bottom of the abyss … as you are now.

It's really hard finding an arcanist who can freely master such skill. As you know, scarcity causes tragedy.

That was the start of her nightmare: when the Child Labor Law was turned into a piece of wrinkled paper to wrap the sandwich.

The young daughter of the Mesmer family was led to a room when she was 12. Before she stepped in, she had sensed the messy magnetic field on the other side of the door, thanks to her acute perception.

Compared to humans, arcanists are much more emotionally vulnerable. It won't take much to overwhelm them and force them to regress to animals.

The Mesmers are merciful and professional. They will never turn away any patient who comes to them for treatment.

… By then, you should realize the wrapping paper was never protecting the sandwich, but the hand.

The mustard from an unknown bottle, the squeezed meatloaf, and rusty lettuce leaf, all were crushed and fell out from between the bread.

Just like the chaotic noises and the raspy screaming that fill her ears … This filth contaminated the little girl's hands and corrupted the white polyester.

". . ."

Hmm, it is indeed a good time for silence.

Now you've noticed those exposed wounds on the machine, those marks from repeated washing and adjustments.

Well, the traumata from childhood is usually hard to forget.

Those memories are engraved in our heart and run through our veins … Eventually, they contaminate every single neuron with mucous snot.

Since then, every inch of growth is an extension of pain. New bones will be eroded and the condition can't be cured by cellular renewal.

Both you and her are familiar with this.

Okay, take your suitcase. Now it's time …Get lost!

[moowithmidnight]

Spencelle headcanons

- Both of them are just so bisexual, but neither of them are out because they don’t want to risk their jobs. Elle has known for a while, and Spencer is still untangling it while they’re “together”

- After Elle left, Spencer went to Garcia to ask if she could track her down, and then proceeded to totally breakdown in Garcia’s office. They never talked about it again, and Spencer asked her to keep it a secret, which she took very seriously. But every year on the day she left, Garcia will pay extra attention to Spencer.

- Elle left a few personal items at Spencer’s, and he keeps them all in a certain drawer on his nightstand. She used to leave concealer there in case he wanted to cover up the dark circles he got from working late hours. When he was an addict, he used to use it to cover up his track marks.

- Elle used to try to teach him Spanish, but his pronunciation continued to be terrible and she gave up. Despite that, they would watch old Spanish movies, or- if it was a bad post-Garner day, nostalgic soap operas together. (When she came back after Garner, Reid asked which soap opera Elle said she’d considered watching out of boredom)

- They used to play poker together at insane hours, like at 2 in the morning, and Spencer almost always won. Every time Elle won instead, she’d find a way to brag about it at the BAU. It took a long time for Spencer to believe that he wasn’t somehow betraying her when he started playing consistently with Emily

- Neither of them ever slept great. Spencer would sometimes call her late at night, and she would almost always answer. She still answered, but post-Garner, Elle never called him first. He’d asked about it one day and she’d brushed it off as her dislike of phones.

- After Elle left, Spencer would periodically send her emails. She checked her inbox everyday, read every single one, never responded and never planned to. She only did when he finally confessed that he’d become addicted and the team wasn’t helping. She called him, and Reid cried.

- Spencer was wildly insecure the entire time they were “together” about how she’d picked him over anyone else. He never told her that, but it bled through, and Elle couldn’t understand why he didn’t realize how incredible he was. Their views of each other were so different.

- He would read up on all of her interests and hobbies so he could talk to her about them. She’d always listen to what he was ranting about regardless, but he liked seeing her light up when he started talking about something she was passionate about.

[colourstreakgryffin]

If it's okay can I please ask for a platonic yandere Adam and Eve with you komori

Reader that still has PTSD from being used as a blood bag

And still has the heeled bit marks

To give you a description on her she's super sweet kind-hearted careful and shy

If you are uncomfortable with this you don't have to take this request

To be honest! I would never imagine I’d see my beloved father and mother become Yandere but you know what! I wanna check this out and see what I can do so let’s try it out!

Yandere! Adam and Eve- Broken Little Heart

The parents of humanity had always loved their children. Every single one, their attachment to mankind went to all the souls but yet. Neither of the couple could have predicted finding one child of their own to be so wonderful, their lives would change for good

You… a innocent little girl rescued by Adam after he and his dear wife, Eve found out you were being treated as a blood bag by a bunch of older men. Adam may love his children but his protective nature over actual children beat that as he beat down the men with Eve running to your rescue to pick you up

The parents of humanity grew attached to you very quick, out of their natures to simply love children but their love for you wasn’t very normal. It started relatively innocent but then it got it corrupted over their obsession to keep you as their child

Adam grew obsessively protective and talkative with you. You cannot touch anything without Adam taking it from you and examining it to make sure it’s safe for you whilst he holds you to his chest. He is rather controlling but he always proclaims it’s for your safety and nothing more as he holds you in his lap

Eve is clingy and possessive. She constantly follows you around, much like Adam and she always tries to hug you, hold you and cuddle you to her bare chest. She needs affection from her beloved little daughter; just focus on her, not whatever you’re playing with

Their presences are suffocating as they’ll never let you have a breath of your own. One or both are around 24/7 and it seems to you, they view you as a precious little infant that needs constant parenting, due to your past trauma

Both parents love how sweet-hearted, shy and careful you are. You’re the embodiment of purity and innocence, and that must be protected at all causes, their want to protect you drove both of them to become so unhinged and possessive over you, they can’t interact with others without snapping

Adam and Eve are nowhere near as obsessive and crazed over their actual biological sons then they are to you. They do love their sons with all their hearts but for you, you require so much care and attention that looking after you draws away all of their time from the two boys that actually share their blood and DNA

They both understand how emotionally fragile you are. You’re cheerful and optimistic, with a naive and indecisive streak, this behaviour further drives Adam and Eve to take charge of you and ensure nothing can hurt you. Ensure you grow love for them back, no matter what

Eve loves comparing your light blonde hair to Adam’s. You can come off as their biological child very easily and honestly… you don’t really mind as on your end, you don’t recognise their blaring Yandere-like traits, you only notice their intense parental love for you… finally, a true family

The more you respond positively to their parenting, the more their Yandere traits grow and when anybody tries to intervene, it’s get messy. Adam throws hands with literally anybody who hurts you in the most brutal manner whilst Eve picks you up and yells at the person at the top of her lungs

How dare anybody hurt your precious little feelings? Anybody who does shall pay a huge price

The parents will never ever force their ideals of living onto you. You don’t want to be naked because it’s cold and uncomfortable? That’s completely fine to them, as long as it makes you happy. That’s all they care about, that you’re happy with them

And you truly are happy with them. They may be corrupted and with black poisonous souls now but they are both such caring, loving parents that rejecting them would be a silly idea. They have flaws but Adam and Eve are the best parental figures you’ve ever had

Both Adam and Eve will never let your PSTD damage you anymore. They’ll do everything they can to ensure it never affects you again, Adam continues to play with you in a soft manner as Eve brushes her fingers through your hair to further comfort you

All in specific strategies to help you get over your trauma for good and not care so much about those bite and needle scars on your skin anymore

“My little one, are you okay? Oh. A child scared you with stories about vampires? Do not worry now, your father is here to protect you from all of the scary bad things. Okay? May we hug so I can prove to you I’ll always be here”

“My baby daughter! What happened? Did you scrap your knee? Oh no! Don’t worry, mother will make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore! Here, let me pick you up, Mother will heal you and make all the pain go away forever!”

[hyvcklvr]

love language -Mark Lee

Mark, your classmate, had a huge crush on you, but he was way too awkward and shy to talk to you. Instead, his love language to you was music.

He'd quietly snatch a place next to you on the bus and after some time probably offer you one side of his earphones. “Uh.. if you like.. wanna..” He was so flustered and awkward about it, you found it cute.

He asked you what you wanna listen to, knowing exactly which song he'd play when you said you were okay with anything he plays.

