#((OOOOH!! THEY DONE FUCKED UP NOW!!))

[canidbutch]

it happened so early in the morning and i am STILL frothing with rage over this text my boss sent me

[sentientsky]

In the place where the foundations shiver with the weight of every ghost you’ve laid to rest beneath the floorboards / In the liminal, staticky place where you were first made monstrous (made hollow and whimpering and fickle) / In the place that tore you lengthwise and emptied you onto the front porch, you learn to swallow back the rage, hold it captive and writhing in your gut. 

You learn your way around a set of teeth.

You learn the hackles-raised, jagged-mouthedness of a home without a scrap of heat. You learn how to pull each of your canines out by the bloodied pulp, all nerve endings and the blunted edges of grief.

You learn it because what other choice do you have? What’s the alternative, when all you’ve ever known is the dull scrape of your back against the wall, of your heart tearing clear through your chest?

And god, god, god (you pray to an empty sky). God, you’re so bitter and your bones are all galvanized under your skin, and it hurts. It fucking hurts. 

And yet you’d sooner turn your own snapping jaws on yourself than risk learning what happens to animals that misbehave.

So you make yourself small, you make yourself antiseptic and supplicating and placid. You domesticate every thrashing need to escape. You walk into a family dinner with darting yellow eyes: Cerberus with three heads, each maw zip-tied shut by your own hand. You show them the soft flesh of your underbelly—you show the whites of your eyes.

You bite back the terror, you choke on the wrath. Because what else is there to do? (inspired by this post from @actual-changeling. thanks for the gut-wrench, alex </3)

[musicalsiphonophore]

why the FUCK did they put both the unenjoyable set texts in paper one

[queenofbaws]

Fuck it, have another lyric prompt cause why not fhdjskshd

'You're runnin' scared, I hold your life in my hands

I bet you know now what you should've known then

I feel the silence creepin' back in

Knowin' my justice has found all your sins'

It was the smile. Not the blood, not the killing, not the way the room was filling up with the stink of death, not even the fire lodged just under his lung, reminding him of the bullet she'd put in him with every breath he took - it was that goddamn smile.

Like she'd won.

Like it was all gonna be okay now.

He watched it all from some faraway place, not quite in his body but not exactly out of it either; she looked at her hands, felt her face, turned to the friend she'd brought (the one with Bobby's gun, the one with Chris's blood all up and down his shirt), and she smiled, smiled, smiled, turning to him even, letting out a surprised little laugh, smiling all the while, smiling, acting like he should've been happy for her too, knowing full well she was the reason Kaylee was gathering flies downstairs and Dad was little more than a crumpled pile of bones a few rooms over.

Travis flexed his hand, remembered the shard of mirror that'd broken off when she'd thrown him into it, the old one, the antique, full of silver and sharper than Ma's tongue had ever been, and shit, he gave the Kearney bitch exactly what she wanted: He smiled back.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[jyoongim]

THE WAY U WRITE THE OLD RED DEMON MAN IS JUST SO NEKEKDKEOWB

Might I just add onto the seemingly continuous alastor requests. I'd love to see Alastor x Reader where reader is in heat and Al finds it pathetic but takes pity on them and helps anyway bc like poor thing can't even get their own instincts in control they're obviously hopeless

warnings: 18+!!!NSFW

You thought when you died you would be rid of hormones.

Periods were a pain while living, but this is was worst.

When you were alive, your periods plagued you with mood swings, random cravings, and pain.

Now that you were dead, you didn’t experience the dreadful red flood and raging mood swings; no. Now all you felt was unbelievably horny and needy.

And you hated it.

You usually carried yourself with confidence and elegance.

You usually liked to help around the hotel and were generally friendly with everyone.

You grimaced as you woke up to feel just how drenched your panties were. I really need to stock up on new underwear you thought as you tossed the ruined panties into the hamper.

You usually spent your heats alone and could hide in a hole until you felt normal again. You usually could control yourself well enough til you had enough free time to ease the tension between your legs.

Or until you found a poor sinner.

Weeeeellll that was hard when you lived in a hotel with a ton of shit to do. You really didn’t want to hear Angel’s jabs as you dragged some unfortunate soul to endear your sex rage.

You sighed, hopefully you could get through the next few days without embarrassing yourself completely.

So far so good you thought as you went about your day doing whatever activity Charlie had you do with the group.

Every touch and scent didn’t send your cunt into a tingling frenzy; yes you had to change your panties a few times but nothing crazy.

That was until you were around Alastor.

Your body practically buzzed whenever the tall red demon was in your vicinity.

You first chalked it up to that it was because you did found him attractive and simply thought it would go away.

But your cunt begged a differ.

You squirmed a bit on the couch as Alastor took a seat beside you, clenching your thighs to ease the uncomfortable throbbing.

It didn’t help that he smelled amazing.

Alastor smelled like evergreens how y’all ever smelled Christmas pine??? That shit is delicious!!!!

And you didn’t realized you had took a deep inhale of him until he turned to you

”Is everything alright my dear?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

fuck how were you going to tell him you wanted to bury your nose into his neck and just SNIFF? 

“O-oh I’m f-fine…i-its just you smelled nice?” You wanted to facepalm.

He blinked at you before letting out a laugh “OOooh why thank you my dear” that shit eating grin widened, voice dropping a slight octave“I must smell very enticing if you’re sniffing at me” his eyes narrowed slightly.

A shiver ran through your body and you swear you were leaking through onto the couch. You wanted to die of embarrassment.

“I-I just never noticed before that’s all” You said shrugging, trying to ignore the fact that his very voice was affecting you.

Charlie had ended whatever the hell you were doing and you quickly made your way to your room, causing some confusion.

You were usually a social butterfly with the gang. You never not chat away with Angel as he told the wild shit he did on set.

“Has got to be that time of the month” Angel commented as you almost sprinted out the room. Charlie and Vaggie gave confused looks ”what?” He sighed “You know…” nope not a clue.

”She was a human remember? Every so often her pussy basically shreds itself to bits”

Charlie gasped “So she’s hurt? Shouldn’t we do something?” Angel laughed,shaking his head “Nah we can’t help. But she'll be fine. Just give her a few days and she'll be normal again”

Alastor was in the background listening, the smile on his face sharpened, you weren’t hurt or bleeding, but there was definitely something that could be done.

You snarled as your vibrator died and tossed it. You groaned as your clit continued to throb. You had thought four orgasms would have did the trick but nope you still had the irritating itch.

You didn’t own a dildo because it was pointless.

it wasn’t the real thing.

You wanted to cry. This was your first heat while you’ve been at the hotel and you didn’t just want to drag a stranger here.

You had more control than that.

At least that’s what you thought.

You had locked yourself in your room as you tore your room to bits. The walls were shredded, pillows and sheets drenched in slick and your poor toy was in pieces.

Panting, you curled in a corner and tugged at your hair, squeezing your eyes tight as tears began to pool in your eyes.

You hated this.

 You hated how it felt like you didn’t even feel like yourself. 

Hated that you couldn’t even control your own damn bodily function.

Hated how your body desperately wanted to be filled.

You would give anything to make this horrid feat of yours go away.

“I would have never thought to see you in such a state my dear”

You froze at the voice and jerked your head to the source.

Alastor.

He was standing at the entrance of your bedroom, a smirk on his face as he took in the state of your room.

”I must say, it. Is rather entertaining to see your lack of control” he said as he approached your curled form.

He crouched down, feigning a concerned look before a clawed hand seized your hair and wrenched your face til your noses were bumping against each other.

”did you think I couldn’t smell you?” He growled “You smell just like a bitch in heat”

You whimpered as his lips ghosted over yours “I-I’m sorry”

His scent was surrounding you. It was a drug. Assaulting your every nerve with each breath you took.

He smelled so good 

please

”Please” you whispered as your cunt buzzed, tingling from his clos proximity and in hopes he would have mercy on you.

Alastor sucked his teeth at you. What a pitiful thing you were…

With a deep breathe, he stood and walked over to your ruined bed and sat. You watched as he sat his mic down and removed his coat. Yanking at his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt and looked over at you with narrowed eyes “Well? Do you want to continue to ruin your furnishings or do you wish to satisfy that brazen desire of yours?”

He widened his legs and your eyes honed in on how he unbuckled his pants.

Your throat tightened and you found yourself crawling over to him, no regard that you were naked.

Kneeling between his legs, your hands soothed up his thighs as your rubbed your head against his crotch.

Alastor lifted your chin for your eyes to meet his. Your eyes were blown out and you winced as his grip tightened.

”I pity you my dear, reduced to wanton whore, but don’t fret…Ill help you through your heat” a thumb ran over your pouty lip.

Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words.

You damn near drooled as he adjusted himself to pull his cock free from its restraints.

It was big, in both length and girth. It slapped against your face, causing you to hum at the weight of it.

You nuzzled it, nose gliding along his length before softly pressing kissed along it. When you came to his mushroom tip, you didn’t hesitate to suck at it. Alastor sighed as you gave the head of his cock kitten licks.

Head clouded with desire, you slowly bobbed your head along his length, taking him whole as you gagged once you reached the hilt.

You eased him out your throat and with a sickening pop, you admired as his spit-covered cock shined. You opted to jerk him off slowly as you buried your nose in his ball, inhaling his scent.

Alastor’s hand found your hair and guided you away from his cock, bringing you to climb up his body, until your smoldering heat was rubbing against his cock as he pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. A gasp tore from your throat as he nipped at your jaw.

”On fours my dear”

Clumsily, you scrambled to follow his instruction. You must not have been to his liking because he pressed your head til your cheek was flat to the bed, back in a deep low arch, thighs pressed to your stomach and spreaded wide with your ass and cunt exposed to the air. 

You would have blushed in embarrassment if you weren’t so turned on.

A hand glided down your back, causing you to shiver and then jolt as a harsh slap was planted on your ass, before it soothed over the burning cheek.

Alastor kneaded your ass before sliding his fingers down to your cunt.

Your slit was swollen and your clit, puffy with need. 

You were dripping.

He dipped a finger inside you, testing how wet you were.

Soppy. 

He added a second, your cunt greedily welcomed his fingers with ease, giving into resistance.

He chuckled “What a greedy cunt, sucking in my fingers like a cock”

You whined when he took his fingers out, already missing the feel of something inside you.

Alastor took his cock and rubbed it against your cunt, coating himself in your slick.

”I am going to fuck you to your little sinful heart desires and you are going to be grateful of everything I give you. You are going to take every bit of my cum until it spills from this cunt and then again and again until I have bred you so thoroughly. Do you understand slut?”

You were breathing heavily, trembling in excitement.

With a single, sharp thrust he filled your cunt, earning a soft cry from you.

”Do you understand?”he hissed through clenched teeth.

”Y-Yes A-Alastor”. you whimpered, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.

”Good girl”

He drew back and thrusted into you again

And again

And again

He had set a slow, but rough pace. Thrusting his cock deep into the soft warmth of your cunt with each drag.

Soft moans filled the air as he buried his cock inside you.

It felt so good. 

He reached depths your finger couldn’t quite reach.

And it was amazing.

”A-Ala-stor Aah! Aaah! Hah!” You pushed your hips against his, mewling loudly as he grinned his cock into you.

