#.....i just don't know anymore. i do like writing for it. but knowing the corrupted source of it makes it not fun

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[wereh0gz]

Not feeling great abt some of my creative endeavors rn

[ohnoitstbskyen]

What’s the difference between Ascended, Aspects, Freljordian demigods, Aurelian Sol, and whatever Soraka’s got going on? Are they all just different varieties of League gods?

Hoo boy, okay, so. First of all, Riot have been pretty adamant that there are no gods in Runeterra, every god-like being that exists in that universe is actually a spirit or just a very powerful being of some kind, but definitely no real gods, no matter how much it seems like they are definitely writing these characters to be actual literal gods.

I don't 100% know why they are so insistent on this, but I imagine it has something to do with censorship and ratings agencies, or maybe they just don't want to have to establish any actual theology on Runeterra. Volibear isn't the god of storms for real, he's just a super powerful spirit that can create storms in the Freljord, but not all of them, so please don't ask us whether every single thunderstorm in the Freljord was something he did deliberately. That sort of vibe.

To go through them point by point:

Celestials & Aspects

The Celestials are beings like Aurelion Sol and Bard, which exist as cosmic entities operating on levels of power and motivation beyond human understanding. They came into existence with the universe itself, and tend to busy themselves governing various parts of its operation. They are, again not gods (Riot is very insistent on this), but Aurelion Sol literally made every star in the galaxy, he's functionally the progenitor god of Creation.

Some of them, though, like to interfere in the mortal world of Runetera in various ways, and they tend to use mortal vessels to do it. That's where we get Aspects: Aspects are mortals who are chosen by the Celestials that live on Mount Targon to contain their power and be their avatars in the mortal world.

Leona is the Aspect of a Sun celestial, Diana of the Moon celestial, Pantheon is the Aspect of War (or he was, until Aatrox killed it, but he retains access to many of its powers), and Zoe is the Aspect of Twilight, and so on.

Soraka is another Celestial in mortal form, but she is NOT an Ascended. Rather than possess a mortal, she created a mortal body for herself and poured the whole of her being into it, which is causing her body to permanently burn up from the inside while she regenerates it with her magic. She lives on Runeterra and acts as a mysterious mystical wise guide and mentor to mortals who need it.

Ascended & Darkin

Ascended are somewhat similar in kind to the Aspects, but usually lesser in power. The Ascended are also human beings infused with Celestial magic and power, specifically with the power of the Sun, although as far as I know, that power is drawn not from the Celestial of the Sun who empowers Leona, but directly from the physical Sun itself. This means the Ascended aren't possessed by Celestials and retain full free will, at the cost (or let's be real: benefit) of being transformed into furries, which extremely coincidentally just so happen to closely resemble the gods of the Egyptian pantheon. but again, they are definitely not gods, please don't put it in the newspaper that they are gods.

I don't know exactly how canon Riot considers this anymore, but the lore was that the Aspects of Mount Targon gifted the power of Ascension to Shurima in order to produce Ascended that could serve as shock-troops in the war against the Void, which is a swarm of extradimensional horrors that are constantly trying to eat the world. Whatever the case, the Ascended DID fight the Void, and it traumatized and corrupted them so badly that they degenerated into body-horror blood monsters called the Darkin.

The Darkin fell into civil war and it got so bad that The Aspect of Twilight (not Zoe but her predecessor in the role) decided to use some magical trickery to imprison them all in their weapons, which is where they've stayed for a few thousand years, getting even more traumatized and mentally destabilized by the total sensory deprivation and solitary confinement. If any mortal touches a Darkin weapon, it immediately assimilates them and uses their flesh as a new host, and then goes on a killing rampage about it. That's where you get your Aatrox, your Varus and (eventually, once he devours Kayn) your Rhaast.