Mark had a playlist of songs to listen with you, full of songs he's listened to over and over again to make sure they match your taste and convey the genuine amount of attraction he holds for you. He probably psychoanalysed every lyric to make them coincide with the situation you're both in.

“What's the name of this song? Its really good.” You asked after each song ended.

That's when he knew he had done a good job, and smiled and blushed before eagerly sharing the song with you.

Of course he'd let you choose music as well, and he'll make a mental note of the songs you recommended to him and listened to with him. Coincidentally (not), those same songs will end up being his most played for the rest of the year.

Something about sitting next to each other and sharing a mere wire between the two of you felt so intimate, especially because you were both too shy to talk to each other. Neither of you were paying attention to anything else on the bus, all the chaos seemed to have been cut off as the song connected the both of you, looking away from each other, humming the tune and bopping your heads. Sometimes Mark looked at you and found you lipsyncing along to the lyrics while looking out the window. Your shoulders were touching each other's. The single wire of the earphone hung between the two of you.

send in asks!

masterlist

[ghostofaboy]

Inter-Agency Cooperation

Summary: Jack runs into another agent on a mission and figures out a new way for them both to get what they want.

Pairing: Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels/Javier Peña Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only | Word Count: 2633

Warnings: Frottage, anal sex, public sex, Jack is his own warning

Note: This as not been beta read so I apologize for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay/bi characters. Please make sure you've read the warnings. Header by @beskarandblasters

Of all the places Jack thought he'd find himself today, a dive bar in the middle of butt fuck nowhere watching a cage fight wasn't even on his list. Silly, really, considering all the strange places his Statesman missions took him. All around him, large drunken men in plaid shirts jeered and shouted at the two half naked men in the cage. The entire bar stank of stale beer and sweat, which made Jack long for the heady woody smells of the Statesman barrel room, but he couldn't argue with the view.

In the cage, a massive slapdash metal structure that dominated the center of the rundown establishment, were two young men. Neither could have been older than twenty-five, both striped to the waist in just their jeans, and both covered in blood and sweat. It was the most homoerotic shit Jack had ever seen in such a painfully hetero bar. He had to stifle a laugh whenever he thought about it.

Taking another sip of his shitty beer, Jack glanced over to his mark, only to find him in the exact same spot since the last time he checked. Fast asleep in a corner booth, drooling into his thick, bushy beard. Another quick look around the bar confirmed that no one else was paying either of them any attention; except for one man.

Sat at a table, set off to the corner with a view of Jack, his mark and the cage, was a broody looking motherfucker. Sporting a well-worn leather jacket, a mustache similar to his own and a casual air that oozed practiced confidence, the other man had definitely made him. Everything about this guy said agent, the only question was what kind.

Jack's money was on CIA considering the dealings his sleepy mark was into, but FBI was also a possibility. There was only one way to find out, and considering Jack didn't feel like competing with another agent for the mark, working together was the better option for them both. Eying the other man, Jack could see he was also nursing what passed for beer in this shithole. There was his opening.

Sliding off his barstool, Jack glanced over at the two young men now slumping against each other, gasping for breath, the sweat rolling off them. Swaggering over to the stranger's table, Jack was met with a single raised eyebrow and a tilt of the head.

"Evenin'." Jack tipped his hat, before leaning down slightly closer to the other man. "Enjoyin' the entertainment?"

"Not my usual kind of thing." The other man smirked and Jack could just pick out the hints of a Texan accent. "But when in Rome or whatever."

"I agree." Jack gave a chuckle. "Almost makes up for the terrible beer. Do you mind if I join you?" Jack gestured to the free chair next to the stranger.

The other man didn't respond beyond a small nod, but his eyes watched Jack intently as he slid into the seat. 

“I don’t know about you,” Jack leaned in conspiratorially, “but I usually prefer somethin’ a little stronger. Now, I’m a whiskey man myself. How about you?”

“I’m a cut the bullshit kinda man.” The stranger sat up a little straighter, locking eyes with Jack with a steadiness that could only come from years of experience in the field. “So, why don’t you do us both a favor and tell me who you are and what you want.”

“To the point, I respect that.” Jack nodded. “All right. I’m Agent Jack Daniels, and I’m here keepin’ an eye on that fella over there. Reckon you know who I mean, seein’ as you’ve also got eyes on him. I need him alive as part of an investigation, and I get the feelin’ you do too.”

“You CIA?”

“No.” Jack carefully pulled his fake DIA badge from his jacket, flashing it under the table at the stranger. “You?”

“DEA.” The stranger mimicked Jack, carefully and covertly showing his badge. “Javier Peña. Our guy has links to a new player in the narcotics trade.”

“Indeed he does.” Jack nodded again, glancing around to make sure no one was watching or listening to them. “Amongst other things. Peña, huh? Weren’t you part of the team that took down Escobar?”

Javier shifted in his seat. “That was a long time ago. So what do you want to do? I’m here tonight to see who he meets up with.”

“He ain’t meetin’ up with anyone tonight. He was meant to, but I’ve already made sure that ain’t happenin’.” Jack leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting over to the cage fighters who were rolling around on the floor trading punches. “The dumb fuck’ll stay here, so I was gonna wait until the mornin’ and tail him back to wherever he’s holed up. You’re welcome to join me.”

Jack watched as Javier’s sharp eyes assessed him thoroughly. Jack could feel those dark eyes taking in every detail of him and knew that on some level Javier wasn’t buying his story. But was it enough for him to leave?

“Fine.” Javier scowled, taking a swig of beer, pulling a face at the taste. “I guess we just wait then.”

“At least there’s a show.” Jack gestured to the cage, scooting his chair back slightly so he was parallel to Javier at the table. “Who’s your money on? The fuckin’ twink blond or the other one?”

“At least that one can grow facial hair.” Javier let out a harsh laugh as he watched the two fighters. 

The crowd was getting impatient now, roaring and booing for the two young men to hurry up and finish. The blond responded by lunging at the darker haired man, who stepped back to avoid the attack. Grabbing hold of each other by the jeans, the two men fell to the floor of the cage again, tussling back and forth, much to the pleasure of the crowd. 

A loud whoop came from one section of the gathered men and as Jack craned his neck to look he could see that the blond had managed to pull down the other man’s jeans, exposing his ass. As the fighters rolled, grabbed and tugged at each other, the jeans worked their way further down until the man’s cock and balls were free. By this point, he was pinned under the blond, who had straddled his back, causing the other man’s legs to kick wildly. The result was a fantastic view of his asshole bared for the crowd, with his heavy dick and balls swinging back and forth. 

Much of the crowd was cheering now, clearly enjoying what they were seeing, as the blond fighter rolled the other man onto his back, yanking his jeans completely off victoriously. Now stark naked, bruised and bloodied, the other fighter slowly climbed to his feet before quickly barrelling into the blond. 

Jack could feel his cock stirring as he watched the younger fighter’s naked body in front of him. He wasn’t alone, and Jack could spot more than a few tented pants in the audience. The blond was grabbing the other fighter’s ass and pulling his cheeks open, giving everyone a good view of a tight puckered hole, and Jack could feel his cheeks heating up as he stared. Pulling his eyes away to grab his hip flask from his belt, Jack’s eye flickered over to Javier. 

The other man was leaning back casually in his chair, giving the impression to anyone that he was completely disinterested in what he was watching. Taking a mouthful of whiskey, Jack let his eyes drift lower, his curiosity getting the better of him, and to Jack’s delight he could see the very obvious outline of an erection in those ridiculously tight jeans.

Holding his flask out to Javier, Jack couldn’t stop himself smirking as the other man jumped slightly, dropping the veneer of coolness for a moment, before taking the flask. Letting his eyes drop back down to the bulge in Javier’s jeans, Jack made sure to let the other man catch him looking as the flask was returned to him. 

“Good show, am I right?” Jack’s voice was a husky whisper as he leaned over to Javier. 