”Youre pathetic ” He laughed, eyes watching his cock disappeared inside you, giving you a hard thrust at his words.

”Nothing but pathetic slut who can’t control their own body”

His grip on your hips pulled you flushed against him, making you take him til his balls was nestled against your slit.

”You probably would have spreaded your legs for any poor sinner, just wanting to be fucked dumb” Your body rippled as his thrusts got harder.

Your cunt only got wetter.

He noticed as he seemed to sink even deeper into you, as if your cunt loosened to welcome him

”oh? I bet you would have liked that wouldn’t you? So out of sorts with need that you would have just anyone bred this cunt”

He growled at the squelching noises from your cunt, you shook your head in denial.

No. No you wouldn’t haven’t done something like that.

”N-no I-I wouldn’t-” You cried out as his finger ghosted over your swollen clit.

”You would have been happy to bend over and offer your cunt to anyone, as long as you had a cock fill you” Alastor continued before a cruel, deep laugh erupted from him

”But instead you sought me out. I had no intention in satisfying you, but what a gentleman would i had been if I ignored a lady in need?” You felt him lean over, hips never missing a beat as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

”Oooh how fortunate you are my dear”

You were suddenly flipped onto your back. Hair sprawled around you like a halo, your chest heaving as he pushed your knees to your chin. 

Your lidded eyes watching as he slide his cock between your pussy lips, bumping your clit. He grabbed your wrists, using them as leverage as he thrusted back into you, the new angle making your throw your head back with a broken cry

”FuuuuuUccckk Ah Ah AH!” His hips dug into the underside of your ass as he pounded your cunt.

Alastor hadn’t lost composure the entire time he fucked you.

He watched as you fell apart, your hips wiggling to accommodate to his harsh administrations.

Your cunt took him so good. A white, creamy ring formed at his base as he scraped against that sponges nerve inside you.

You welcomed him gratefully. Letting him wrench pleasurable sounds from your pretty lips.

Pushing your raised legs apart, he lowered his weight on you as he slammed his lips on yours, swallowing your moans. Your tongues danced as he rocked into your body.

The sounds of him ruining your cunt pushed him to fulfill your primal desire.

You felt that familiar blaze of heat take over your body as Alastor fucked short rapid thrusts into you.

Every brush of his abdomen against your clit had your cunt going haywire.

You were going to cum.

Alastor was going to make you cum.

You moaned at the thought

You were gonna cum on his cock

And he was gonna breed you

Breed your soppy cunt

and you were going to let him

”please….” You whined into his mouth

Fuck the very thought had your body buzzing.

”please what?” he purred

Your head was reeling, foggy with the need to be filled.

A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing

“What are you begging me for slut? Hmm?” His strokes were hitting harder and deeper.

”You want me to breed your cunt? You want to me to fill you up so good that all you’ll ever think is how my cum belongs inside you? What do the little slut want?”

Yes you wanted all of it.

You wanted him to fuck you so good, you wouldn’t even think of wanting another cock from his.

You wanted him to fill your cunt to the brim and then fuck it back inside.

You wanted him to breed you like the little slut you were.

To breed you til he had his fill.

Your instincts had practically took over, fuck sanity.

”Mhmm! I want it. I want you to Ah! I want you to fill me with your cum! Please please breed me Alastor” You whined, feeling your belly clench as your orgasm hung over you, promising sweet relief.

The hand around your throat, tightened causing you to gasp as he spoke into your ear, voice deep and purring

”Youre gonna make yourself cum on my cock slut”

your hand flew to your clit to flick fast circles on the bud.

Alastor’s thrusts quickened, growls pouring from his lips

”Who’s a filthy little slut?”

”M-Me”

”Whos a pathetic slut that’s gonna take my cum?”

”Me!”

”Fucking slut gonna let be breed her dumb”

A sob tore from you as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you as you milked him, hips angled to thrusts so deep you’re sure your cunt had molded into the shape of his cock

”hah hah aaah fuuucckk fuck fuck Al-Alastor!”

You saw white as your mouth opened in a silent scream only for him to swallow the whine in your throat.

”That’s it you pathetic slut take it. Take my cum. That’s a good girl. Let me breed this sweet cunt cher” your hips raised as he sunk into you and with a deep groan, he cummed into your spasming cunt, making sure to thrust deep enough he hit your cervix as he painted your walls white.

Whether conscious or by instinct, you gave him a ditzy smile, eyes glazed over as you slowly rubbed your clit, whimpering. Holding eye contact with him, a soft pout graced your lips

“Again”

You truly were a pathetic, needy little thing.

But don’t worry pretty Doe, Alastor’s going to make sure you

satisfied and stuffed to your heart’s content

 It was going to be very interesting for the next 36 hours…

@markster666 @alastorsfawn @senseichaos @alastoralltruist @dasimp777 @imgonnadielaughing-blog @thewinchestah @strawberrypimp666 @tpks @stygianoir @polytheatrix @prosciuttosblog @angelltheninth @peachedtv @yourdoorisunlocked @kiralaufeyson84

[soft-beams]

could i have a fic where reader tries to avoid telepathic!vi in an attempt to hide their feelings for her pls?

telepathic!vi x reader

you don't want vi to read your mind–it could fuck things up.

You've been avoiding Vi for days now, slipping away before she can see you and running off before she even gets a chance to say hello.

It's sad; it's heartbreaking, really, because every time you leave, you manage to catch a glimpse of Vi's confusion. Which is much better than the following sadness you don't get to see but you, unfortunately, hear about.

"You can't keep on avoiding her," Ekko tells you one evening, both of you hidden away with beers and some wraps. "Every time you leave, she turns into an upset puppy dog and when I tell you it's the most heart-wenching thing I've ever seen—"

"Shut up," you groan around a mouthful of chicken wrap before you swallow it down. "It's not like I don't know, alright? I'm highly aware of how sad my avoidance is making Vi." You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "It's just...her telepathy doesn't make it easy to be around her."

Ekko raises a brow. "Her telepathy?" He says, surprised. "That's kind of odd, I just thought you never had anything to hide from her. You two are as thick as thieves, Vi being able to read your mind would sound like a dream come true."

You take a swig of beer, relishing in the slight bitter taste, before saying, "It would be a dream come true if..."

"If...?" Ekko pushes after you go silent for a long moment.

"If... I didn't have a giant crush on her." You reveal, cheeks warm as you avoid eye contact with Ekko.

Ekko, who stares at you before going, "Ooooh. Yeah, that's a problem."

"No shit," you say with a roll of your eyes. "It's so annoying because It'd be fine if my mind knew how to shut up when Vi's around, but it doesn't! Every time she's around, my brain goes dumb and all it thinks about is how hot Vi is and how I wanna hold her hand and kiss her stupid face—"

"Whoa!" Ekko interrupts, raising his hands with a laugh. "Too much information. I see where those words were going, and I don't like it."

"I know, I'm sorry," you say, laughing weakly. "It's just...I like her so much, Ekko. And I don't want to freak her out with my dumb brain. So I'm just going to avoid her until I can get a better hold of my thoughts."

Ekko nods. "Sounds like a good idea in theory but what about Vi?" He asks, smiling sadly. "She's miserable without you, y'know? And she's worried that she's done something wrong. Thinks that her powers have freaked you out."

You groan, hiding your face in your hands as your heart shatters at that.

"It's not her, it's never her," you say firmly. "It's me—"

"Ekko?"

That's Vi's voice.

"Ekko, are you here?"

Shit.

"I gotta go!" You whisper, knocking over your beer as you hurry to stand up. "Don't tell her I was here!"

"Like she couldn't just read my mind but sure," Ekko says, deadpan, and you roll your eyes before waving goodbye, making your escape.

"Were they just here?" You hear Vi asks Ekko the moment you descend onto a rooftop, and break into a run.

Inwardly, you curse.

Why does this all have to be so complicated?

[6okuto]

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS

gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna

KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about “how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.

HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.

SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”

SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[demonic0angel]

Ooooh, Athena as Jazz's guardian goddess was kinda cool. I was like to see a prompt like that.

Red Hood clicked his guns and cursed. He had run out of bullets and the gang members were now about to find him and his henchmen in a few minutes. He glanced to the side, where the rest of his henchmen also shook their heads, waving their empty guns. He turned to Wolf next, who looked largely unconcerned despite her having empty guns as well. In fact, she was holding her hands together in some sort of prayer.

He had never taken her as the religious type, but whatever.

“Alright,” Red Hood hissed. “I’ll stay as a distraction, but you all will scatter and then come back to the base, okay? Stay there. If you don’t see me in the next few hours, wait until the next morning. Wolf is in charge.”

“No need.”

They all turned to Wolf, who finally straightened from her devout posture. “I can handle this, Hood.”

“… there’s twenty-five gang members with guns and only eight of us. You should run. I have armor and I know my way around here so—”

There was a soft cooing noise.

They all glanced up, where an owl had flown in and was now resting on a utility pole. It cooed, and Red Hood tensed, but quickly ignored it as the other gang members finally rushed in.

“There they are!”

Fuck! They were too late to run away!

Red Hood moved to block Wolf from the oncoming bullets, but before anything could happen, a gold spear flew over him and then struck straight through the head of a opposing gang member.

Silence reigned as everyone stared in shock. Before Red Hood could react, Wolf ran past him and took a running leap, jumping into the fray as she pulled the spear out of the corpse and then swung. She was holding a large, shimmering shield with a Medusa head on it to block the bullets as the opposing gang members screamed, and she moved expertly, swinging the spear like she was straight out of Rome.

Like a hurricane, she completely bulldozed the opposition.

Red Hood and his henchmen all stood there in silence, completely and utterly stunned.

When she was done, she stood in the middle of the bloodbath with her shield and spear in hand like some warrior goddess out of the legends. In fact, she was so beautiful that Red Hood almost wanted to drop to his knees and worship.

“… are you a goddess?” Red Hood blurted out.

Wolf paused in flicking away the blood from her spear and then burst into laughter. She was still giggling as she came over and the owl that they had all forgotten about flew down to sit on her shoulders. It fluffed its feathers and watched them all with sharp, golden eyes.

“No,” Wolf said, her voice sounding amused. “But I follow an excellent goddess.”

The owl hooted proudly.

Red Hood’s eyes widened as he then asked, “Holy shit, can I join?”