Gods, Spirits & Demons

This is the category for Ornn, Anivia, Volibear, The Seal Sister and so on. The Freljordian people worship them as gods, but they are, technically, only extremely powerful nature spirits, manifestations of the nature of the Freljord itself, which draw power from the land and to a lesser extent from their worshipers. There are many, many lesser nature spirits, which might be worshiped as gods by particular tribes or hold power over particular areas, but Ornn, Anivia, Volibear, The Seal Sister and the Iron Boar are the most powerful and most widely revered.

On a similar note, Ionia is absolutely choked to the gills with spirits, because those lands are soaked in magic. They are usually not worshiped as gods specifically, but take the shape of everything from dragons to living trees to sprites and will-o-wisps and which roam fairly freely in Ionia. This includes characters like Lillia, who is the daughter of a magical tree of dreams on whose branches the dreams of mortals grow and mature, and it includes Ivern, who is an extremely powerful and ancient nature spirit formed from the soul of a magical tree.

Demons are distinct from spirits, in that rather than drawing on the power of the land or fountains of magic, they draw on the emotions of living things for their powers. The most powerful demons are known as The Ten, who get their power from the most primal emotions that living things feel. Fiddlesticks is the demon of Fear, and Nilah somehow draws her strength from Ashlesh, the Demon of Joy, whom her order has imprisoned. We don't know who the rest of the Ten are yet, but Riot seems to have that worked out somewhere in their internal deep lore.

Swain has a lesser (but still powerful) demon of secrets called Raum bound in his arm through some sort of deal, Evelynn is a demon of anguish and pain, Tahm Kench is a demon of addiction, and Nocturne is a demon of nightmares.

Besides those, there are an untold number of lesser demons, who feed on more and more specific feelings, and thus are less and less powerful because there's simply less of that stuff around to feed on. They are often called Azakana, and may be demons that feed on feelings as niche as, like, noblemen's fear of their extramarital affairs with handsome commoners being discovered. Yone hunts the Azakana and collects their mask, although even he doesn't know quite what for.

Death

This is where we place the Kindred. Technically they are merely Spirits of Death, but more than perhaps any other category of creature, Riot keeps writing them as Literal Gods of death and I don't think it makes sense to think of them any other way.

The Kindred take on many different shapes all across Runeterra, seemingly influenced in large part by the expectations of the people or creatures who are dying, but their most popular visage is that of a Lamb and a Wolf, hunting together. Lamb's merciful arrow ends your life if you accept that your time is up and go gently into that good night, but Wolf hunts you down and rips you to shreds if you resist and fight to your last breath, destiny be damned.

The Kindred are there for every death on Runeterra, they are the mediators (as far as we know) of all forms of death everywhere, and by far the most classically "anthropomorphic embodiment of universal existence" style god in the lore that we know of. Where a god like Anivia only really has power in the Freljord, the Kindred have power everywhere there is life. Only the undead escape them, and even then, only temporarily.

In Conclusion

YES Runeterra has tons of gods, it obviously has gods, you can't walk five feet in that universe without tripping on a god, but they tend to be gods with hard limitations on their power and influence, and rarely have powers on the level of bending reality itself.

Even Aurelion Sol, who literally makes stars, can't snap his fingers and undo causality, for example, or suspend the laws of physics wholesale.

Riot's weird insistence on "no gods in Runeterra" is more of an affectation, a bit of a put-on, than an actual narrative principle, and most of the gods of Runeterra can be understood very comfortably through the lens of various non-Christian religions like Norse or Greek mythology, or the hero/god characters of something like Polynesian myth.

[gothic-thoughts]

Hello! 👋🏾 Your knight!Ghost and Princess!reader was so fun to read｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

If you feel like it, Could you do a continuation? Like where ghost escorts her through the village because she kept complaining about it( and maybe they do something semi-public, like in the carriage or any alleyway)

Or maybe something risky in the palace, or just furthering their escapades in her bedroomJust some ideas!