“Uh, sure.” Javier’s cheeks flushed slightly as he glanced around, looking everywhere in the bar except at the two young men glistening with sweat as the naked fighter ripped open the blond’s jeans as he swung him against the cage. His body clattering against the metal, his long cock squashed against the bars.

Jack waiting patiently until Javier’s eyes returned to him before gesturing discreetly at his hard on. “Wanna fuck?”

/////

Crashing around the back of the bar, lips clumsily found lips as teeth clashed and hands roamed. Slamming Jack up against the wall of the building, Javier’s mouth forcefully met his as the two men grunted and moaned in the cold night.

Venturing his hands lower, Jack cupped Javier’s erection through the denim, making the other man buck into his palm as he forced his tongue past Jack’s lips. It had been a long time since Jack had been with someone so aggressively dominant, and it was going straight to his cock, which strained against its confines.

Tugging open Javier’s fly, Jack reached inside, stroking the hard length, feeling it twitch in his hand as Javier’s finger’s tangled into Jack’s hair under his hat. Freeing his own cock, Jack pulled Javier in closer, bringing their erections together, as he began to steadily pump them with his hands. 

Javier moaned into Jack’s mouth an incomprehensible stream of English and Spanish as he trapped Jack against the wall, pinning him with his body as he rolled his hips in time with Jack’s strokes. But it wasn’t enough. Jack needed more. There was something about this grumpy DEA agent that was filling his head with the most obscene thoughts, and damn it if Jack wasn’t going to try and fulfil some of them.

Pulling his head back slightly to break the frantic kiss, Jack nuzzled against Javier’s jaw as the other man growled and ground against him.

“You wanna fuck me?” Jack panted into Javier’s ear, stopping his hand and pulling it away from their cocks. “I got lube and condoms.”

“Yes.” Was the simple, growled response as Javier took a step back, glancing around as Jack fished a condom out of his jacket.

As Javier busied himself putting it on, Jack quickly unbuckled his belt, pulling his jeans and underwear down to his knees. Reaching behind him, Jack pushed a finger into his ass, hissing at the coldness of the lube, before adding a second finger. Satisfied at the lubrication, Jack handed the tube to Javier, who applied a couple of drops before returning it.

Turning round, Jack steadied himself on the wall with his forearms, planting his feet as far apart as he could and bend over slightly to give Javier access to his ass. He could feel a hand on his bare hip and the tip of Javier’s cock lining up with his entrance before, slowly, Javier began to enter Jack. 

Jack let his head drop down as he bit back a moan as Javier’s thick length steady began to fill him. Inch by inch, Javier sank into Jack's hot waiting hole, both hands now gripping Jack's hips as his cock disappeared into Jack's body. Then, once he was buried to the hilt, Javier paused. Jack could hear him muttering and breathing heavily behind him as Jack adjusted to the size.

"You good?" Javier eventually whispered, one hand idly stroking Jack's exposed skin.

"I'm good." Jack hissed back, his arousal fogging his head. "Gimme all you got."

Jack heard a soft chuckled before Javier began to move. Pulling almost completely out slowly, before suddenly slamming back into Jack's waiting ass. Jack bit back a yelp as Javier began to set a rough, unrelenting pace. Each thrust pounding into Jack, rocking him forward until his cheek was barely touching the cold stone of the building. Javier's hips snapped against him as the obscene sound of flesh against flesh filled the night air. 

But it still wasn't enough. Jack was sure at this pace Javier wasn't going to last long, and given their extremely public locale that might be for the best. But Jack needed more. Arching his back, Jack tilted his hips slightly and sure enough the next time Javier plunged into him a jolt of electricity coursed through Jack. That's what he needed.

Javier seemed to quickly pick up on what Jack wanted, grabbing his hip with one hand and his hair with another to keep Jack in the right position. Then, like a jackhammer, Javier began to brutally fuck Jack. 

Jack's skin prickled with heat as the tension building in him threatened to explode. All he could do was get out shaking moans, and Javier huffed and panted behind him. The pace was becoming more erratic now, with each strike of Javier's hips against his ass, Jack could feel the other man's grip on his control slipping. The hands holding him dug their fingers in deep as Javier's tempo faltered. 

Between his legs, Jack's cock swung with every thrust, adding to the tantalizing anticipation as he got closer and closer to the edge. Then with a grunt and a hard snap of his hips forward, Jack felt Javier come. For a few seconds, he stilled, as Jack felt the cock inside him twitching through its release. Then, without warning, Javier began to pounding into Jack again.

The hand on his hip moved, reaching under to gently pump Jack's cock in time with Javier's thrusts. That was enough.

Like falling off a cliff, Jack came, spilling himself onto the dirt as his trembled in Javier's grip. Shockwaves of ecstasy rocked him as Javier continued to roll his hips, hitting that sweet spot, making Jack's knees buckle.

Jack would have been content to rest there against the wall of the bar, Javier's cock still buried in him, as he allowed the high of his orgasm to ebb away for a little longer. But just as his head began to clear of static, he felt Javier tense behind him, then quickly pull his softening length from Jack's now gaping hole.

"Fuck." Javier hissed. "Someone's coming."

"Dammit." Jack muttered, his words slurring together as he fought to pull his jeans up. 

Voices drifted through the cold night air and Jack watched warily as two men stumbled their way towards a truck, laughing heartily as a third more sober looking friend brought up the rear. Turning back to Javier, who was in the process of disposing of the condom, Jack smirked.

"We're good. You wanna head back inside, or are you up for a second round somewhere a little more private?"

"Fuck." Javier chuckled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and after offering them to Jack, brought one to his lips and lit it. "Tempting. Very tempting, actually. But we have work to do."

"Ah, that dumb fuck'll still be asleep for a few hours yet." Jack waved a hand, but following as Javier started to make his way back round to the front door of the bar. "How about we wait till this place clears out some, then have round two in the men's room?"

Blowing out a puff of smoke, Javier stopped at the door, looking around thoughtfully. There were only a handful of patrons still in the bar now. As predicted, their mark was still sound asleep where they had left him. The fight was over, with the two young men now redressed and counting their winnings at a table in the corner. Leaning against the doorway, Javier turned back to Jack with a smirk.

"You wanna fuck me this time?"

/////

If you enjoy this please give it a reblog to share with other.

[christinalvjyy]

haii!!! i have a request for a fic if you’re willing to write it!

so wilbur lives in an apartment and has a roommate, but there’s a lot of tension there because they don’t get along the greatest. wilbur really likes them, and they like him as well, but since they don’t get along, they don’t say anything until he accidentally admits it during an argument!!!! and then they do things 😛

also can i be 🎸 anon?

hii, this request was AMAZING!!

(ofc you can be 🎸 anon!)

"Did you just confess?"

Roommate!wilbur x gn!reader

Afab!reader

Cw: fighting (not really), sex

(THIS IS MY FIRST EVER FIC!!! I'm sorry if it's kinda sloppy)

Ever since you moved out from your parents, you didn't have that much money to buy a house. You decided to rent out an apartment with a roommate until you get out of college, and that roommate, of course, is Wilbur soot.

You never really liked him, and neither did he. You'd always fight over stupid things and cause huge ruckuses. It was stupid, honestly. These past 2 years have been hell. No one has ever seen you get along with him.

You couldn't ignore that he was a very handsome man. You loved the way his fluffy Brown curves fell over his face, his super sharp jawline, his amazing hands, and you can't forget that sexy accent. You always tried pushing those thoughts away, since you both "hated" eachother,right?

Today was just like any day. You and Wilbur were fighting in the kitchem on who gets to pay this months rent. Usually, you wouldn't fight about it, but now, you didn't have a single penny in your wallet.

"Wilbur, I can't pay for this months rent!! Don't be fucking stupid! I've been paying when I have to! Do me a solid favor and pay this months!" You yelled as he knew that you struggled economically.