[tearsofcalamity]

Boothil has me on a chokeholdI want to fuck him so bad.Maybe install a few softwares, up his sensitivity, play with his mind.. Or maybe a lewd virus.. Make him so horny and needy, his head can literally think of you fucking him so good..Or him accidentally plugging the wrong USB, thinking it's his usual data after rebooting, but it's your USB and it messed with him.. I want to fuck his pretty hole so bad

hi anon this is tasty oml

imagine his sensitivity's been all off, some kinda glitch maybe from an incident during one of his missions. one moment it's been too low, and the next (just like now) it's way, way too high. for every other touch it's just annoying, but every time you've brushed past him today, he's failed to mention his issue with just how aroused he feels himself getting. it's different when it's your touch.

when he finally bucks up and admits that he's been having issues, you're so caring, so much more considerate of his senses (he wishes you wouldn't be - he really just wants you to fuck him dumb every time you so much as graze him) as you set out a few USBs and ask him to wait while you go grab some other tools to fix up his sensors. he asks what they're for, and when you tell him they're various types of sensations compiled into USBs to better test each type of touch, he figures he might as well just get a jumpstart with the testing so he doesn't waste your precious time.

he opts for the USB sitting the furthest away. the fool, he hadn't even asked you what sensation each one was before trying it out. it could've been pain, a ticklish feeling, but no, he got arousal. it was like he was overwhelmed like an animal in heat at once, his eyes shooting open as his cock strained against his trousers painfully. images of you involuntarily flashed through his mind, and he had to fight to keep himself breathing normally, but it was no use...

you get back to find him practically humping the air, strands of black and white hair sticking to his forehead as he pants and moans and begs for your help. you're concerned until you see the USB sticking out of his port and realize at once what he's done, lightly chastising him (horrendous torture for him in this state, surely, to have your breath so gently tickling his ear as he suffers) on not touching your tools without asking you first.

unfortunately, it'd be too risky to go in and fix this via his inner wiring while he's this worked up... it might burn you with how much he's overheating. so the only solution is to fuck his brains out until he's at least semi-conscious enough to cool down. good thing you made sure he'd be able to fuck in any way a normal man could when adding his sensitivity! giving him all the facilities is coming in handy.

poor guy doesn't even have the time or mental faculties to ask why the hell you had an arousal USB among the testers present.

ooooh, maybe use a toy on his cock while you pound into him... it'll give you a nice view of his face while he's being completely overwhelmed, his eye filled with hearts, rolling back as his tongue sticks out from behind those pretty lips of his. a nice, slick onahole should do wonders to cool him down after one, three, five... maybe more orgasms, even as he begs you to stop despite his hips continuing to rut into the gadget. the fun thing about fucking a robot is that he can go a lot more than a human can, and as much as boothill tosses his head from side to side, actual tears beginning to spill, you can also see the drool beginning to fall from his lips, his lolling tongue as he groans your name over and over.

he's got a pseudo-prostate that you make sure to nail with precision every time your strap slides inside of him, the impeccable design of his insides allowing you to slip in and out with ease. you remove the onahole from his weeping cock (another feature that aids the toy and your current activities as a whole), pushing his legs up and folding him in half into a mating press, just to see if he can cum only from his prostate. and cum he does - his voice coming out higher and higher pitched as he wails in both euphoria and humiliation at your treatment of him.

finally, you slow when you realize he has indeed begun to cool. his eyes are rolled back, hair messy and splayed across the table, harsh scratches made by his metal nails into the steel table (somehow). he's not quite unconscious, but he certainly can't form any further words, his breathing heaving with small, scattered moans as he tries to regain himself. his emergency cooling procedure had kicked into high gear at last, aiding you in fixing up his sensitivity.

oh, but perhaps leave that special USB lying around. mark it clearly, and pretend not to notice when boothill digs through your messy desk to find it and plug it back in, acting for all the world that he didn't mean to use that special little one on himself again. he's got too much pride to admit it, after all. oh well, it seems you'll have to help him once more!

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Hi I just learned Kinktober is a thing

So here's my four favorite boys and their kinks.

Or is it five this time? *dramatic sound effect*

And yes, I'm still working on ABCs of Kink, I've got the next one about halfway done and it may be posted today, and I'm still working through the ask requests, and still

But headcanons shiny need more

Ooooh...Kinky ;D

Very obviously NSFW.

LA!Zoro X AFAB!Reader, LA!Sanji X AFAB!Reader, LA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader, LA!Mihawk X AFAB!Reader, LA!Buggy X AFAB!Reader (I'm on my second watch of OPLA and he's kinda grown on me).

Zoro

"I hope you like it rough, baby."

Zoro's not super kinky, but he definitely likes it rough, which goes hand in hand with the couple kinks he does have.

You're going to want to have a safeword/signal if you're giving him a blowjob—he's thick and he loves seeing you gag and choke on his cock. Literally the biggest turn-on.

Holding tight onto your hair the whole time.

The sight of your make-up trailing down your flushed face while he's fucking your mouth and throat makes his knees weak.

Pulling your head all the way down to come down your throat, shaking, groaning, swearing.

He's a little cautious about outright choking you during sex—he doesn't want to get too wound up and unintentionally hurt you—but if you ask him to, he's going to, because it's still an enormous turn-on.

"God, I fucking love it when you gag on it...."

Sanji

"If I make you dinner, do I get to have you for dessert?"

Like, do I even have to say it?

Food play.

Chocolate sauce, whipped cream, caramel, it's going to get messy. Any reason to trail his lips and his tongue over your beautiful body is a very, very good reason.

(BTW I recently learned Taz Skylar has a tongue ring so it's now canon that Sanji has one and do not argue with me I will die on this hill.)

He's never going to do or say anything to degrade you...but if you want to do so to him? By all means, be his guest.

You're his queen and he's your loyal subject, the man has no qualms about you doing anything you want to him.

Shove him into a wall, call him names, tie him to the bed, step on him, whip him, spit in his face—he will thank you for it. If it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure.

Literally everything you do turns him on, and he's beyond happy to be your personal toy.

"You, my love, are the sweetest thing that has ever touched my lips."

Shanks

"Oh, come on, sweetheart. Where's the fun in life without a little risk?"

Honestly the kinkiest of the four (but not the five). Super playful, and one hundred percent open to absolutely anything you suggest trying.

I mean anything. If you tell him you want to dress him up in frilly lingerie and call him your wench, he's totally game.

But he reserves the right to crack stupid jokes about it the whole time.

His own biggest kink is public sex. The riskier the better.

Reaching under the table at a tavern and creeping his hand up your thigh and under your skirt to rub you through your panties...or just flat out pulling you onto him to straddle his lap, make out with you, grind against you with absolutely no concern of anyone seeing.

Pulling you right into the mouth of an alley, barely concealed in the shadows and just having you right there against the wall, where any passersby might catch a glimpse of what you're doing.

He doesn't care—it's not like anyone's even going to attempt to stop one of the most notorious pirates on the Grand Line.

He enjoys a little role-play as well. You're the little marine cadet he took prisoner and decided to keep as his personal playing. The enchanting stranger from a tavern he's seduced.

Call him "captain." It drives him wild.

"Oh, what a good little wench you are, love."

Mihawk

"You seem to have forgotten who's in charge here, little one."

One hundred percent certified professional Brat Tamer™.

He's not going to let on that your pestering and testing his patience is anything but a casual annoyance—but the whole time he'll be thinking about how he's going to punish you later for being such an endearing little pest.

You're getting tied up. Cuffed to the bed. Clothes torn off of you. Spanked. You're getting teased beyond the point of sanity, within an inch of your life.

There's a fair chance he won't let you come for literal hours.

That he'll leave you tied up while he sits back and has a glass of wine and just revels in your pleading for more, revels in being in total control of your agony and pleasure.

You're going to have to beg, to promise you'll be a good girl for your master (even though you both know that's not true) before you get anything more out of him.

Big kink for lace and nylon as well.

He's constantly having to buy you new tights, new underwear and lingerie, because seeing you in them sets him on fire to the point that he's very likely to literally rip them off of you in a fit of desire and fuck you absolutely senseless.

"For the last damned time, no, your safe-word cannot be Yoru."

Buggy

"You know you're my favorite freak, babe."

Couldn't not include Buggy this time because it's pretty obvious that he's the kinkiest motherfucker at this party.

The guy has removable body parts, for gods' sake, of course he's going to utilize them in the most creative ways possible. He could be on the other side of the ship and still have his hand down your panties.

Degradation, cuckhold, ropes, whips, chains, knife play, you name it and he's probably into it. It would be a miracle for you to come up with something he hasn't tried at least twice.

He's going to call you every degrading name he can think of. Spank you and slap you. Choke you until you nearly pass out. And he's fully open to and expects you to do the same to him.

Dom or sub, doesn't matter, he's just having a good old-fashioned filthy time either way.

Totally open to threesomes, he's bi as fuck.

Also totally open to chaining you up and letting the entire crew run a train on you while he watches.

If you can imagine it, he's done it, wrote the book on it, and you're going to be doing it with him.

"Don't even pretend you don't like being my slut."

[archangeldyke-all]

little fucker being like elementary school age and asking sevika to take her to the daddy daughter dance at school? 🥺

ooooh my god 🥹 (inspo pics for little fucker's dress and sevika's suit)

men and minors dni

your daughter's been quiet all evening.

when she got home from school, instead of rushing to the couch to watch tv or outside to play in the yard, she just sat down and got to work on her homework. usually, you have to remind her to do her work a million times.

when sevika got home from work, instead running and jumping in her mom's arms as a welcome home greeting, giggling as sevika pretends to throw her back out; little fucker just waved from her spot working at the table.

when you made your baby's favorite meal for dinner and she didn't even smile; you knew something was off.

little fucker's eight now, one of the smartest third graders in her class. you've noticed the very beginning signs of a pre-teen's attitude growing in your daughter: a little more sassy back talk that usual, more frequent mood swings; but this seems different than all of that.

still. your girl takes after sevika, and as much as you want to pry and ask her what's wrong: you know she'll come to you when she finds her words and is ready to talk.

she's quiet when you tuck her into bed.

when you and sevika finally settle in to sleep, she turns on her side with a worried expression.

"she say anything to you?" your wife asks. you shake your head no, pouting.

"poor baby."

sevika sighs, and pulls you into her chest.

an hour later, you're woken up by your daughter crawling into bed between the two of you.

"baby?" you mumble, shifting to make room for your girl. little fucker sighs as she crawls under the blankets. on her other side, sevika grunts in her sleep, subconsciously reaching out to pull her baby to her chest.

"hi ma..." little fucker mumbles. you reach out in the darkness, finding your daughters head and starting to scratch her scalp.

"what's goin' on, kiddo?" you whisper.

she sighs. "there's a daddy-daughter dance happening at school next week."

"oh." you whisper.

you've always known that having two moms makes your daughter a bit different from most of the kids she knows. since she was a baby, you and sevika have done your best to explain things to her in a way she can understand: that your family looks a bit different than others, that there are people out there who won't understand that, and that those facts don't make the love in your family any different or less than the love in every other family in the world.

still. your heart breaks a bit in moments like these, when your baby so clearly feels excluded.

you reach forward and kiss your girl's head, trying to find words to comfort her.

you don't have to-- little fucker speaks again before you can start fussing.

"ma, do you think..." she trails off. you kiss her head again to let her know you're listening. "do you think mommy would take me?" she whispers.

your heart swells with pride and you nearly burst into tears. "oh, my sweet, smart, beautiful girl." little fucker giggles as you pepper her head with kisses. "of course she would."

you actually do cry the next morning watching your daughter ask your wife to the daddy-daughter dance over breakfast; shyly handing her mom the flier she'd put in her school binder, asking if sevika'd go with her.

sevika holds it together enough to say yes, hug your baby, and send her off to catch her school bus. when the front door slams, sevika turns around with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"oh, baby." you coo, wrapping your wife up in a hug. sevika sobs in your shoulder and you laugh-- your wife's only ever this weepy about her girl.