I write too, so I get if you're not inspired by this or if you are and it takes a while lol

just hope it sparked some ideas(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

All of them did thx sm 🙏🏾💙💙 I made this story a lot deeper than it was 😅😅 long story incoming

Part 1 is right here, but it's not required to read this tho

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The Truth

Ghost Riley x Black Fem Reader Angsty Smut

MDNI, Virgin!Reader, Princess!Reader, Black Knight!Ghost

CW: a lil angsty corruption kink??, semi-public smashing (castle library), afab parts, talking through it, fingering, riding

Word Count: 2525 (give or take)

Even after Ghost touched her in the bathtub, the Princess was still hellbent on seeing the fountain near the village entrance or the village in general, and not just from her balcony. The Black Knight wasn’t verbally rejecting her request anymore, opting to stand there with folded arms and cold eyes.

"What the hell is so special about that damn fountain, anyway?"

“I don't know! I’ve seen people throw coins into it after making a wish and I have to try it! It’s unfair!”

"What’s unfair is you being so hellbent on getting yourself killed. Are you in denial at how dangerous your town is?”

“Ugh, now you sound like my father; it's our village, why would my people want to hurt me?”

He raised his eyebrows as his eyes widened.

"You...think... the people in this village actually care about you?"

“Um, of course they do.” She laughs, backing up, “Did you forget I’m the princess? They may not know me to love me, but they surely care.”

"Oh they care alright— they care how easy you’ll be to rob... or worse.”

“Oh please, Simon, that’s a bit dramatic.”

“The moment you walk out there unprotected, they'd rip you apart. Just be thankful you haven’t been caught by anyone out there when you sneak out."

“I don't believe that...”

"You don't believe it?"

“No.”

“Jesus, your father’s a worse King than I thought. Makes sense he’s an even worse father.”

“Hey! He may be a pain, but watch your tongue.”

“I’ll watch my tongue when he goes back in time and tells his daughter what people do when they’re desperate, especially the people in this town. Because I can tell you holding people for ransom, robbing and even killing is never off the table— they might even do it for fun.”

“Simon, stop!”

He laughs, “You know what, I’ll teach you myself. Maybe there’s a book in the library on betrayal and human nature.”

“You mean any book in there that I somehow haven't read a thousand times?”

“Let’s go, it'll give you something to do besides complain and piss me off all night."

Ghost steps out of the way to reveal the door across her room, gesturing for her to take the lead, allowing (Y/n) to lead. Once in the library, the Princess walked through the biology books, calling out everyone that she’d read already— and she was right, it was most if not all. They then moved to the history book aisle, her fingers skimming past all the books' spines while her guard followed close behind silently, watching.

“Find anything yet?”

She groans, turning to face him. “Of course not, maybe because I read all these already! Ugh, besides some of them are missing.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean missing?”

“These books have been lost for forever, I think.”

“And nobody has tried to look for them?"

“I don't know, my father told me they went missing around the time he became King.”

“Around? Lost? What could've possibly happened to these books for them to just disappear?"

“I don't know, perhaps they were lost in the move...”

He almost laughs, "Lost in the move?"

“Don’t laugh! He’s not of royal blood, he was elected in by the old King before he passed!”

“Oh, I know; the biggest news in the land was when a common blacksmith took his place.”

“Simon—” 

“But you’ve never seen a bookstore, so you wouldn’t know that most books don’t look like...” He gestures to the golden spines on the shelves, “...This. So a common blacksmith couldn’t have bought them.” 

“I... I-I don’t know! I never really noticed or thought about until now... I was too young and they’re just books so I never asked again...”

"Good, you're learning.”

“Why would he hide books...?”

Ghost crossed his arms, giving (Y/n) a look as if it were a rhetorical question.

"Do you really have to ask? There is a reason he keeps you in this castle, isolated and dumb like this."

She blinks, “...Because I'm young...?”

“Because your father knows what those villagers are capable of."

“But all the times I snuck out, the few people I met were nice... They had to have known, the only thing I don't wear is my jewelry.”

"Why’s that?”

“In case something falls off while I'm sneaking out and leaves evidence to my routes...”

He chuckled, "You may be craftier than I initially thought."

“I'm naïve, not stupid.”