"Do you think that I give two shits? It's obviously your turn! I can not be paying the fucking bills whenever you can't afford it! Get a job, y/n! It's not that difficult! I am not some slave that gets to pay the rent whenever you can't!" Wilbur looked furious. This wasn't even a huge fucking deal, yet he made it like it was.

"Wilbur, you know I'd pay it back! I get that you don't like me, but please do me this solid favor... for once..please?" You begged as you were about to tear up. You couldn't lose this apartment, yet him. Even though he annoyed you, you secretly liked his company,but you'd never admit that, of course.

"Pardon? Where'd you get that idea that I don't like you? I fucking love you-! I know I've been shouting nonstop, but I- I didn't know how to express my fee-" you cut him off as your lips smashed against his. Before he had time to react, your tongue slipped inside his mouth. He gripped on your hips tight,so tight that they might bruise. He kissed you passionately, hungrily, like he's been yearning this for so so long. After what felt like hours, you pulled away to breath, but Wilbur had other plans. He started kissing your neck hungrily, making bug purple marks. You moaned as he found your sweet spot. He continued licking and sucking the same spot, loving th sounds you made. "Mmh- wilbur-!" You choked out as you whined.

"Oh, baby, I haven't even started yet." Wilbur grinned as he lifted you up easily and went to his room.

All these years that youve lived with him, he never allowed you to step foot into his room. It looked cozy, but a few clothes scattered here and there.

Wilbur put you down on the bed as he started stripping. "Well,cmon. Strip." He commanded. You didn't even hesitate as you started removing the layers on your body. Wilbur was fully naked, but had his boxers on. It's like he was teasing you. He climbed on top of you as he started trailing wet kisses all around your naked form. You moaned from pleasure as you gripped on his fluffy Brown hair for stability. The man made you weak on your knees even if he just glared at you.

He stopped kissing your body, and looked at you dead in the eye while removing his boxers. He slowly climbed on top on you, lining himself up. "Fuck,baby, are you ready?" He said as you nodded eagerly. He slowly pushed himself inside of you as you let out a loud gruttal moan. Your eyes rolled back to your hear as you gripped on his shoulders. He really was huge. "Oh, bloody 'ell, that pussy was made just for me... so tight and so pretty..." he praised as be groaned. He put a hand on your stomach, feeling his bulge as he started moving. You couldn't take it anymore, he felt so amazing. Your only reaction was to moan or whine. He ruined you. Wilbur kept on thrusting in you, and by every second he moved even faster. "Oh,oh,sweetheart,oh, oh, you're sooo good.. youre being such a good girl, ain't that right?" He moaned as his other hand went up to your breast, playing with the nipple. You whined at the connection and couldn't speak. "I need words, darling! Speak t-to me!" The older man said as he moved even faster. "A-ah-! Wilbur! S-so good.. im close!" You said as your nails went to the sheets of the bed.

Wilburs movements became sloppy as he himself got close. "Okay, okay,mmh.. on the count of three.. we release together.. " You nodded as your head fell back from the absolute ecstacy you were feeling.

1...2...3.. and you both came. The room was filled with pants from the both of you. Wilbur collapsed on top of you and closed his eyes. "That- that was amazing..." Wilbur said as he nuzzled his face on your shoulder.

"Soooo.. you gonna pay for this months rent?" You said as he giggled and nodded.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

May I request a crossover of sorts? Arven and Nemona meeting a strange new student!Reader. The reader is quiet, always has their head down, and is never seen with any pokemon, despite having pokeballs on their belt. One day they're either provoked into a battle or just seen with their pokemon, which turn out to be the most horrifying pokemon pretty much anyone has ever seen. Their team consists of Freakachu, Missingno, Purin, and Disabled, which are loyal and friendly toward the Reader.

I LOVE this idea to the moon and back-

.............

"I'm telling you...[y/n] has some super cool Pokémon!! Maybe they're just shy about showing them off!"

"Or maybe they're not in the mood for battling, unlike you."

"Still, I really wanna see what their team looks like!"

"...so you can beat them up?" Arven just stared at Nemona with a deadpanned expression, unable to understand why she wanted to fight you so badly.

Recently the pair, alongside Penny, befriended you--a new student who transferred from Kanto and into the Naranja/Uva Academy.

But all three of them noticed some rather peculiar things about you..

For one, you're always so quiet--even moreso than Penny--and you had your head down during the lectures, never speaking unless called on. Some professors were led to believe you were dozing off. Yet you always got good marks on your tests, so it's clear you've been paying close attention.

Outside of school, you declined Nemona's invitations to battle whenever you saw her...which was pretty much every single day. And it wasn't just her. You didn't engage in Pokémon battles with anyone. Not even during battle studies class.

Some younger students have called you "chicken" when you refused to fight their Teddiursa or Chewtile, while older folks would say that you have "the potential" to be a great trainer...but you were never bothered by their remarks. You just carried on with your day.

But the strangest thing is that nobody in Paldea has seen your Pokémon team, despite your friends noticing the four pokeballs attached to your belt at all times. Not even during picnics did you bring them out to play or chat.

Arven didn't let it bother him too much, believing you shouldn't be pressured into revealing them if you weren't prepared to; although he was curious about what was holding you back. He wasn't an expert trainer, but he let his team out to get fresh air every once in a while.

Penny can understand you wanting to hide in your shell for a little while longer. You are a recent transfer student, after all. It took her ages to even admit that she has an Eeveelution team, so she sympathizes with you in that regard.

As for Nemona? She was gonna goad you into a battle even if it killed her. You just needed a little confidence boost!

When she tried calling you, Arven suddenly snatched her rotom phone, being extremely annoyed that she was trying to nose her way into your life without permission, and the pair began arguing.

Yet neither of them have realized they've stumbled upon the secluded spot where you did let your team roam free.

But when they noticed you approaching, Arven fell silent and ducked down behind some bushes, taking Nemona along with him despite her protests. "What are you doing?!" She whisper-yelled, seeing you setting up a picnic table. "It's [y/n]!"

"I-I know, just be quiet!" He whisper-yelled right back. "All we're gonna do is scare them."

"..why are you acting like they're some timid Starly?? That's our friend!"

"Yeah? Well maybe they won't be anymore if we jump out at them! Let's just...see what they're up to before we do anything. Maybe they're gonna bring out their Pokémon." He pointed as he saw you unclip the pokeballs from your belt.

Although irritated she couldn't greet you, Nemona kept quiet and stayed hidden with Arven, excited at that prospect. Both of them watched as you tossed the pokeballs high into the air, opening one by one to reveal....

Creatures that look like they crawled out of a horror movie or broken video game.

Neither of them could believe what they were seeing:

There was a white-furred Pikachu with bandages plastered all over its body, yet it still looked very much wounded as it was missing an arm and ear. One of its legs was stripped of any fur or muscle, exposing its bones. But that didn't seem to limit its mobility as it ran happily around the table.

Then their eyes gazed upon a Jigglypuff and Wigglytuff, both with greyed fur and red stains underneath their eyes. The Wigglytuff had a bandage wrapped around her mouth, along with a stitched ear, but she seemed content sitting in the grass, sharing berries with the Jigglypuff--who seemed to sport a thousand-yard stare.

The final Pokémon was something...quite incomprehensible. Arven and Nemona didn't know if they were hallucinating at first.

But it was just...a blob of glitches shaped like a backwards L. And it seemed to be spawning Pokémon eggs all around the picnic table. Though you somehow were able to talk to it, and they disappeared before it took the shape of an Aerodactyl's skeleton. It sat patiently as you used the Mareep sponge to scrub soap onto their skull, before washing it off with the handheld sprinkler.

After shaking the water off, it let out a distorted cry that rattled the nerves of the duo.

They tried taking a scan of that Pokémon to learn more about it, but their pokedexes showed a bugged entry. Though they were able to make out several things: its name was Missingno, its number was 000, and its type was apparently "Bird/Normal".

"Wha...bird?? Isn't that just the flying type?" Arven furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, staring at his phone. "That thing is no freaking bird, I can tell you that. What kind of name is "Missingno" anyway??"