"she's so fucking sweet." sevika cries. "where the fuck did she get that from?" she asks.

you pinch her ass and tsk. "uh, she got it from me, you ass."

sevika chuckles a snotty laugh against your shoulder, and you kiss her head.

you take your girls outfit shopping that weekend. little fucker's giddy the entire time, trying on dresses and modeling each one for you and sev: her catwalks down the dressing-room hall getting increasingly ridiculous as she tries to make you guys laugh.

she falls in love with a beautiful light blue dress, a ribbon around the waist separating the simple tank-like top from the flouncy, fluffy skirt of tulle.

"you look like cinderella!" you gasp. your daughter grins, twirling around and giggling as the skirts spin with her.

"i'm a princess!"

sevika's a much less enthusiastic shopper, but with her daughter there to encourage her, and a soft cinnamon pretzel shoved in her hands, she manages to find a suit that matches her baby's dress.

the night before the dance, you catch little fucker in her dress in her room, practicing her dancing with her big teddy bear.

that night when you and sevika are tucking her in, she asks for you to stay behind for a while. sevika shoots you a look and you shrug, just as confused by your daughter's request.

when the door clicks shut behind her mom, little fucker reaches out and holds your hand. "what happens if they don't let mommy in?" she asks. you should be saddened by the fact that your daughter has to worry about bullshit like this so young. but you can't hold in your cackle at your baby's question. "what?" she asks, scowling at you. "what's so funny?"

"oh baby." you giggle, trying to collect yourself and wiping tears from your cheeks. it's moments like this when you remember that your daughter knows a completely different sevika than you do: she only ever sees sevika's soft adoring smile, only ever hears 'yes' from her mom's lips. she's got no idea that her mom is scary to most people. "your mom's not gonna let anybody ruin your night, sweet girl. i think she's more excited than even you are." you promise her.

and you're right. when you slip back into your bedroom after kissing your baby goodnight again, you catch your wife in her suit, watching a youtube tutorial on how to slow dance.

you take about a million pictures of your girls the next night. little fucker's decked out in all her shiniest dress-up jewelry, a white sequined purse hanging off her tiny wrist. (containing one mini bag of cheetos, sevika's tube of brown lipstick, and a sheet of reptile stickers.)

sevika's on the brink of tears the entire time they pose in her little garden out back, blinking down at your kid adoringly. you know exactly what she's thinking the entire time: little fucker is growing up way too fast.

"you gonna be able to keep it together tonight?" you tease as you hug your wife goodbye. she chuckles.

behind her, little fucker's squirming with excitement as she waits on the front porch for you two to finish talking.

"i'll be fine. will you?" she asks. "all alone without your babies to keep you company?"

little fucker starts tugging on sevika's hand, trying to drag her to the car. "mom."

you snort. "i'm thinking i'll take a nice, long, quiet bubble bath. haven't had one of those since the shithead was born."

"mommy." little fucker groans.

"send pictures." sevika says with a wink. you snort.

"mom, let's go already!" your daughter whines.

you let the pair of them go, choking back tears as you wave goodbye.

throughout the night, sevika sends you a million pictures. from the looks of things, little fucker and all her friends had way too much fruit punch and cake, all dancing their tiny butts off-- sweating and giggling and high on a sugar buzz.

when they get home both of them are exhausted and grinning, little fucker rambling on and on about how much fun she had. "i had three pieces of cake, ma! and they were huge! and one was chocolate! and me and cindy taught mommy and cindy's dad how to do the floss!" she says, demonstrating the dance move. you cackle, then turn to sevika with a raised eyebrow, wanting to see the new skill she's learnt. she glares at you. but the second little fucker tugs her hand and giggles a "c'mon mommy!" she starts doing the dance in sync with her baby.

that night, after little fucker crashes in her bed with her dress still on and you and sevika crawl into bed, you get a text from one of the dad's you're on the pta with.

it's a picture of sevika and little fucker (your daughter clearly rambling about something as sevika listens with a fond smile) wrapped in each other's arms, slow dancing.

you make the picture your phone's background.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

[joonipertree]

Michael

Tags: Fluff, crack, absolutely stupid. Enjoy.

"michael"

a blank stare.

"michael manjiro." you said and promptly burst out laughing, leaning against your boyfriend who simply turned back to Draken and continued talking, face on his palm and body not budging at your weight.

toman chose not to mention your maniacal snorts and the uncharacteristic way their leader didn't pay attention to his partner.  The one person he looked at every time he talked to them, the person he would give his food to, the person that he has any inclination in taking care of. 

If there was a fight going on, they weren't getting involved. If a breakup was to happen, they would need a way to steer a sunken ship that would have their captain dangling from the side. Mikey and you fought but it was never public, nor did it last more than it takes you time to bat your eyes and cling to him. 

"Can I please for the love of god ask what's so funny? Mikey looks two seconds away from murdering kenny." Emma was the only one who had the guts to ask.

You got off mikey's back and stared at his side profile that was indeed glaring daggers at the vice captain. ooooh, you didn't realise there was trouble in paradise.

"Oh my god, Kenchin did something? In this economy? To you? How exciting."

"I didn't do anything, he's not mad….he's just taking his frustrations out on me because he's fucking soft for you.”

“You sound whipped, bro.” You said with a snort. “Couldn’t be me.”

A hand comes to squish your cheeks together. Your boyfriend finally looks you dead in the eyes, expression blank but edges soft. Your pout was even more puckered up and you made kissy sounds to ask for love.

The boy didn't budge.

How fucking dare he.

"What's my name?" Mikey was not going to let this go.

“Michael."

"It is not."

"That's what Mikey is short for." 

"what the fuck is this conversation?" emma murmured.

“I’ll give you a kiss if you call me anything but that white boy trash name." 

Your lips quirked up, "Michael Manjiro." and you were back to giggling uncontrollably.

Toman had never seen Mikey give you a stare that unamused, you were his baby so of course he could never feel anything but complete and utter adoration for you.

 He was still adoring, considering his rough calloused hands cradled your face but the vein popping out did not hide his irritation. 

“No.”

“I said your birth name, I have done nothing wrong.”

“You barely call me Manjiro, it’s always when you’re serious. You are most definitely not serious right now.”

“Michael Manjiro is a meticulously crafted name that was forged from what’s yours to sound like the name of the dude from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. How is that not serious?”

“It has been three days, please for the love of god, call me anything else.” The gang never thought they’d hear their leader sound that desperate.

 They’ve seen him cling to you and literally stop a fight just so he could go and hang out with you. They have seen many sides of Michael since you two started dating. But they have never heard their commander beg. They didn’t even realise he was capable of that and that you held all the power in Tokyo simply for being you. 

The fear they had for you had grown, wondering if this was a torture device that  could be used against them when an enemy attacks. Were you the enemy? Were you the devil toying with a poor man’s heart? Should they be worshiping you now??

“Mmmm, okay bro.”

And with that, they saw the fall of the most feared gang leader in Tokyo. The Invincible Mikey had been left for dead. 

You squish his face.

"my lil baby, why you so angy huh? is it cuz I called you a thing that lives in the sewers?" 

mikey felt his body melt at the pet name, leaning against your palms and deciding to ignore the second statement.

something caught his eye though.

both his hands cupped your face and you shut your eyes to enjoy how big and warm they were. he was always engulfing in his love, never scared to radiate his feelings onto you. 

mikey told you once that he had a chance to live a new life and he wanted to feel unapologetically. you loved that his feelings for you were felt with no hesitation. 

"is this some weird mating ritual?" hanma asked with his usual disgusted tone.

your hands squished your boyfriend's cheek harder in defiance. 

mikey swiped his thumb under your eyes, the pressure soothing your tight skin and making your cheeks relax completely.

"when was the last time you slept, love?" 

oh fuck.

"last night." You said in a meek voice.

mikey hummed and his thumb caressed the apple of your cheeks gently and you hoped if you stayed still long enough that he'd forget about you.

"how long?"

ofc he'd never forget u. fuck him and his undying love for you.

"the appropriate amount of time." 

he said your full name with a warning tone and your bottom lip wobbled because my god, mikey using anyone's proper name? unheard of.

"there you are, I was looking for you." a voice chimed in just as you were praying to the eldritch gods. chifuyu had earned himself the title of best friend right then and there. a blessing from the universe, your saviour. 

"what volume are you on now? are you done with the manga?

you hoped michael killed him.

your boyfriend stared at you, daring you to answer the question. you could just lie but in any case, you had been found out. mikey knew how you functioned. if a manga was good enough, you would sacrifice sleep and all worldly possessions to finish it.

"I did finish it." you mumbled, begging fuyu to read the room.

"in three days? god, it took me a week. so tell me---" 

mikey threw a shoe at chifuyu, it landed square in the face. 

[deadhands69]

Under the Christmas Tree 

MDNI 

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

Content/warnings/etc: gn/afab reader, Chapter 431 spoilers, porn with plot, post-canon/aged up slightly for no other reason than me being amused by the idea of Shouto Todoroki spending the entirety of his twenties after ch431 making stacks of soba bowls instead of ever attempting to get laid. He does get laid in this though: blowjob, fingering, slightly awkward sex (f on top, m on top), also contains swearing and explicit conversations.

2 1/2 Months Ago: Kaminari’s Halloween Party 

It wasn't really Halloween, but three days after. Being heroes, you are all used to it. Drinking holidays always bring out a villain streak in a lot of people so most of your gatherings end up on off days. After the long week, it was nice to have a lowkey night with a few old friends.

“Okay, you're up next!” Kirishima yells across the table, knuckles deep in candy corn. 

“Alright,” you pause to consider your next words. Looking down at your four upright fingers before continuing, “never have I ever…”

You can't remember what your actual words were. Whatever you said, it was boring. A few people groan around the circle, fingers dropping, then it's Sero’s turn. And he was determined to spice it back up again. 

“Never have I ever,” he starts with a twisted smile, “eaten ass…before breakfast.”

“Booooo,” Kaminari groans, tossing a few pieces of candy corn at him before dropping his last finger. “Okay, fine. Who's next?”

Shouto is up next. You prepared yourself for another odd one, his last turn was that he's never worn mismatched socks.

“Hey Todoroki,” chirped Mina, “quite a few fingers you're holding up there.”

He glanced down to the nine fingers still remaining before he looked at everyone else's in confusion. He was the only one in the room not down to one hand. Kaminari, Hagakure, and Shinso were all out. 

“Oh. Isn't that.. How you win?” 

“By losing at life?” Bakugo laughs. 

“There's no way you aren't lying,” Jiro adds, “wasn't Hagakure’s ‘never have I ever fucked a girl?’”

“I haven't done that with anyone,” Shouto responded. 

“There's no way,” Sero responded, “you're thirty! You've been voted the hottest hero in every girly magazine for ten years straight. I'm not buying it.”

“It's true, I really haven't,” Shouto said quite plainly, before glancing around the table again. He briefly locked eyes with you, searching for your reaction before quickly looking away. A blush crept up on his cheeks. 

Up to that moment, it had never occurred to him to be self conscious about his lack of sexual experience (or about anything, really.) But that night, with all of your eyes staring, he started to think maybe something was wrong with him. 