The Princess starts to walk to the bookkeeper’s desk to see if the books are over there, impressing Ghost with her newfound determination. She climbs over the desk and crouches under to look for the books and to her surprise, there is a stack of missing books sitting right where the bookkeeper would be standing. She gasps and grabs them, standing back up to place the 10 books on the desk for Ghost to see while she reads off the titles.

“So, she...” (Y/n) trails off, “The bookkeeper knew about this too...”

"Do you trust her?”

“I trust all the staff... at least I did.” The Princess gasps, “That's why he hired you to watch me— cuz a Black Knight wouldn't be as lenient with me as a palace guard.”

He smiled and uncrossed his arms. "You're catching on, Princess. Well done."

“Should I read them...? I feel like it maybe too much information, especially in one night.”

“I could give you a summary of what might be in those books.”

“What, then tell me!”

"Do you really want to hear my thoughts, Princess?”

“Yes, all of them, everything.” 

“You aren't going to like it.”

“That’s probably why it was hidden from me, isn’t it?”

The Princess carefully jumps back over the desk and adjusts her nightgown before walking over to the lounging area of the library, causing a sly smirk to slowly form on his lips somewhat amused by her eagerness. She sat on the couch closest to the fireplace while Ghost stood in front of the couch opposite of her, silently gathering his thoughts before walking closer to (Y/n)’s sitting form.

"Your people are not kind." His boots thumped as he walked closer, “You're smart to sneak out at night because not only will the guards bring you back, but your townspeople are some of the most aggressive, opportunistic people I've ever encountered."

(Y/n)’s smile fades, eyes widening as they search his eyes for any sign of a joke.

"Maybe it was the King before your father or the one before that, but your father has yet to try to do anything about it.”

“Well, he—” 

“And he won't." He knelt before the couch and looked her straight in the eyes, "And you know how I know?"

She swallows thickly, shaking her head. Ghost leans closer, his hands gripping the arm of the couch as he leans forward.

"Because in the time he became king to right this second, he had a goddamn daughter that's now 20 years old.”

Her jaw dropped with a sharp inhale. Her eyes slowly drifted to the floor where he was crouching, heart panging as a sick feeling of guilt bubbled in the pit of her stomach.

“He had over 2 decades to do something about the people in this town— but didn't. And now here you are, sitting in this palace not knowing a goddamn thing about the place you're meant to rule.”

“He wouldn’t, he’s just... He....”

“Now, I don't blame you, how could I? You're the only one who's in the dark about all this because he doesn't want his ‘precious daughter’ hurt.”

“See? He cares... about me at least...” 

“And I don’t doubt he was going to keep this from you until you became Queen to make it your burden."

“What, no... My father—”

“Planned on teaching you nothing before shoving you into your new position? That's why I hate him-- that's why I could give a damn about consequences, ‘cuz there are none. Not even for touching his daughter in her bathtub."

(Y/n) gasps, looking back up with wide eyes and a burning face, the sight forcing an amused smirk to appear under the Black Knight’s mask.

"Oh don't look so horrified.” He rested his hand on her thigh, caressing the inside just like he did in the bath, “Remember, you tried to seduce me first."

Her thighs tremble, closing under the blue silk of the sleeping gown, “Then you already got your revenge; you don't have to taunt like this.”

"I'm not taunting you, Princess. Merely telling you all my thoughts, just like you asked. And I do so enjoy how easy it is to get a rise out of you.”

He continued to rub his hand along her inner thigh, a sly smile under that skull mask of his.

She scoffs, “But when I do so, it's wrong...”

"You need to be careful how you go about things, Princess.”

“Oh is that so?”

“Yes. For example, your method of 'accidentally' forgetting your towel is a very subtle tactic and if I was one of your stupid palace guards, I would've fallen for it. But mine...” He suddenly gripped her thigh firmly and separated it from the other, making her gasp, “Is much more direct.”

“Then.... You should teach me more...”