"Dunno, but we can always ask [y/n]!" Nemona suggested with a hopeful smile.

"How do you suppose we show our faces without looking like stalkers-?"

"Pikaaaa..."

Tensing, they both looked down to suddenly see the zombified Pikachu staring up at them, tilting its head. Then it grinned from ear to ear, revealing rows of sharp teeth and red fleshy gums--a far cry from the cute little smiles they're used to seeing on normal Pikachus.

One of them would've freaked out for sure....had you not whistled.

"Hey Freakachu. Come back, please...sorry, guys." You muttered apologetically, looking up at your friends. "I promise he doesn't bite."

Although you were a tad bit irritated that you caught them spying on you, you knew you couldn't keep this a secret from them forever. This could revelation could either make or break your friendship with them...but you had to take that chance eventually.

Hearing your voice, Nemona jumped up and waved excitedly. "Hola, [y/n]!! We were just doing some field studies so it's fancy seeing you here!" She stepped out of the bushes as Arven stumbled after her. "How are your Pokémon? They..seem to be in rough shape."

"I know they don't look it, but...they're happy." You noticed the grey Jigglypuff waddling beside you, tugging on your pant leg. "Oh hey, Purin..need something?"

Shaking her head, she simply hugged your leg, and you smiled as you reached down to pet her ears. She genuinely felt safe with you, as her eyes closed and a smile formed on her own face.

"Oooooo, so that Jigglypuff's name is Purin? That's cute!" Nemona cooed, whereas Arven remained immensely concerned with their conditions.

"That's cool..I guess. But why are you calling him "Freakachu"?" He gestured to the white Pikachu. "That's not really a nice name, if you ask me.."

"It's the only one he responds to, so..he doesn't mind it at all." You shrugged.

"..you sure they're all okay, [y/n]? 'cause they look like-"

"Death?"

"Wha--n-no!! I wasn't gonna say that-!"

"It's okay. I get that a lot. The thing is..they weren't always like this." You explained calmly. "They were all hurt. Disabled and Purin were abandoned by their trainers and lost their Sing...and Freakachu was dying of frostbite on Mt. Silver. I tried healing their wounds the best I could..or at least the physical ones. But they trusted me to help them, and...they've become my best friends.."

"Awh, that's muy bueno!!" Nemona beamed, clapping her hands together. "Now I kinda feel bad I was begging you to battle me..." She chuckled awkwardly. "They probably don't wanna fight."

"They know some good moves, but I was worried about how you guys would rea-"

"AH!! I-Is that a real ghost?!!"

Blinking in confusion, you looked over your shoulder to see Missingno right there, having assumed its Ghost form. You just smiled and shook your head. "No, it's just Missingno being able to turn into several forms. I don't know much about this one's history, but...old Kantonian tales claim it's a collection of lost souls that can grant you infinite items if you pay your respects to it."

"..o-oh, so it's like..a Spiritomb-" Arven concluded, only to get a light elbow in the gut by Nemona, which made him grunt in pain.

"Y'know you're being quite rude, chico." She huffed. "Screaming at our friend's Pokémon is no muy bueno."

".....sorry."

"It's fine. I know looks can be deceiving but..these Pokémon follow my every command and are very loyal. They don't hurt people anymore, so there's no need to worry."

"Anymore? That's comforting.." Arven grumbled under his breath, only to tense as Nemona glared at him. "..b-but it's great that you've trained them!" His voice went up an octave. "Do they like sandwiches?? I brought some herba mystica! A pinch of it should help with their injuries no problem!!!"

Both of you watched in amusement as he rushed over to the table to help set up the condiments, before you sighed and followed him there. Nemona joined you, a skip in her step as she was eager to learn more about your Pokémon.

Purin, Disabled, Freakachu, and Missingno all gathered there as well, lying in wait.

This was sure to be an interesting picnic.

[pedge-stuff]

Fic request: Pedro or reader has an intense panic attack in a public. Reader has to talk him through it and calm him down enough so they can leave the event. Holding each other in bed.

clean up, aisle 4 (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: sometimes, you deal with the downsides.

——————————————————————————

"I feel like we tried this and didn't like it."

Pedro inspects the back label on the box— some kinda chickpea flour protein pasta 'alternative' that came less-than-highly recommended by his personal trainer— before re-shelving it alongside the other sad, fake noodles.

The grocery store has become a little bit of a minefield. Gladiator 2 prep was exciting, until the rigorous hours in the gym started requiring a specialized diet. He can't eat carbs, you don't eat meat, both of you love frozen pizza, and neither of you really want to participate in the whole classic disordered Hollywood eating thing. And yet, here you are.

Home-cooked meals have consisted mostly of roasted vegetables and dry, baked proteins. You're attempting to eat "clean" in solidarity with him, but...

"We don't need pasta," Pedro laments, turning away from the shelving altogether. "What's left?"

You pull the notes-app list back up. "Whatever kind of frozen fruit you want for smoothies, plus pitted dates. I'd love those wasabi almonds from last month, but I dunno if they have them again. We could get Skinny Pop, if you want it?"

A grimace. "That's fine."

"We don't have to get it, Pedge."

"It's fine, really. We need something for the movie tonight, right?"

His shoulders slump as he pushes the cart onwards. The back right wheel is making a little squeaking sound, sharp and grating on your last damn nerve. This grocery store feels more and more like a minefield with every aisle turn. The balance between supporting Pedro in his training, and wanting him to just say fuck it and be happy, feels entirely precarious.

"Almonds," Pedro mutters, veering right, around an obnoxiously large Goldfish display and the toddler sobbing loudly in front of it. An obstacle course of bright lights and loud sounds. "Almonds, almonds—"

"Ohmygod, Pedro Pascal."

Immediately, no. Two college-aged, tri delta-looking, fresh-from-the-salon type girls, grinning like they'd won the damn lottery. Fans— no one he actually knows says "Pay-drow."

The wheel squeaks again as they grind to a forceful halt; the girls are standing directly in the path of the cart.

"Should we ask for a picture?" They speak at full volume, to each other, as if he isn't standing right in front of them.

"We have to, for the gram. Oh my god."

"Maybe Deuxmoi will pick it up."

Pedro grimaces as they start rummaging for their phones. He's always generous with his time— sometimes a little too generous, so concerned with hurting peoples' feelings that he'll take selfies through the drive-thru window, or walking the dogs. Even one memorable time, pumping gas.

Only at night, lights off, tucked away, does he ever confess his frustrations. As though he should not want privacy; as though being grateful was more important than being safe. Guilt eats him in ways that you alone cannot heal. All you can do is hold him a little tighter.

A phone is thrust towards you. "Can you take a picture of us?"

Before either of you can react, one girl has her arm over Pedro's shoulder. The other, on his waist. He's never been one to shy away from affection— had been pushing the cart single-handedly, with the other on the small of your back, since the dairy section— but that intimacy does not extend to strangers.

They are laughing, chattering— something about Game of Thrones. You distinctly make out so sexy and slay.

But you hardly register them, instead frowning at your partner as you snap a couple pics without looking. He is frozen, eyes fixed somewhere past you, though he offers a wan smile for the camera. Answers a question you can't hear with a half-hearted laugh, before gesturing to the next aisle. A polite gesture, too far from the fuck off on the tip of your tongue.

Pedro attempts to move away, but the girl's arm is still snaked around his waist. Trapped. She reaches to wrap the other around, attempting to encircle him in a teddy bear-style hug. This, here, is the limit.

With a rough, jerky motion, he forces her off of him. "Sorry, sorry," he says quickly. "We need to go."

"But—"

If you push the cart, and it happens to roll over a perfectly manicured foot, well...

Pedro is a few paces ahead of you, stalking towards the almonds like they owe him a grave debt. His fists clench and unclench at his side.

Not good.

His tells for a panic attack are well-catalogued in your brain. You push the cart to one side, mouthing an apology to the man you almost plow down, before approaching Pedro with caution. His chest heaves as he frowns at the Blue Diamond display, breaths noticeably shallow.