3 Weeks Ago: Mina & Kirishima’s Kitchen

“Here’s to comfort,” you read. 

“Ooh that's always a fun one!” Mina exclaimed, grabbing the blue stick out of your hand. “I'll pass that along to your Secret Santa!”

Every year since graduating from UA, your friends group has organized a gift giving game. It had now become some convoluted version of Secret Santa that started relatively normal but gained extra steps and rules along the way. At some point, popsicle sticks in a jar with phrases on the bottom of each were added to give your gifter a theme to stick to. Partially for fun, mostly because a few of your former classmates struggled without a prompt. 

“Ooooh, and guess what Todoroki got!” Mina fished through the jar for a green popsicle stick before holding it up, “‘a new experience!’ You can help him with that, riiiight?”

“Oh come on,” you dismiss, “he's cute but he’s clearly not interested in that sort of thing.”

“That's not what he said last week,” Mina winked at you. You look to Jiro for some confirmation.

“In more or less words, yeah.” 

“And that means…” you ask.

“I said ‘ooh sounds like someone’s getting a blowjob from Santa this year!’” Mina began laughing too hard to keep talking. Jiro continued, “we had to explain that no, we do not actually mean Santa. It was a whole thing, but in the end he said it’s something he’d been ‘thinking about a lot lately.’”

Kaminari chimed in, “and he’s had a crush on you for ages! I think you should do it, even if you don’t get him for Secret Santa.”

“Of course [y/n] will get him, we'll rig it. Like we do every year,” Mina flicked her eyebrows up at you. 

“Wait, what??” Kaminari exclaimed, dropping his beer. 

“You didn't know that?” Jiro asked, while throwing a towel at him. “You've been at the planning meetings, how could you not know that?”

“Okay, okay, you can explain it to him later. But now, let's get back to what's important.”

She moved into your space with intensity until her pink nose was nearly touching yours. Without breaking eye contact she asked:

“will you do it, [y/n]?” 

Current Date: Kaminari’s Holiday Party

“Okay, everyone remember. There are five hours left of today!” Mina announces, “I repeat, 5 hours! If you do not give your Secret Santa gift in this time, you will owe them lunch for a week!”

Secretly, nearly everyone hoped to get Bakugo for this reason - he’s an amazing cook and hates the game. Guaranteed lunch for a week. 

Maybe you got him this year, your gifter still hasn’t done anything. You haven’t either though.

It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s just… awkward. 

Plus, the opportunity hadn’t come up. You were only alone with Shouto twice in the past few weeks. Once, you were both called to an emergency and went home covered in ash and blood. The other time, you were trying to work up the courage to bring it up when Denki showed up at your door to use the bathroom after bursting a pipe in his (the joys of living two doors away from him.) After that, he was out of town for a week. Then he was jetlagged. This is your first time seeing him since then. He looks well rested, at least. 

Four hours pass by quickly. 

You need to find a way to draw him out but every time you’ve tried, he’s been busy. First with distributing the handmade soba bowls and chopsticks he’s gifting everyone. Now he’s playing a card game with Sero and Kirishima. You’d been following him around all night, looking for your opening to no avail. Maybe it’s the constant glancing or the way you’re tapping your foot, but his two opponents have taken notice of your predicament.  

“Heyy,” a drunk Kirishima throws an arm over Shouto’s shoulders, “it would be super manly if you helped [y/n] with their Christmas tree. It’s been propped up in the corner for days. Driving me crazy.” He winks at you.

“Yeah,” Shouto replies calmly, “I can do that. Right now?”

Thank you Kiri!

“Yeah,” Kirishima gives his shoulder a squeeze before letting him go, “better get to it before we forget again.”

“But I won’t for-” you grab his arm, immediately dragging him out the door and down the hallway towards your apartment. 

Fortunately, your place looks nice right now. You'd decorated, initially planning to host the party. However, your friends stepped in and made the decision to give you space for Shouto's gift. Plus, moving supplies to Denki's apartment took them all of five minutes. 

“This must be important to you, I’m happy to help,” Todoroki says while you push the door open to a perfectly upright and decorated Christmas tree. Considering that the glowing bulbs reflecting off the shiny ornaments are the only light source in the room, it certainly draws the attention. 

“Huh? Oh, right…” you really hoped he saw through the excuse, but this couldn’t have been that easy. He glances between you and the tree for a moment. 

“You don’t actually need help with this, do you?” he tentatively asks. 

“No, Shouto. I don’t need help with the tree. I…” you pause, considering your next words. You try to sound collected but they all come spilling out at once. “I’ve been trying to get you alone because I got you for secret santa.”

“Oh,” the previous conversation with Mina and Jiro comes flooding back to him, “oh.” 

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, very okay. Before I presume too much, do you mind telling me what the gift is?”

“It's…a new experience for you.”

He seems to like your confidence, that you're more experienced than him. When you grab the collar of his shirt to pull him further into the room, he follows eagerly. Dropping to sit across from you on the rug in the middle of your floor, the lights catch his face perfectly. You'd never realized how beautiful his eyes are up close. 

Leaning in, you press your lips into his.

You know it's not his first kiss. In varying years, a few of your friends have bragged about kissing him at midnight on New Years. But you know he's never kissed anyone like this before. Your hands are buried in his two toned hair, pressing him to the floor as you climb on top. He groans into your mouth, his head tipping up to you as his lips chase more closeness with yours. Your tongue slides over his, deepening the kiss. 

You take off his sweater, then the shirt underneath. Dragging your fingers over his bare chest.

Hips pressing into his while you straddle him. Dragging yourself over the hard bulge forming in his pants. The heat builds in your gut. It's time to take things further. 

Reluctantly, you pull your lips away from his. Crawling backwards down his body. At some point, while your face hovers above his belt, you have a realization. 

“You want this, right?” you ask, staring up into his heterochromatic eyes. Knowing that Shouto Todoroki would easily get himself into a situation like this without meaning to, it felt important to ask. 

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” you pull his underwear down with the pants as he tips his hips up to help you slide them off. 

And… wow.

Sure, it's not the most massive dick in the world but definitely the biggest you've ever seen in person. His pale leaky tip begging to be put in your mouth. He twitches at the feeling of your warm breath as you move closer, finally making contact when you lick the vein up his length. 

As soon as you touch him, he crumples under you like tissue paper. He exhales like he’s never relaxed so much in his life. Maybe he hasn’t.

You wrap your lips around his tip and press your tongue onto his shaft. Using your hands to make up for the areas your mouth can’t reach. As your head dips up and down, working up a good amount of spit and precum, his moaning increases. Soon, he’s jutting his hips up towards you. His hand gripping your hair harder.

You know he could cum right now if you let him, but you have more ideas tonight.

Pulling your lips away with a pop, you sit back up. He watches as you move over him, still working to steady his breath. This is a lot more than he really expected to happen tonight but he’s loving every minute of it.

Taking off the amount of clothes you need to, you laugh slightly at how clothed you still are in comparison to him. He’s down to just his socks. 

“You can take your socks off, you know.” 

He does, quickly. Now you have him completely naked under you.

Straddling his lap, you line him up with your entrance pulling your underwear to the side.

When you sink down onto his tip, you feel his girth immediately. Making it what you’d assume is about halfway down, you slide back up. Continuing to envelop him in small increments. You want so badly to maintain the image he has of you being cool and experienced but the stretch of taking all of him is becoming more of a task than you anticipated.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re doing great. It’s just…you’re kind of big.”

“Oh. I'm sorry if my penis isn't ideal.”

You could laugh. Seriously. The amount of guys who would be massively jealous and he has no fucking idea. 

“No, it's definitely not that. You have nothing to worry about; it'll just take a bit to get used to.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it better for you? I know you’re doing this for me, but I'd like to make you feel good too.”

“Yeah, you could use your fingers?”

One issue - you forgot his fingers are massive as well.

“Is this okay?” he asks, slowly inching his middle finger in after you showed him how. 

“Yeah, just.. A little faster now.”

Eventually, he gets the hang of it. Earning a huge gush of cum from you, leaving his fingers sticky. His hand lingers for a moment while you come down. You’re still gripping his shoulders and breathing hard into his chest. Finally, you look up at him.

You haven’t seen him look this proud of himself in a long time.

“Does this mean we can try again?” he asks, “if you’re finished after that I can respect that as well.” 

“Yeah, we can definitely keep going,” you smile, shoving him onto his back again. You begin removing more clothes, starting with your now damp undergarments. 

This time, when you line yourself up you slide a little easier onto him. Still not quite fitting the whole thing but the stretch is much less now. 

Your elbows drop by his head, caging him to the ground under you. He brings his warm (and cold) hands to your hips, enjoying the way your skin moves against his fingers as you bounce up and down on him. The sound of your combined breathing fills your living room, nearly echoing from the corners. Holiday lights still illuminating his face while he stares up at you in amazement.

Why didn’t you do this sooner?

You continue riding his dick until the tension in your gut builds. Soon you’re clenching around him while holding onto his shoulders for support again. Your bounce slows to a grind while you press yourself as close to him as possible.

“Shouto,” you moan into his ear.

He groans and turns his head to kiss you.

“Can I..” he asks, sitting the two of you up while he holds you against his chest.

“Uh huh,” you nod and he has you on your back. Hips rutting between your legs that are now wrapped around his back.

Within the minute, it’s his turn. 

“I’m about to cum,” he moans, “is it okay if I-”

“Yeah, please cum,” you whisper.

Immediately, he whimpers - pulling you closer while he gushes inside of you.

"I've wanted to do that for years," he murmurs.

You move the hair out of each other’s eyes while you catch your breath. Eventually making your way off the living room floor.

While you’re getting cleaned up, he excuses himself briefly. Saying he needed to grab something from his car. You figure it’s toiletries or something and carry on.

A few minutes later, as you’re coming out of the bathroom freshly changed into comfortable clothes as he re-enters your front door. In his arms is a massive fluffy blanket, which he promptly wraps around you then leads you to your couch. 

“I’m your secret santa this year. I was waiting until after midnight to give you your gift, I wanted the excuse to take you out to lunch for a week,” he says while wrapping his arms around you, warming you further. “There's a new soba place I'd like to try, but I'm open to your suggestions as well.”

Down the hall, your friends were all guessing when they’d see you next. Some saying that one or both of you would come running back within the hour. Much to the delight of Mina, Jiro, Kaminari, and Kirishima - they guessed right. No one saw the two of you until you emerged from your apartment the next morning.

m.list

Okay, this whole thing was admittedly written after reading chapter 431 with izuchako becoming a thing and Jiro/Denki’s friendship deepening while Shouto just doubles down hard on soba. Something about that plus his absolute obliviousness is hilarious to me but I mostly write smut so it led to this weird awkward thing. Thanks for reading!

[cosmerelists]

Rosharans Rate Foods Not Native to their Planet

As requested by @makothedorito :)

@makothedorito wanted to know what would happen if Stormlight characters encountered food not native to their planet. Here's what I think!