He chuckled softly and shook his head, his hand started to slowly slide further up her thigh, “And what makes you think I'd be willing to teach you a goddamn thing like this?”

“Because you're the only one that's taught me anything.”

He paused for a second to think. 

"Put your legs on my shoulders and lean back."

“R-Right now?”

“No time like present. Especially, we’re less likely to get found.”

Looking down at him, the Princess slowly leans back on the couch and places the soles of her feet on him, the chill of his armored shoulders making her shiver. He smiled under his mask as his hand slipped under her gown to trace small circles on the inside of her thighs. He slowly lifted the silk over his head and pulled her hips closer to the edge of the couch cushions until he was sure she couldn't see his face before finally tugging his mask under his chin. She gasps when he tugs her underwear to the side before gripping the armrest of the couch at the feeling of his warm, plump lips wrapping around her tiny bud.

Ghost’s tongue gently caresses sensitive clit in circles in a way her fingers have never done. She looked down at her dress where his head was with a slack jaw in shock at his ability to make her feel this good already. His fingers were one thing but this was another. Every lick and swirl of his tongue was another whine or squirm from her, causing Ghost to grip her thighs even firmer.

“O-Oh my gods... How are you...?”

“Hush... Shh...” His voice was muffled, his mouth refusing to stop, “Just feel...”

“But it’s too good... I don’t know what to do...”

She could feel her smirk against her folds before sucking harder until her legs tremble as they try to close around his head. Try. He closes his eyes as he angles her hips upward to be able to push his tongue inside, slurping and flicking her insides with soft grunts from under her sleeping gown. (Y/n)’s hips buck and stutter until she finally cums with a yelp of his name.

He retracts his tongue from her and watches her cunt pulse while listening to her pants and gasps from inside the silk. He then drags his tongue across her folds one last time, cleaning off her excess slick before pulling his mask back up and standing up to nonchalantly sit next to her quivering body. She pants, turning her head to aim her glassy eyes at him. 

“Wh-what now?”

“Now...” He slowly undoes his belt, “You’re gonna sit on my lap and give yourself some pleasure.”

“But I thought the man was supposed to be on top of the woman.”

Ghost chuckles, “That’s one way of doing it. But I don’t wanna be too rough on you for your first time so I’ll let you take over. So c’mon, you’re wet enough.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widen as his hand reaches into his pants and pulls out his hard cock, letting it stand erect from his pants. She takes a deep breath.

“So that’s why you...”

“Ate you out? Part of the reason; it’s also just a way to get you even more turned on.”

The Princess slowly climbs onto Ghost’s lap and straddles him while holding his shoulders to keep her soaking wet cunt hovered above his tip. His chin was angled up, observing how her nervous gaze looked all around, seemingly worried about his size so the knight softly grabbed her hips to get her attention.

“Oi.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Relax... Remember, you’re in control and I’m right here.”

With that notion, she slowly lowered herself onto him, biting her lip to keep her discomforting groans from echoing in the library. Her fingers dug into the metal of his shoulder armor as her body adjusted to him—  the slick from her earlier orgasm helping like he said it would and more than she thought. Her face contorted in displeasure, her eyes shut tight from every inch but suddenly fly open when his cockhead hits something inside her— something his fingers and tongue hit, but somehow even better. The Black Knight stifles his laugh with a groan.

“You felt that huh?” His voice drops to a whisper, “Hit it again.”

With the guidance of his hands, the Princess lifts and drops herself on his cock, hitting her spot over and over again and understanding what he meant by giving herself some pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut again as she creates her own slow, steady rhythm up and down on his lap, her ass lightly slapping against his thighs with each drop. Ghost groans, making her open her eyes in time to see his head tilt back on the couch with his own eyes shut.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better....” He pants, “Never fucking better, just keep going.”

“Can I go faster?”

“Fuck, please yes.”