"Pedro." Fighting muscle memory, you don't touch him. Don't want to startle him, though concern burns a hole in your own diaphragm.

"Mm."

"Baby, look at me."

His eyes squeeze shut, instead. "I'm good. I'm good."

"Why don't you go to the car, I'll finish up quick."

"I'm good," he insists, voice cracking.

"It's OK if you're not good."

A hitch in his breath, and Pedro's face crumbles. "Just startled me, is all," he whispers, brown eyes pooling remorsefully. "So stupid. Can't even make it through the fucking supermarket to get my fucking fruits and veggies."

You reach for his hand, lithe fingers prying his clench fist apart. Soothe the red-crescent divots in his palm with the pad of your thumb. Wait for him to continue, as if you're not both standing in the middle of the nuts-candy-and-coffee section.

"Everything is just a lot right now," Pedro says, dragging in a shaky but deeper inhale. His other hand swipes across his cheek.

Mentally, you catalogue how difficult it would be to return the items in your cart; how fast you could retrace your steps, and rush the man home.

You bring his palm to your lips, instead. "Go take a smoke," you suggest. "And then we can get the fuck outta here."

"Someone's gonna post it online again. Everyone's talking about how I reek of cigarettes."

"You have reeked of cigarettes as long as I've known you. They are late to this." Tugging playfully on the hand you still hold, you wait for him to crack the barest, thinest of smiles.

"You still love me, though."

"Enough to fight off anyone else who tries to dry-hump you in this Whole Foods."

Slowly, you both retreat to the abandoned cart. "Can we—" Pedro stops himself, unsure of how to ask.

"Whatever it is, babe, yes."

He pushes forward. "What if I was asking if we could get naked right now and run through the supermarket parking lot so people would think we were crazy and leave us alone forever?"

"Then I'd start untying my shoes. It'd be hard to pull my jeans over 'em."

The wasabi almonds are, finally, pulled from the shelf. You proceed to the freezers. "That's not what I was gonna ask," he admits, grabbing a bag of chunked mango.

"Bummer."

"Can we just get some normal fucking popcorn? If one night's worth of fake butter is what does me in, someone else can be the Gladiator, I give up."

For him? Anything.

[vipetriol]

Free time? Not really. You’d expect Ruggie to know as much by now. Plus, Jamil wouldn’t peg his roommate as someone with an abundance of free time either, so the abrupt invitation isn’t only unusual, but suspect. 

( Then again, it is curry of all things, and it’d be a lie to say his interest isn’t piqued. )

He turns to face Ruggie, searching for any tells that might betray malicious intent. A beat passes in silence, then two.

With a huff, Jamil folds his arms over his chest, a sneer tugging at his lips when he finally says:

“Your treat, then? Since you’re going out of your way to invite me, I’m not paying a single mark.”

“MAN, I’m huu~uungry!” It’s a typical complaint following the conclusion of afternoon classes. Ruggie yawns, arms stretching skywards. Outstretched fingers passively try to hit the bottom of their door frame but narrowly miss. Ruggie wiggles his fingers, nose wrinkling as he finally steps into their room. He takes one step inside before he suddenly turns, facing Jamil. 

“How about we go somewhere t’eat?!” It’s less of a suggestion and, surprisingly, more of a demand. Ruggie looks at Jamil with a wide, expectant gaze, “I know a place ‘n they serve some rea~al good curry! We don’t gotta go t’our evening trainin’ cause our groups won that last exam, so ya got free time, ri~ight?”  @vipetriol

[33max]

Thank you to everyone that participated, we managed to bring twenty two wonderful pieces of fic/art into the world!

Please show the authors/artists some love for all of their efforts, comments and kudos make everyone’s day ♥️

All you need is love and some cats by Astron03

“I think Teddy is finally getting used to the flat.”

One sentences was enough to completely break Daniel's world.

A story of misunderstandings and some olympic level jumping to conclusions.

Comfortable in chaos by winhighmaintenancemachines

Max and Lewis know the terms that they both deal in, the choices they make every day. Their whole world is walking on a spider’s thread.

Or, the NICU doctor/nurse au.

De Sebly (Part 2) by @miesgaga

Most people only meet one soulmate goose with a connection to them. Soulmates were sometimes romantic and sometimes platonic. Family bonds happen too, but those were rare.

Max met his goose, fell in love and felt like his life couldn't get better.

This is not that story.

Max meets his second goose, this is that story.

GBB Server Exchange by anangelwillfly

Headspins by @albertparks

“I do have feelings for someone else though.” Max’s comment breaks Daniel from his thoughts. “I broke up with her because of it.”

Daniel’s gobsmacked at first, before saying, “Who is she, Maxy?”

It’s a poor attempt at a joke, but now it’s his turn to be nosey, to put his beak in business that isn’t his. Max has never been single for long, he can’t imagine now would be any different.

Except Max says, “It’s a man. And it doesn’t matter.”

I don’t get much sleep most nights (I’m seeing you in every dream) by @enjoythebutterflies

In the real world, Max is well-versed in breaking more than just records.

The one where Max and Daniel dream.

in paper rings by @thewindowatkirkland

"Maxy I would fly to Vegas with you tomorrow and pay some guy dressed as Elvis to marry us. I don't care about any of this crap, I don’t care about anything other than you being happy and us being married. I thought you wanted all this, but if you don’t, then fuck it all."

And Max just has to kiss him, hard and fast and certain before he says "okay, let's fucking do it. Let's go, tomorrow. just me and you and a fake Elvis."

OR: after a ten year engagement and with an extravagant wedding all planned out, they decide to elope to vegas instead.

It was written in the stars, but you erased it by @formula-maxiel

Max was twelve when his father had his soul mark removed. He had no idea how much anguish it would cause him.

Let me guide you by @waddlingpenguin

Max learns something about himself.

Daniel is more than happy to indulge.

listen to the slow parts by winhighmaintenancemachines

Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.

lock it up by @33max

Max is in their bed frantically humping a pillow that he’s folded in half. He’s shoved his little dick into the crease of it and he’s rabbiting his hips, he’s not got the equipment to properly thrust – if he pulled his hips back too far his cock would slip out of the fold.

the meaning of a flower by @meecamille

silly cute fluffy stuff led me to flowershop and hopeless romantic boys.

of angels and demons by @shitferraristrategy

Daniel loves to corrupt his little angel~ <3

platinum trophy by togenkyo

Fame, fortune, fortitude: For the man who has everything, what's left?

postcards from the past by @thatsapodium

I’ll send you another postcard soon. Miss you, love Max

A selection of postcards from the time Max backpacks across Australia.

Punch it! by @stardust-speedway6

An animatic of Lando and Max.

Max admonishes a punching bag.

Static by @chaoticzoomies

Walking into the Red Bull garage that Friday something felt off but Max couldn't put his finger on it. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling but just slightly off kilter, like someone had shifted things a few centimetres to the left. As he rounded the corner to the operations desk it clicked.

stay in for the summer (it's quiet, i'm trying) by @33and3

Take me to the Water by @fricative-pharyngiale

Still, he yearned for more, for everything Daniel could give him and then the rest too, his greediness all-consuming until it was all he could feel. He wanted to be the muse of every song Daniel wrote, so that they would be immortalised together. He wanted to take his poet to the river and drown him in his waters, keeping him close forever. He wanted to let his body liquefy so Daniel could drink him entirely, not a single drop left behind. He wanted to drain him of his blood and replace it with water from his river so they’d be the same, always.

A series of vignettes about nymph Max and his poet

The Tale of Max Verstappen by @danielfuckingricciardo

During the summer break, Max and Daniel take a trip to the Lake District to spend some time together alone.