1. Szeth reviews Mountain Dew

Szeth: Horrible. Szeth: A bright, unconscionable green color. Sickly, horribly sweet. Like acidic poison in my throat. Szeth: Also made me feel, strangely, as though even without powers, I could fly. Szeth: ... Szeth: 3/5 stars.

2. Lift reviews Mountain Dew

Lift: Actually,SzethonlytooklikeonesipbeforeItookitfromhim. Lift: IsawthecrazylookhewasgettinginhiseyesandIwaslikenosir. Lift: Luckily,IdrankthewholebottleandI'mnotbeingaffectedatall! Wyndle: [crying]: Mistress, PLEASE use Regrowth I think you're dying!

3. Shallan reviews chocolate

Shallan: Oh, 5/5 for sure! Shallan: Radiant likes the dark chocolate because the "bitterness adds to the sweetness," apparently. Shallan: Veil likes milk chocolate coating other things--so like sugar with another, harder layer of sugar. Shallan: I gotta say--I like the bars! Something about being able to crack off pieces and eat them is so satisfying. Adolin: So the 19 wrappers I see around our room... Shallan: Head's up, I may never sleep again!

4. Rushu reviews coffee

Rushu: My research indicated that this drink is supposed to make you alert and eager for action! Rushu: But...my thoughts have never BEEN so sedate. Honestly, I could take a nap right now. Rushu: Odd. Rushu: 4/5, I suppose.

5. Nomad reviews hot 'n' spicy wings

Nomad: [a single tear running down his face] Nomad: Finally...some good fucking food...

6. Renarin reviews steak

Renarin: You would think that "well done" is the opposite of "badly done" but Renarin: ... Renarin: I suppose I know what it is like to eat leather.

7. Bridge Four reviews pizza

Lopen: Man, it's great! Look at this one--so thin and droopy you have to roll it up to eat it! Rock: What is your insanity? This one that is so thick you must cut into it with a large knife is the way to go. I want my pizza to be as deep as my fist. Lopen: Thin is better!! Rock: Thick is superior!! Skar: I can't say why, but I'm partial to the one cut into squares. Really crackling crust, too. It just feels right, somehow... Rock: Skar, friend, I respect your opinion even though it is 100% wrong. Kaladin: Isn't all pizza just a tad...greasy? Lopen: Ha ha! You say such weird things somethings, Kaladin! Lyn: Ooooh....this one with ham and the sweet yellow fruit is AMAZING! Best pizza of all time hello?? Lopen: ... Rock: ... Skar: ... Kaladin: ... Lopen: I can't believe we have to kick Lyn out of Bridge Four. Lyn: HEY

[awrkive]

OOOOH this event sounds so fun, could I have angst #21 (the bl*od one) with JK please? Low-key I’m thinking of like a royal vibe where like they’re both royals but enemies but it’s up to you Dee whatever you write I will gladly eat up 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

callofthegreen asked: Angst+21+ Jungkook (I'm a sucker for angst, and you always make it hurt so good, love you 💗)

21. "Is that... blood? Please tell me it isn't blood."

note: you said royals and i immediately thought... fantasy 🤓🤓 man idk the setting is very much inspired by mlbb universe 😭 this is kinda erm but hope you both enjoy i tried my best! 😭

wc: 1.8k (boo i know sorry)

You try to conceal the uncomfortable gnawing at your thigh – but the trek to the steep of the mountain was getting too much to bear, and every passing second is starting to feel like suicide. 

Subtly looking to the side, you observe Jungkook stands just fine. He has cuts all over his face from the attack of the common creeps back at the jungle, but he generally looks okay overall. Meanwhile, you still haven’t told him a horned lizard got you good and sliced quite deeply at your thigh when you made the mistake of kicking at the wrong time. 

It hurts like hell. Jungkook has been offering to stop by at few spots whenever he hears you inhale a sharp breath, probably assuming your discomfort about the length of the walk, but you couldn’t have it in you for him to think that you aren’t built for this. 

He’s spent the entirety of your childhood mocking you for your poor archery skills, laughing with his older cousins about how you couldn’t even pick up a sword the right way. He bitched and moaned about his status to be prince – completely wanting to be a warrior instead, and as a result insulted you for acquiescing to your royal responsibility of being princess. 

You hate him for many things. Hate him for how he affected you all those years, hate him for making you cry on the night of your 13th birthday, hate him for the fact that your father liked him more than you, and hate how he goes through life like it’s his stage and he’s the main character who never dies. 

Right now, Jungkook isn’t like the scrawny kid who used to pick on you for a hobby, second to perfecting his sports – he’s now a twenty-seven-year-old responsible king who had strategically led the movement of winning the impending war. 

But that doesn’t magically erase all the animosity you have towards him. 

You hate that you’re betrothed to him, hate that you knew that even before your father and your mother broke the news to you at the ripe age of 18. Hate that both your kingdoms are to form an alliance to battle the current rise of rebellion from the west. But after you lost your parents from the war that transpired two years ago, it had to be done. 

Jungkook may not be the same old guy who made half your life miserable – but you know that underneath his composure and the respectable manner in which he presents himself with now is nothing but a mere facade. 

Frankly, you do not trust him. You do not trust his plans. You do not support the war and everything that he and his council stands for. 

You don't want to be by his side when you're proven right.

And the last thing you'd want to be in front of Jungkook is weak. 

But a goddamn rock had made you trip on your own way, and you couldn’t help the shriek that escapes your mouth when you drop on the ground. 

“Fuck–” you pull your wounded thigh up, automatically wrapping your hand around the area and squeezing to manage the throbbing pain. “Shit.” You hiss when you see red your trousers, panicking internally. 

“What the hell– is that blood?” Jungkook drops his bladric on the ground and immediately goes to you, eyes widening at the sight of your thigh. “Please tell me it isn’t blood.” 

“Don’t touch me!” You say when Jungkook hovers over your thigh. He recoils, and you know he didn't expect that much hostility – given that you’ve been quiet for the entirety of the trek, and even though you haven’t exactly been welcoming to him for the past month of the expedition you both coincidentally sneaked yourselves into, you’ve been civil. 

Jungkook pulls back, one knee bent on the layer of dirt on the ground, hands surrendering up as if to reassure you he wasn’t going to do something you wouldn’t like. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.” 

“You’re not.” Jungkook retorts, eyes trailing to the growing spot of blood on the fabric of your trousers. It’s getting more painful by the second –  and you want nothing but to scream about how it fucking stings. “Jesus christ, __, just let me help. That’s a damn big wound you’ve got there.” 

“I’m fine–” you insist, but it’s broken by a sharp intake of breath as another twinge comes up. you wince. “I just need– I just need some fabric. Tie it around the wound.” You manage to say, distressed. Both physically and emotionally. 

“We need to– I need to clean you up,” Jungkook says and maybe it’s your eyes playing jedi games on you but for once, he actually looks genuine to you. As if he actually cares. 

You scoff. “I can do that myself.” 

You don’t expect the way Jungkook snaps. 

“For once, can you stop being stubborn? You can barely breathe properly, __. You can say and think what you want and hate me again after this but just let me take care of you this one time. I’m going to clean your wound and make sure you’re not gonna bleed yourself to death by the time we arrive at the port.” Jungkook looks into your eyes and they feel almost… earnest. Like he wants you to really listen to him. He closes and opens his mouth as if wanting to say something. You wait for it, then for a few seconds it doesn’t come, until... “I’m not out to get you, __.” 

I’m not out to get you. It’s a simple sentence with a simple message. One that you should understand right away. 

But you don't.

You avoid his eyes when you only say, “I don’t trust you.” 

What you don’t expect is his quick answer.

“I know.” 

He crosses the distance between you once again, and you watch as he hesitantly hovers his hand over your thigh again. He looks for your face, silent – but his eyes scream for permission. You don’t give it verbally; too tired to speak, too consumed by the pain in your leg to voice out any more complaints lodged in your throat. 

When Jungkook initially places his hand on your leg, you don’t flinch. And it’s a surprise. Surprise because you expected his touch to burn you like how Icarus did when he flew too close to the sun, but instead it felt like winter night. Cold, but strangely warm. 

When you don’t say anything, he halts.

“Can I?” He asks. Leveled. Waiting. Always waiting. Almost gentle…

You purse your lips when you nod your head. 

Jungkook brings forward his satchel where he takes out a small knife, and there’s nothing but the gentle breeze of the wind and songs of the birds surrounding you at this part of the mountain when Jungkook begins cutting throught the fabric of your pants, effectively revealing the – admittedly – ghastly cut on your bare thigh. 

“Jesus,” Jungkook looks at you, eyebrows creased. “When did you get this? It can’t be from the fall.” 

“I–” you clear your throat and look away, ashamed to be admitting this now. “The horned lizard got me back at jungle.”

Jungkook looks like he wanted to say something but for god knows what, he keeps it to himself.

You watch quietly as he takes out a flask, twisting open the cap and looks at you before pouring over the water on the wound. 

When you hiss in pain, Jungkook immediately stops. 

“Are–” 

“I’m fine– it’s okay,” you assure him, biting your lip, glancing down at your wound. It would be hard to walk further carrying this with you. 

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook says. You assume it’s for his previous action, but you don’t exactly know how that guaranteed an apology.

You ignore it and he continues tending to the wound, relieved that he’s got some clean scraps of fabric in his bag – a quick aid kit, perhaps – to tap your wound with, and when he asks you to leverage his shoulder for a little bit so he can lift your thigh up a little in order to wrap the fabric around your thigh, your breath hitch at the proximity. 

Even though you and Jungkook are bethroted, you never really shared any moments where you’re required to be as close like this. The banquets are public appearances that only needed you and him to sit beside each other and smile and laugh at the visitors so they think you’re a good pair, but once the doors are closed, one becomes a stranger to another. 

But this… this feels different. It’s… intimate, in a way. 

When you said that his touch didn’t burn, it felt a little more different when you feel his skin touch yours. There’s a little spark to it – fleeting, quick. And you swear he lingers for longer than necessary when he finishes tending to the wound. 

It makes you confused.

“I wish you told me sooner.” Is what Jungkook says when he lets go. 

You pull your hand away from his shoulder. “I didn’t want us to lag behind.” 

“I wouldn’t have mind.” Jungkook says. It’s spoken with so much sincerity that it suddenly triggers a lot of underlying pain – and not just because there’s a big wound on your thigh that’s feeling a little better now – but because Jungkook is acting so different with you. “I’ll try to hunt us something to eat. We’ll stay here for a while so you can rest. Your wound’s pretty fucking big and I’m sure it’s gonne be swollen in a few minutes. Let’s just dry it out for awhile so I can apply the gel all over it, and then we can–” 

“Jungkook,” you cut him off. “Can you stop?” 

He looks at you, rightfully confused. 

You feel mad. Mad at the horned lizard for cutting you. Mad at yourself for letting yourself get cut. Mad at Jungkoook. Mad that he’s being nice. Mad at the situation. Mad at the war. And mad that all of this doesn’t make sense to you. 

“Stop trying to act like you care," You purse your lips and stare into his eyes when you add, “I don’t trust you. Right now I’m putting my guards down and maybe you feel nice enough to not obliterate it but this doesn’t mean you suddenly get to act like you’ve always cared about me. You never did, and I doubt you ever will.” 