Her hands grip his shoulders harder and she bounces faster, whimpering at the way his thick, veiny shaft drags against her walls. His pants come through his mask, making his hands tighten on her hips. The Princess leans forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder to which he pulls her closer, pressing their chests together. His arms wrap around her and his hands hold her ass cheeks to help her bounce faster, their grunts and moans softly echoing off the walls along with the slapping crackling of the fireplace. It wasn’t long before her hips started to grind back and forth on his lap to fight off the growing pressure in her body.

“No, keep going. That’s a good thing.” He murmurs, loving the fluttering clenches around his cock, “A great fuckin’ thing, keep doing that ‘til you’re done.”

“What about—”

“I’m the teacher, all you gotta worry about is keeping that pretty voice down.”

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(a/n): sorry its so late loves, I got a cold and then a job lmao🤣😂

[facefullofsadness]

I'm gonna combine all 3 of these bc they're all kinda the same, hope u anons enjoy!

content - sub!yunjin x dom!reader, smut (phew let's see, cunnilingus, edging, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, some corruption kink, some g!p reader)

wc - 970

a/n - the first anon is real, never escaping writing huh yunjin! am I complaining though? nope! love my rockstar tall hot perfect gf! lemme write her as a literal sub this time LOL

okay so sub yunjin.

I stand by the whole auditory thing, she loves sound. so not only does she love hearing your moans, her moans, the lewd sounds coming from her cunt, any of the above, but also dirty talk. you love to rile her on by whispering naughty things in her ear and watching her body stiffen.

she's not sensitive and loves foreplay. 70 percent of having sex with yunjin is foreplay, her relishing in the feeling of your skin touching her's and the pleasure gradually building the more you proceed. this way, when you get down to actually fucking her, her body is so incredibly responsive.

dropping to your knees to push her skirt up and panties to the side, sliding your tongue against her slit and filling your mouth with her slick, yunjin moaning out into the hot air surrounding you two. her thighs tremble on either side of your head and her hand threads through your hair, the other hand holding her skirt up to let you do your thing.

loud, responsive, and needy. yunjin whimpers with every swipe of the wet muscle trailing her clenching hole, hips jerking with every brush of your tongue against her clit, and whining your name like it's the only thing she can coherently remember in her brain clouded with lust. pleas for more leak from her lips when you tease her because oh my god is it amusing to see her so ruined by your touch.

and the joy it brings you to see her cry out for you when you deny her another orgasm, her body thrashing and tears welling at her eyes because you're so mean :( needs to cum so badly but you won't let her because "baby, I'm so sorry but you don't deserve it yet."

"I've been such a good girl though, please please god please let me cum. I-I can't take it anymore...!"

you bring your hand to cup her cheek and use your thumb to wipe her tears, cooing as she rubs her thighs together to suppress the orgasm, "you know I can't cum if you don't do it."

"I know my love, just hang in there," you shoot her a warm smile to comfort her as you plunge three long fingers into her pussy, making her scream out and tears trail down her cheeks.

forcing her legs open and smacking her ass if she dare close them. mumbling absolute nonsense as her hole sucks your fingers in more and more with each pump, her eyes rolled back and hands clutching the bedsheets. you'd keep aggressively fingering her until she'd squirt all over your hand, arm, and the sheets, continuing till she's completely overstimulated and forcing another orgasm out of her, giving her all the climaxes she had been begging for minutes prior.

alternatively in a g!p reader world, you'd pull out your fingers, denying her another orgasm and forcing a sob to escape her throat. you pull back from her and hover over her shaking body, tears staining her cheeks, hair absolutely tousled, hands clenching at your shoulders enough to hurt.