When Max suggests they visit the Beatrix Potter museum, Daniel is only happy to take him on a date and treat him to a gift.

until I hear it from you by @fourmula1

DeuxMoi (also stylized Deuxmoi or @/deuxmoi) is a pseudonymous Instagram account which publishes celebrity gossip.

with the right amount of sugar by flyingkageyama

Max only wanted to find solace in one of the coffee shops he knew was a few miles away from campus, he didn’t expect one of the employees with a crappy drawing of a honey badger on his name tag to come try and get him to talk about his problems.

[yanara126-writing]

The Many Meetings of Death and Death (2/5) - Ghost

Daud is a wreck. Corvo is a player avatar. Neither of them is happy about it.

Well maybe the Outsider is.

-

Read here or on Ao3 (2359 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

--

Daud is a wreck. He knows it, even without seeing the looks his Whalers give him. He knows he scares them but there is nothing he can do about it anymore. He's been cracked down the middle for a long time, and the sword he's rammed into the empress had equally rammed a wedge into that crack, ruining his careful paint job. Sitting here now at his same old desk waiting for Attano to come and get his revenge was the closest he's felt to peace in six months. Either way, whatever comes of it, today it will be over.

Thomas stands in front of him, masked and stiff, as he reports that Attano's cell has been found empty. There is no sign of the man anywhere, as if he has simply vanished into thin air. Daud is unsurprised, the man has been essentially a ghost since the empress's murder (though how much of it was really his choice in those six months?). Neither is Thomas it seems. Even without seeing his face Daud knows well what his second thinks of the plan. Knows that Thomas knows he doesn't expect to survive this. Knows that Thomas agrees and resents him for it. Attano may be a ghost, but history is full of stories of vengeful spirits, literal or otherwise. Is Daud himself not one of them?

Daud doesn't want to die. He thought about it once, but the appeal didn't hold for long. (Truly it felt strange to even think about it, as if he's already come to the conclusion but his head hadn't caught up yet.) He wants- he wants what he gave Billie. He wants to be set free from his guilt and his regrets, as much as anyone can be. But in contrast to Billie, there is no one left who could forgive him. He succeeded where Billie failed and with that cut himself off from any way out, any recourse, any possible path to redemption.

All but one.

He doesn't delude himself into thinking true redemption could lie at the end of the path, but maybe it can at least be some relief. He has paid back some of his harm to the girl by dealing with Delilah, but that was a non-repeatable coincidence. The only way he knows to pay back Attano even a tiny smidge is by letting the man get a piece of him. So no, Daud does not want to die, despite what Thomas thinks, but he is ready to face it. He will give Attano the fight he owes him. (That thought too itches strangely somewhere in his mind. As if Attano has already left his mark on him. But then, hasn't he? It was the Empress's blood that ran down his fingers, staining them forever, but it was those despairing grey eyes that made sure he can never see the colour again without drowning in his own despair. And Dunwall is very grey.)

"Understood. Deal with the sentries as you will." Under different circumstances he would be furious and every single lookout would be running the gauntlet a hundred times, but truthfully he doesn't see a point to it. Attano has proven over and over just how undetectable he is for anyone looking, punishment will not change that. And deep down he knows that he is selfish. He doesn't want his Wahlers' last memories of him to be of anger. He deserves it, and perhaps it would be better for them in the long run, being able to leave the thought of him behind with disdain rather than his own suffocating regret, but Daud is and always has been selfish. Let this be the single spark of something good in his legacy of blood.

For the same reason he is glad for Thomas' mask, hiding the young man's face. He doesn't need to see to know the way that resignation creases his brows and thins his lips, he's seen it often enough before, over the years and even more often in these days since Billie's departure, but he prefers not facing it again. It wouldn't change anything, Daud knows he is as stubborn as he is selfish, but it would hurt.

Thomas says nothing for as long as he can get away with, and Daud lets him. Eventually though the silence must end, as all things do.

"Yes sir." Nothing shines through Thomas' inflection or movement. To any observer he would seem entirely composed and neutral as he bows and turns. Daud doesn't need to touch the arcane bond to recognize it for the lie it is. For the first time in years Thomas is scared, and Daud can do nothing about it.

Thomas transverses out of the room with no more comment. For one morbid moment Daud wonders if he just wants to enjoy the last minutes of his powers, but the thought whips away as quickly as it came. Some Whalers would certainly do so, but not Thomas. Thomas simply wanted to leave.

With nothing left to do but await his inevitable reckoning, Daud sits down behind his desk, the rickety old chair creaking under his weight, and waits for a ghost.

The first thing Daud becomes aware of is that his head hurts. The second thing he becomes aware of is that the rest of his body isn't much better. Void blast it, he feels as if a whale was dropped on him with the way every muscle in his body aches. The third thing he becomes aware of is that he should be dead. Probably. His head is resting on something cracked and woody, presumably his desk since that is the last place he remembers being. His limbs aren't tied to anything, both legs and arms hanging limp and aching, and he cannot hear anyone else in the room. Slowly and carefully he drags himself up from where he is slumped over his desk, not able to suppress the pained groan forcing itself from his throat. The room seems to tilt before his eyes and he is forced to press his eyes shut for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to subside. Eventually he blinks and looks over the empty room.

No one is here. No ghost, no human, not even a rat. He checks with his void gaze, the world becoming tinted in the same old dull blue, looks through the surrounding walls and sees nothing before he is forced to return to his normal vision or empty his stomach from the nausea muddling his head. He feels- well he feels like shit, but that is still remarkably better than he expected to feel when he sat down here... However long ago. He squints through the hole in the wall he calls a window and tries to judge how much time has passed. He dimly remembers it being around noon, but now the sun is almost setting beyond the ruins of the Flooded District.

Another careful rolling of all his limbs reveals that everything is where it's supposed to be and as far as he can tell he isn't injured. Beyond the hammering in his head and the pervasive aching he is perfectly fine. Another, more careful glance around does however reveal that he has been robbed very thoroughly. His keys are gone, as is the pouch he uses for coin, as are his audiographs and bone charms. Had he left out the paperwork for prior contracts Attano probably would have nabbed that too. The only thing the man left behind is a sheet of paper that wasn’t on his desk before.

Hesitantly Daud reaches for the paper precariously balanced on the edge of his desk in front of him. (It's angled in a way that makes him suspect it might have been balanced on his head before and he hadn't noticed it falling.) The texture identifies it as one of the wanted posters he has hung on his wall, as reminders both of past contracts and future possibilities. This one in particular is of Lizzie Stride (a keepsake more as a joke than for any useful reason), but the important part is the back of the poster, scribbled full with tight curved writing in his own ink. The pen is still lying next to the open inkwell, dripping excess fluid into the wood of the desk. The hollow feeling of frustration is easier to focus on than the terrible confusion and trepidition. Bastard could have at least closed the inkwell, that shit isn't cheap these days.

But the writing doesn't vanish and neither does his headache, no ghost appears and everything stays quiet but for the gentle rushing of water that permeates the entirety of the Flooded District, so eventually Daud has to face the facts. Attano came through. The man had him at his mercy, despite his best attempt to stay vigilant, and let him live. Whatever revenge he enacted is barely worse than an unpleasent hangover. And he left a letter.

'To Daudshit Dipshit,' Already the first line makes Daud want to rip his eyes out, but through decades of vigorous training of staring down misbehaving brats he keeps his reaction to a twitch of an eye. The paper in his hands crinkles in his grip but doesn't rip.

'How come you get so many non-lethal weapons? I have to make do with just a maximum of ten sleep-darts and my own damn arms. I have shot too many people point blank in the chest with a dart because they surprised me, why the fuck do I not get stun mines? Chokedust? A bonecharm to make choking faster?' ...What? He- What?? (Something about his baffling confusion feels familiar, in that strange way that thinking of Attano always does these days. As if he's done it before. He's sure somehow the black-eyed bastard is responsible and so he decides to ignore it.)

'You should know that despite this, I still wasted a whole three sleep darts on you. I hope you wake up with the world's worst hangover. Don't bother looking for your keys or purse, I robbed you blind and we both know you deserve it.