Jungkook looks at you. His dark brown orbs have always held something in them – the stars, looks like it, but the stars were beautiful and you didn’t like associating him with beautiful things. 

“You don’t know everything.” Jungkook says, looking away just as he says that. You thought there was more… or maybe you thought there was more so you could retaliate with something – just something – but no words come after it. 

You find yourselves staring blankly ahead at the landscape of nothing but the vast blue skies. 

[threepandas]

Bad End: Games Played

As children, we learn to play the Quite Game.

It's rather simple. You scrunch down real small, ball yourself real tight, and find the bestest most hard to reach hiding spot you can! Then? Oh THEN, children, we all get really, REALLY quite. Until mummy or daddy find you. And no matter what, no matter WHO, you Do Not Move, until THEY come and find you.

Not for treats. Not for hugs. Not for threats or scary noises.

No. Matter. What.

To the others, it was a game. But to me? Born just a bit... different? I looked my parents in the eyes, saw the fear that lived there. That hunted them and haunted their dreams. I watched the way they acted. Guarding me. Never letting me wander. Keeping me between them as they slept. Holding me, shielding me. Both whispering their lessons, their love, each moment they could.

And I knew it was no game.

I was an obedient child. Perhaps that is why I lived, where others did not.

Or perhaps? It was my vague, half remembered, knowledge of this world. To be more exact, the chronological series of Otome games, set in this world. Endless streams of political and social clusterfucks, that cast the map into conflict after conflict, all for the selfish romances of a few. Pseudo-historical straight to pseudo-modern magical realism.

Clans of mages. Elves, werewolves, the whole shebang. All trapped in an endless cycle of conflict. Sometimes silent, sometimes open. Always, soaked in blood.

But hey... at least the Protagonist is happy! Right?

We should be furious. We should HATE them.

Our Clan? Did shadow magic. Unfortunately. Because unsurprisingly, Otome troupes ran true, and we? Have a complete Edgy Little Fuckboi as our Clan Heir. Worse still, I RECOGNIZE that Edgy Little Fuckboi! The fucking chuunibyou is a romance target!

I'm sorry, I was under the impression the Clan Heir's job was to KEEP US ALL ALIVE! Not get your DICK WET! But, my bad! My fucking MISTAKE! How COULD I have BEEN so foolish! You go on, then! Just piss RIGHT off, and leave the rest of us to suffer, while you chase SOMEONE ELSE'S GIRLFRIEND!

Fuckwit!

Ha ha.... oh god. We're all gonna die. Aren't we?

We should trust Alphard. No one else understands us.

Everyone? Absolutely fucking EVERYONE? Waves it off. 'Just a phase' and 'he's young, he'll get it out of his system'. As though the problems doesn't run deeper. As though the Clan Head isn't an old man, barely holding us together. As though he isn't planning to hand it all over to a chuunibyou who refuses to sit still and LEARN ANYTHING. Who picks fights he expects US to win for him. Expects US to die for him.

So he can look 'cool'.

Alphard is basicly running this place. But does the Clan Head care? No. Because Alphard is a 'half-breed'. Because ALPHARD has the audacity to be, what? Fire Mage?! Oh dear god! Not ANOTHER GROUP OF HUMANS!? Gasp! Shock! Someone call the fantasy church! Fuckers.

Ooooh but their TEMPER! Everyone knows how UNSTABLE they are!

We should show them 'Unstable'. Make them regret what they've done.

'Bout to see up close and in person MY 'temper' and 'unstable' fuckin BOOT, old man!

No, I don't care if that made sense! Shut up! Fuck you! I get to be upset, okay!? This is nepotism and it's dangerous! And... and NO ONE LISTENS TO ME! It's like they're merrily marching towards a cliff and calling ME paranoid for pointing it out! Telling me to calm down. To stop exaggerating. It's a CLIFF!

The only one who listens? Is Alphard.

Alphard is our friend. Alphard listens to us. We should Trust Alphard.

Storming towards his office, shadows writhing in my wake, I seriously wonder. Would I have gone completely apeshit by now with out him? Left the clan? I don't know how he can bear it. The weight of their stubbornness. Their wilful blindness, which IS going to get people hurt. Killed. Probably already fuckin has.

How many more clansmen do we have to LOSE?

They'd tucked him away in some side wing, like some dirty little family secret. I'd always hated it. Big whoop! He gets two powers instead of one! Jealous ass little shits. It was fear and politics. I KNEW it was! He refused to say so, but I KNEW. And no amount of pained smiles and changing the subject would make me drop it!

It wasn't RIGHT.

God, the more time went on? The angrier I felt about it. The more it burned me. Ate me up inside. It's like my temper just...? Gah! Fuck this and fuck THEM! We don't need them! We should leave! Just the two of us. Go and never com-!

.....wait a second... that's not... right....

My head pounds with the worst sort of migraine. Shadows hissing like angry cats, as they crawled viciously around my head. Chasing whisps of something they can't seem to catch. I stopped between hallways. In one of our Clan's many, MANY shady areas. Leaning more into the darkness... helped. Made my head hurt less.

God, I've got to talk to talk to Alphard about this. It's starting to really worry me. The anger, the snarling flare ups, the dark moods. Not to mention the obsessive thoughts. It wasn't like me. Might be a curse? Maybe. Could be fire magic or related, so he would know. And if not? Well, nothing beats Fire for burning curses away.

....actually, Light, might. But we are A PROUDLY BIASED household here, thank you. So like? Not gonna SAY Shadow magic is BEST magic... BUT it absolutely, totally IS. And Alphard? OBVIOUSLY the greatest Fire Mage alive! No I will not be taking questions, thank you and goodnight.

We should see Alphard, we miss him.

Yeah... yeah I do really miss him, dont I? Where is he?

My head throbs viciously. Ow. It's been getting worse. My control too. My shadows fighting me at every turn. Which? Scares me more. Because YEAH, others? Have been big on the 'beat them into submission' tract of Shadow Mastery. But ME? No, no. I know for a FACT. You can not rule through fear. Not for long.

Bribery and alliances work wonders. Friendships and love. My shadows get FED. They get CUDDLES. I take my shadows for enrichment walkies and give them interesting puzzle boxes to play with. They fuckin LOVE me. Would meat thresher through CITIES if I asked.

So to suddenly Stop Listening?

It means they think I'm... I'm not myself. They are making the executive decision to act on my behalf, to protect me, even if they have to do so FROM me. And... and I don't know what's causing it. Don't know what's wrong or how to fix it. I'm getting scared.

Because something is very wrong.

Everything is fine.

Another wave of vicious hissing, of throbbing pain in my head. This time though... THIS time? I think I felt that. The discordant thoughts. The contradiction. That isn't me. There's something in me head that DEFINITELY isn't me! No there isn't. No WONDER my Shadows are so pissed! Fuck!

I stick to the darker hallways. It helps with concentration, the pain. Whatever is in my head? Is like sticky, burning, spiderwebs. Like trying to grab at thin lines of super heated metal, covered in tar. How... how LONG has it all BEEN there?

You should leave it. You don't know what you're doing. You could get hurt.

Oh fuuuuck YOU. Get out of my HEAD! Where is Alphard?

I stumble down the final hallway to his so called 'office'. It was a guest room once. As a kid, I helped him convert it. Back when the old fuck refused to step down, despite his son and heir, the next clan head, being DEAD. And? AND!? That Heir's fuckin chuunibyou kid being a tiny, insufferable, brat.

We get it! You're hurting! EVERYBODY'S hurting! Your fuckwit parents got HALF THE WARRIORS KILLED! We STILL haven't recovered from that. And Edgy pants goes on and ON about the 'glory of his ancestors' as though? He's not talking about his PARENTS. One generation fucking BACK!

That family ORPHANED me. But do you see ME starting shit? No!

Yet? God forbid the Old Bastard do what's RIGHT for the Clan! No, no! Between a literal infant, a FUCKING ZYGOTE, and a fully grown adult? Better pick the baby! Who CARES that Alphard was the better choice!? Chuunibyou brat is BLOOD! And we CAN'T have the 'half-breed' nephew in charge!

Better connections? More accomplishments? Fully trained and, once again, AN ADULT? All irrelevant. He's too fucking well liked! Too TRUSTED! Too much a THREAT to your precious little legacy and hold on power. So hey, fuck the rest of the Clan! Right? Why would WE need competent leadership!? You can just shove all the work you can no longer DO, on to Alphard.

Force him to rule in all but name. All but honor and title. Spit in his face then tell him to thank you.

Bastard!

He isn't there, in his over crowded office. Piles of paperwork. Empty tea cups, long cold. Mismatched pillows I'd stolen from around the compound, to make it feel less depressing. His classy art pieces mixing with my cheap, shitty ones. The souvenirs I'd brought back, again and again, because I do not forget my friends.

My head hurts so bad. How long has it been building?

Another wave of pain, as my Shadows hissing and growl in outrage, writhing like electric snakes around me. Safe and stronger, here in the unlit office of a friend. They want 'it' out. Hunt and hunt, but can not catch hold. How strong must the caster be? Older then me, probably. Far more experienced. I've been pretty diligent.

They'll stand no chance, though, against Alphard.

He's the best curse breaker I know. Honestly? He's the best at a lot of things. It's been great to learn from him. And he's? Gonna lose his SHIT. He already worries when I go out without him. But to find out somebody slipped a curse on me? Ooooh, shit. I'd almost laugh, if my head didn't feel like it was in a VICE.

Man's gonna feed them their KNEES.

As a PASTE.

.......I wonder, now that I think about it? Looking around the crowded office space? If Alphard has any pain meds? He SHOULD. There's no way in hell, he deals with chronic stupid all day without headaches. He should? Definitely have something for this. Probably. Might not actually FIX it, since it's magic based, but it can't HURT.

Decided, I get up. Slowly. Spread my shadows out. They love doing simple, achievable, tasks. Like 'find the box!' Or 'open this puzzle!', usually for treat rewards. (Cup time, usually. Or bits of my food. But honestly? They LOVE cup time. They like to hide under it and push it around the floor. Each group of them have favorite cups.)

Nothing but paper, cups, snacks, a couple piles of pillows, and a coat I had forgotten. Huh. Maybe his desk? Would make the most sense I suppose. It'd be on hand. Head and neck, one big regret, I stiffly shambled over. Organized chaos. More nonsense and damages caused by chuunibyou and his sycophants, in the name of luuuuuv~. God damn it.

At least no one died... this time.

I tear my eyes away from the top page. The one next to it? Shouting reports. Elves: pissed, werewolves: pissed, everybody: pissed. Guess who's fault? Oh fantastic! So THAT'S why he's not in his office. Probably trying to keep us all from dying. Another report after that. Protagonist-chan.... wow that's unflattering. Word it a little harsher, why don't you?

My eyes absent-mindedly keep scanning, as I look for a med box. Some sort of pill bottle. Something that might hold headache medication. Nothing on top of the desk. Drawer? Should be top right one, right? Since he's right handed? Easiest to reach. Let's see... pens, pens, spellwork paper, brushes, mints, bottle! AaaHAH! I hold it up to what little light there is and squint.

Wow. That's pretty strong. And not just for headaches.