"wanna cum baby? need it? tell me, tell me how badly you want me to fuck you until you cum."

yunjin cries, pulling you in to bury her face into your neck and beg, "y/n-ie please! it hurts so bad! fuck me! ruin me until I fall apart, please please... use your fingers, bury your tongue in me, fill my pussy with your cock, just please!! it's aching!!"

your eyes darken and lip slides into a smirk as she trembles under you, begging to be fucked senselessly, it would be a shame if you didn't listen to her! and so you did!

kissing her tear-stained cheek and whispering a reassuring okay into her ear before pulling back and resting the tip of your cock against her entrance, swiping up and down to collect enough of her wetness.

looking yunjin in her watery and pleading eyes before slamming yourself into her, a scream ripping from her mouth. her moans deafeningly loud with every intense thrust of your hips into her soaking hole. you pant into her ear and she grips onto you for dear life. her cunt clenches onto your throbbing member and it's difficult to move with every stroke, but you power through because she feels so fucking good, taking everything you give her so well.

she blabbers incoherently and murmurs continuous thank you's as you ram into her with no mercy, your pace impossibly fast. the sheer amount of slick and spit on and in her pussy makes everything so easy and pleasurable that you can't help but to feel like exploding soon. you hold her legs wide open and push deeper, bottoming out into her and feeling her cervix on your tip, making her throw her head back and your nails sink into her plush thighs.

you continue to rail her, completely pussy drunk and obsessed with how corrupted yunjin looks under you, a shell of the former confident hot girl you knew. nothing but a fuck doll, begging to be ruined by you. rubbing your fingers against her clit and watching as it sends her over the edge, her legs wrapping around your waist, her hands digging into your back, her throat sore with another scream erupting from her throat, her cunt gushing with cum against your pelvis. you cum deep inside of her, spurting out ropes of white liquid into her, filling her to the brim with your seed.

both of your guys' legs shake with pleasure as you fall on top of her borderline lifeless body. she's panting and gasping, trying to grapple onto air as you lick along her neck, tasting her sweat and smirking against her shoulder, her squirming with every action.

a/n - pretty short bc there's no concept behind it, it's more just headcanon/thoughts!!

[mistywaves98]

Something I was just scribbling in my notes but decided to post to make up for my lack of writing these days

¡Warnings!: Super self indulgent, written at 2 am so probably has a bunch of mistakes and descriptions that don't make sense, Scara is super mean here, No proper ending, Pure smut!

Scaramouche had wanted to do this for so long, to finally corrupt your innocent little mind as he reformed your insides with his cock. When your parents announced that they were going to be away for a few days, he jumped at his chance.

The next thing you knew, the side of your face was pushing smushed against the one of the many pillows strewn across your bed. The fluff was stained with your tears, sweat and drool, your cries muffled further by the material with each push of his hand holding you down. Another propped up your hips so he could drill his dick into you from a better angle.

You had no idea how perfect you looked from his view, body limp beneath him as he pounded away at your pussy. A groan resonated in his chest when he felt you clench around him again, signaling the approaching of your nth orgasm of the night. His other hand reached down to play with your swollen clit, rolling and pinching the sensitive bud between his nimble fingers, relishing the way your hips bucked into his hand subconsciously.

You knew you were about to cum too, and dread filled your mind. You genuinely felt like you couldn't handle another orgasm, and you attempted to make it known, "Please Scara—! Hnn.. N-no more! 'S too.. Ahhn...! Too much!" Scaramouche only chuckled at your whiny pleas, purposely increasing his pace just to spite you. He was determined to make you fall apart on his cock, over and over again if he could. Because you looked so fucking beautiful everytime you did.

A partly concealed scream fell from your mouth as your climax hit you like a truck. Your juices creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he kept up his pace. His eyes narrowed as tears fell from your eyes, replacing the ones that already dried from before. Scaramouche couldn't resist leaning down, his bare chest flush against your sweaty back as his tongue darted out to lick a wet stripe up the side of your face. He swore his cock got harder as he tasted the salty liquid on his tongue and his fingers dug into your delicate hips some more,"You taste so fucking delicious. Go on, cry some more f'me, baby. Never seen someone who looked as pretty as you when they cry.."

You might pass out if you were to endure much more of this. Your teary eyes desperately searched for something to ground yourself with and they fell on your favourite teddy bear that you slept with every night. It's beady eyes stared right back at you and you felt sorry that it had to witness you in such an unbecoming state. Scaramouche didn't even let you turn the faces of your stuffed animals to the wall when he made his intentions clear. Your hand desperately reached out to the toy and you clutched it as close as you could, attempting to find comfort within your inanimate companion.