Sincerely,

Corvo'

For a few moments Daud simply sits and stares. Is he still asleep? Did Attano knock him out hard enough to cause hallucinations? Is the black-eyed bastard torturing him? No, he knows well the Void feels different. As he sits in his chair he can feel the dampness in the wood under his hands, can hear the creaking of the floorboards and the occasional hiss of the river krusts at the edge of the building that they never got rid of to keep the fresh recruits on their toes. The Void always feels empty, no matter how many things it shows him. There is always the underlying hollowness gaping there whenever the black-eyed bastard decides to hold him a disappointed speech. This here, this place that he has spent years in now, raising a whole generation of Whalers, is real, with its reeking, screeching, terrible and familiar presence. So is the letter in his hands. Somehow. Before he can put down the paper, perhaps to scream, perhaps to calmly light a smoke, perhaps to throw himself out of a window and see if that sets the universe right again, he sees a narrowly scrawled post script at the bottom of the sheet.

Despite his better knowledge he doesn't hesitate to read it.

'Ps. Teach your Whalers some fucking workplace safety, I had to save one from drowning because they fell off a ledge when I knocked them out.'

He still sits at his desk, blankly staring at the page when Thomas comes bursting in through the door, sword in hand, mask askew and gasping for breath. He freezes in the doorway at seeing Daud just sitting at his desk. Barely a second passes until he's pushed stumbling into the room, nearly falling over his own feet as three, four, five Whalers try to force themselves through the doorway at the same time, all in similarly disheveled state with weapons drawn. Running footsteps are sounding in the middle distance and he's starting to feel the sharp tug at the bond of frantic transversals from Whalers further off.

Faced with the absolute absurdity of the moment, his baffling confusion at the letter, the strange feelings of déjà vû haunting him, the utter lack of closure Attano granted him, Daud starts to laugh. He laughs loud and long, his head thrown back, until there are tears in his eyes and his laughs turn silent from lack of air. He's not quite sure what he's laughing about really, it's not like anything is really funny. Attano is clearly insane, either has always been or has lost his mind to the torture of Coldrige, Daud has been denied the one thing he has lived for the last few months, and his Whalers are behaving like the untrained street-rats he's trained out of them. Really he should be livid, and perhaps he is, but in that moment all he can do is sit at his desk and laugh until the tears stream down his face and his shoulders shake as if he's sobbing. Damn both Attano and the black-eyed bastard. Whatever comes now comes after.

(The group of Whalers watching in a strange mixture of horror and relief grows for about two minutes, until Thomas regains his own senses and starts shooing them out again. Rinaldo and Rulfio take up post outside of the door, unbidden but appreciated, and keep out the younger members who don't quite understand what is happening. Fisher and Montgomery only throw one glance through the window before setting up in the kitchen and trying to throw a meal together from what has survived their recent prisoner's escape. Daud's adrenaline crash after the months-long tension will not be pretty and it does not come in the way they've been expecting, but at the end of the day every Whaler gives the Outsider their thanks for it.)

(Daud eventually finds their shrine. He categorically refuses to give the black-eyed bastard the satisfaction of taking the rune.)

[sakumasmut]

hi! can i request Yuzuru and 1/7/8 from the dom list? preferably with an AFAB reader!

Yuzuru Fushimi Breeding Kink Asks

(afab reader)

1, 7 and 8 combined

1. Trying to impregnate their s/o

7. In rut, with an insatiable urge to breed

8. Watching their cum seep out of their s/o’s hole and getting hard again

Poor Yuzuru. The moment his rut started up he locked himself in his room, all alone with only his hand and pillows to hump against. He’s ashamed to be this needy, even though it’s only natural. Not only is he neglecting his duties, unable to fulfill them in this state, but his mind is full of impure thoughts of knocking you up, as unreasonable of an idea as it might be. The first painful day of his rut passes with his mind only on you, and when he dreams of you underneath him, spreading your legs so obediently and whining for his litter, he wakes up with a hard on and marks on his bedframe.

Of course, that means he can barely restrain himself when you insist on paying him a visit. It takes everything in his power to not throw open the door while he calmly recites every single reason why he shouldn’t let you help him out. He would be throwing away his life duty and both your careers if you ended up pregnant! Yet you’re stubborn, and he’s only a man. When Yuzuru finally lets you in after much insistence, you’re immediately thrown onto the bed.

Neither of you can count the hours that pass during the feverish mating that ensues, all you know is each other. Constantly, his cock buries itself inside you, over and over until his cum seeps into your womb and overflows out of your hole. And it only takes one look at all of his seed that’s going to waste for him to grip your hips and slam them back against his own, using his spend as lube to reach even deeper inside you with each thrust. He’ll be full of worries for the future once his rut has passed, but for now, he’ll gladly give you as many of his kids as you want.

[fullscoreshenanigans]

Is CloverWorks entirely at fault for TPN S2's mangled production?

I see so many people default to blaming CloverWorks for being the sole arbiter of S2's horribly disappointing production (sometimes Shirai is added into the mix too, especially by anime-onlys), but every time I do I'm genuinely asking the question of whether that's true and where they're pulling their information from.

I'm not involved in the animation industry at all so I'm interested in receiving input from people who are more familiar with it, but my understanding is the people in charge of the decision to truncate S2 would be The Promised Neverland Committee listed at the end of the opening credits.

(I could not find a single video of the English dub that aired on [adult swim] for the English credits of S1, so a screencap from the Japanese credits)

TPN Committee is comprised of the following entities: Aniplex (Distributor), Fuji TV (TV Station), Shueisha (Manga Publisher), Cygames Anime Fund, Dentsu (ads)

(Sources 1 | 2 | 3)

kViN from Sakugabooru details what a production company is in this post:

"I personally find it enjoyable to see who is involved in a show, and as you’ve seen there is plenty of information to draw from that. Animation production studios are listed in the credits for each show, so it’s understandable why audiences would imagine they have a ton of influence over a production. It’s even natural to think that the company that is actually manufacturing something would have great input! If you start paying attention to these committees though, you get a clearer picture of the finances of production and how each show is actually made rather than assume that studios that often don’t have much of a say are in charge of everything."

And CloverWorks is the more prominent name, especially for English speakers watching the subbed version of the series.

This is also something that Geoff Thew brings up in the last seven minutes of this video around the 18:50 mark:

"I'd bet good money that the last credits were supposed to roll right after that big stone door slammed shut, and I'd further wager that a combination of fan reactions to and dipping ratings for early episodes is what caused the production committee—who are the ones who actually have final say in this, not Cloverworks or even Shirai—to cut their losses and turn that cliffhanger into a skeleton of a conclusion."

I disagree with him on them making the call to retool the series during the clipshow episode between S2e05 and S2e06 though. It doesn’t seem like they had enough time to do that when a single episode of animation takes on average nine months to complete, even with the ridiculous crunch they seemed to be in. My guess is it was made back in early 2020 after Shirai made everyone involved in production aware the manga was ending that year, with the pandemic potentially factoring in to a degree.

He also mentions this a bit earlier:

"It's just such a slap in face to anyone who ever gave a shit about any version of this story. Including the people telling it, apparently, since neither of the anime's screenwriters nor mangaka/series composer Shirai wanted to take credit for the last two episodes. They probably didn't have much say in how it all went down. That's important to keep in mind before you start yelling at animators or even studios on twitter. I guarantee that every adaption that hurts you personally was ten times harder on the people who actually had to make it. As hackishily slapdash as this finale is, a lot of people probably slept under their desks to get it out the door, if they slept at all."

I always come back to this tiny addition toward the end of S2 episode 2 as an indication that on the creative side of things, in storyboarding and animation at CloverWorks, the care was still there at some level.

It was just squashed down in order to cut and condense 146 chapters into 11 episodes for a production that, as ZersEditor puts here, was "bleeding money."

But CloverWorks is less to type out, so they get the majority of the ire over a tragically butchered production in casual conversation.