.....should I have a talk with Alphard? Probably. Maybe? Definitely keep an eye on this. Don't wanna be jumping to conclusions, here. Still! Helpful. Down the hatch!

I pop back one of his pills, stealing one of his fancy tea in a can. He may complain, but we both know he won't stop me. Nor does he even mean it when he does. I'm like this sorta needy, demanding, housecat. I wander in, eat his food, tell him to pay attention to me, then wander off. Should have known better then to feed me, that first time~! He got stuck with me ever since.

Briefly a burning wire escape my grip. We should-Stop THAT! I beat it back down. Violently. It's taking a lot more concentration, more pain, then I'd like to admit, to fight it. Damn near wack a mole in my brain. There's no-CEASE! Desist! You are NOT welcome! Get! GET!

The pain meds are definitely helping. A LOT.

In fact...? Huh. Looking around? Without the pain to distract me? Those... aren't my shitty art works. Not the meme-y ones I bought, that I thought he'd like, nor the pieces I made in various art classes. They're just...? Random cheap art.

What the fuck?

Was Alphard ROBBED? Also? Where are HIS pieces? That one with the lady and the clearing? The couple dancing near the lake? That little statue? It's all random snobby fake art. Like someone wanted to give the IMPRESSION that nothing had changed, but had cleared out everything personal...

Alarmed. I looked down at the can I grabbed. It was the kind he offered to guests. Kept for me. Because... because he couldn't STAND it. Too sweet. Tearing the mini fridge back open? Nothing but cheap tea cans and teas he hated remained.

I slammed it closed. Urgently reached for the tea cubbies. Fancy LOOKING teas. The kind Alphard always makes fun of. Quality is in the tea, not the pretty pictures on the box, he says. His tea is GONE. Worse? MY drinks are gone! Why are MY drink-? The coat!

My hand snaps out. The coat flung into it by my shadows. The instant it touchs my palm, I know it is wrong. Too rough and too new. Some modified mimicry that my shadows could tell apart from the original. It's not their fault. They don't have senses like mine. I stare at it, feeling a building sense of panic, before look back up at the room around me.

Is... is ANYTHING where it should be?

Gaze snapping from place to place, shaking as the panic starts to swallow me whole, I realize... No. Not a single thing. It's all staged. Made to LOOK like nothing's wrong. When... when everything IS. Oh god. Where is Alphard? What the FUCK have they DONE to him?!

I drop the coat. The drink. Adrenaline slamming into me like a truck. Slamming the door open, I flood the hallway beyond with writhing, furious night. I AM Shadow and it IS Me. We run. Hunting, hurting, FURIOUS. If they have hurt our friend? If they DARE have-!

A howling whistle splits the night, closer, Closer, BANG. The compound rocks with the force of the explosion. The wards hiss to life like great titans of black sand. Ink dark, they nerely block out all light. Casting eerie spell light over the buildings below, as lights flip on. More whistling. Booms.

We are under attack.

For an instant, I am torn in two. Half of me? Demands I find my friend. They other half? Knows that I must protect the Clan. We stand together or we DIE together. Loyalty wins out. My parents, Alphard, the people I care about, they would never forgive me, if I abandoned my post now.

I turn from my hunt. Race towards the ward stones out front. I'll have to help the others reinforce them. Lend the Clan my strength. As long as they can't get in? We should be-

The wards SHUT OFF.

Even as I run, fast as I can, I watch with horrified eyes... as they slide back away. No. No no NO! They should do that! That CAN'T DO THAT! That's IMPOSSIBLE! Those are SEIGE Wards! Built over generations! Hundreds of mages poured power into them! Went over them with pin prick combs! They don't 'malfunction'!

Oh god. Please, God, NO!

Did someone SHUT THEM DOWN?!

Ahead, the sounds of violence and chaos draw near. Above, I can finally see what's raining down on us. It's war magic. FIRE war magic. Thrown from air ships, who's spotlights bathe the compound in a terrible, all consuming light. All the better, to prevent our Shadows from reaching even a single one of them.

Someone told. They didn't know about that limitation to our powers before. Our front gate! Open! Traitor, traitor, TRAITOR! WHO!?

Across the chaos, the bloodshed and death, familiar color catches my eye. Explosions and spotlights light him from above. The airships blades, kicking up leaves and dust. That familiar, familiar color. From his Father.... the fire mage.

Alphard stands so calmly, one hand still resting on the command stone for the wards. As chaos reigns around him. The pleased little smile on his face, the one he wears, when all his plans come together, ever so nicely. No. Please. No.

His eyes are so cold. So flat.

He feels nothing as they die. Doesn't even glance, at the kinsmen desperately calling his name. Dying at his feet. He... he doesn't look away. Just raises one hand, one finger, and...

"Shhhhhh~ Be. Good." He says, utterly silent in his betrayal.

My world shatters.

I run.

Slamming my palm against the evacuation alarm, sirens begin to blare. It's over. It's all... all fucking over. How could he? H-How COULD-? Grief wants to choke me, blind me, but I don't have the TIME. I have to get out. Survive. I.. I can cry later. Mourn for the friend I THOUGHT I had, later. I trusted him. FUCK, I TRUSTED him!

I skid around the corner, heading towards the closest exit. Gotta grab my bug out b-!

Shadows in the darkened hallway surge, up and over, like a heavy hand slamming down. I barely drag myself out of the way. Lose my footing as I do. Go crashing to the floor. Scrambling, I turn as my shadows hiss, only to be met with deeper rumbling thunder. Shit. No!

I try to get up. Fling my self up into a run. Only to meet a shadow formed backhand. Smashed, thrown. Finding myself slammed back, onto the floor, wheezing. The air knocked out of me. Lightly, dark shapes takes form. Alphard stepping through blank and barren wall, using the Shadows under his control as a medium.

Not a hair out of place.

Just the two of us.

Alone.

"Why the rush, mischief?" He teased lightly, as though my world was not collapsing, all around us. As though my best friend had not betrayed me, betrayed US, to our doom. Up and down the hall, sirens blared. "You look upset."

I snarled. Grief and betrayal twisting into something ugly in my chest. Hand whipping out, I aimed for his fucking throat.

"Ah~, you're mad. Is this because I didn't consult with you first? Mischief, there was so much to do! You know you hate all those boring political meetings. Alliance work and archival research. Sweetie, there were stake outs! You hate those."

Effortlessly, he leaned out of the way of my attacks, looking amused and unbothered as he continued to speak. I RAGED. Screamed. Taking chunks of the wall behind me, to use as projectiles. Anything. Anything, anything, ANYTHING! Just HURT, damn you! TRAITOR! How COULD YOU!?

In the distance... the haunting, damning, final cries of my kin, as the died.

I Trusted You!

"I know~" he laughed, as though nothing had changed. As though this were a fucking GAME! "It was so easy, too."

His voice became two toned in a way that could only be magic. One that was heard, one that was felt. One that... that I had...! Realization did not crash. It seeped, like the cold and fatal poison it was. His betrayal was not NEW... was it? Not SUDDEN.

I... I had been betrayed long, long ago.

No you weren't. Alphard loves you~

How long had he been in my head? He was my magical instructor. I had hated the Clan's main teachers. Right? DID I? Could I even know? H..How much? For HOW LONG?! I was a CHILD! Had no defenses against the manipulations of my mind! Would you really stoop so LOW?! Was ANYTHING real!? ANY part of out friendship-!?

I choked, on the sob I refused to let him have. He... he didn't have the RIGHT.

"Oh, Mischief." He said, sounding mournful as he strolled easily through the ruins I had created around us. "Don't cry. Shhh, shhhh. It's okay, dear. You're upset. This is upsetting, I understand that. But we will preserver, overcome, and together? We will get through this."

We? There was no 'WE'. N-Not anymore. Not after THIS.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, Mischief." He breathes out, like the confession of the truely insane, his voice soft. Yet, somehow? Bonechilling in how loud it seemed.

"I get you."

"That's the first thing I demanded, after all! No more idiots. No more dead weight. No insults, fools, or brats I can't break! Ha ha! Just me and my Mischief! Free at last! And all it cost me? Was my chains. Best of all? All the idiot Fire brat wanted for it all? Was his 'competition' out of the way! Ha ha ha! Gods bless, usefull fools!"

He stood before me now. Head thrown back, hand over his eyes in disbelief, as he laughed and laughed. Unhinged with his euphoria. With the machinations, that had lead to his victory. And... and I could not recognize him. This... this monster wearing the face of my best friend. I felt numb. Cold and far away. I... I just... I wanted to go away... please, God. Far, far away.

Stop it. Please, Alphard... Stop it...

P-please...

My shadows curled around me. Battered, torn, but ever loyal. They would not leave me. Not even now. Not even to save themselves. Weakly hissing. Thrashing, trying, in their own small ways, to appear bigger and stronger threats then they were. In... in the vain hope that... that the thing that was hurting us? Might believe them.

Might leave me alone.

I had never felt so unsafe, surrounded by the shadows sworn to my once friend. How many times? How many times? Had I fed and played with these very Magics? Snuck them charcoal? Interesting toys to burn? Creatures of fire and shadow. Massive and rumbling, the very Shadows that once played with my own... now tore them apart.

It burned. Hurt. Who...? WHO was this man? This monster? That wore my best friends face? I couldn't... I can't... please! God, please! Don't make me do this anymore...

My mind, somewhere between delirious and screaming, for some god forsaken reason? Reminded me of the Quite Game. I... I wondered, terrified and full of grief, if the children would know to run. Not to wait, for parents that... that would not be coming. Not this time. Not ever again. All because of this man.

The smoke on the breeze terrified me. Everything terrified me. How? How could I possibly hold so much fear? How could there possibly be MORE? Just as I think I can not feel it anymore deeply. Once again, Alphard teaches me I am wrong. This... this is not how he, is... is supposed to be... how WE are...!

"Oh sweetheart, mischief, darling..." He again attempted to sooth, hand slipping away from his face as he rolled his head down to peer at me. Kneeling with almost boneless fluidity. "None of that. No more tears. Alphy's here, okay? I know change is scary. And you're upset and confused. But Alphy loves you just like always, and nothings gonna happen to you, alright?"

"Remember how you wanted to travel before? See those festivals? Go abroad? We get to do that now! Alphy can take CARE of you, now. Properly. Get you all the things you deserve. It'll be great, Mischief. No more stress or tears. Cuddles for days. You'll love it, I promise."

From beneath his feet, spreading like a terrible rot, black fire spread. It didn't touch me. Couldn't, as it seemed to reach, with greedy hands, down the halls. Consuming the only home I'd ever known in this life. Consuming everyone it touched, if the distant sounds of panic, were any indication. He was killing them all. Friend, foe, what difference was there?

Everything burned.

Numb, I could only sit there, before the stranger I thought I'd known.

"Our love story's been a long time coming, sweetness. My perfect, beautiful, Mischief~♡. Once we're free? We'll never look back. Have the happily ever after we deserve. Let the rest of the burn."

"I'm so glad I found you, Mischief. So glad I made you mine. It's going to be beautiful, darling. I promise. You'll thank me."

"Now come here, to Alphy. We're gonna play a game~♡"