Such luxury was only momentary when you realized your grasp was empty once more and your teddy was lying pitifully on the floor next to your bed. Your cry was followed by a sadistic laugh of his own as Scaramouche moved the hand that was holding your head down to grasp your cheeks, squeezing in a way that puckered your lips as he craned your neck painfully in his direction. "Oh, you're too adorable! Trying to distract yourself with a stupid bear? I have a better idea, why don't you take what I fucking give you like a big girl, hm? You're not five anymore, you know." His words were full of condescension and mockery, clearly intended to make you miserable.

Sobs mixed with pathetic whimpers keened from your sore throat as you were cruelly reminded of his dick splitting your walls apart. Your hands found purchase within your pillow instead as you desperately wished this would be over soon. Scaramouche watched your dainty form with a smirk on his face. Your incoherent babbling was cute, as was the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the undeniable pleasure he was forcing on you.

Oh, how Scaramouche delighted in seeing you become nothing but a dumbed down doll used for nothing but his pleasure. Don't get him wrong, he loves you, but he loves breaking you more. He makes a mental note in his mind to do this more often.

[hussyknee]

THE LEFTIST THIRD PARTY HAS WON SRI LANKA'S PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION.

WE HAVE A PRO-LGBT, PRO-UNION, ANTI-ETHNOFASCIST, ANTI-IMPERIALIST PRESIDENT. MY ANTHROPOLOGY PROFESSOR IS GOING TO BE PRIME MINISTER. A COMPETENT ACADEMIC WHO HAS WORKED ON FEMINIST INITIATIVES AND RESEARCH ALL HER CAREER.

please please please please god don't let them fuck this up don't let them turn into a bunch of cunts to retain their new voter base don't let them fuck up the economy don't let them let the minorities down please please please they won't ever get another chance if they ruin this one we'll be stuck with more idiot corrupt nepo babies till we die please please please PLEASE LET THIS BE THE END OF THE EXECUTIVE PRESIDENCY AND PREVENTION OF TERRORISM ACT AND PERSECUTING THE NORTH please please please let them decriminalize being gay and not bury LGBT rights please please please let there be a god I can't take anymore of this shitshow please please please don't let hope be something that keeps pissing in our faces please please please please please please please

ANURA KUMARA DISSANAYAKE WILL BE THE NINTH PRESIDENT OF SRI LANKA. TAKE THAT YOU TWO PARTY VOTING MOTHERFUCKERS.

Edit:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN FUCKING COLOMBO WENT TO THE IDIOT NEPO BABY???

AKD HAD 52%!!!!! HE WAS ALL BUT SWORN IN?????

THEY HAVE TO COUNT THE SECOND PREFERENTIAL VOTE FOR ONLY THE SECOND TIME IN HISTORY??

There is a very real chance that nobody will get over 50% of the vote. That would be really, really bad.

Fuck.

I HATE YOU MOTHERFUCKING URBAN MIDDLE CLASS LIBERAL CUNTS SO MUCH. PLAGUE ON THE WHOLE DAMN COUNTRY. FUCK YOU.

Edit 2:

Ok so first counting gets AKD 42% and SP 32%. It's very likely the preferentional vote will put him over the 50% line.

It's so poetic that Ranil's greed for power ended up handing the country to the very Marxists that his uncle hunted like animals. You love to see it. 🥰

Edit 3:

So the preferential vote didn't give anyone a 50% majority and we're still at AKD 42% and SP 32%. But apparently that's enough to declare AKD President as per the Constitution. I don't think that's ever happened before. He was sworn in an hour ago.

Point of clarification: The NPP are not Marxists. Foreign news is just uncritically regurgitating the pro-government Red Scare propaganda. AKD and his JVP party used to be Marxists back in the '80s and '90s. They're now more very pro-union socialist. The NPP is their coalition, which is even more mildly social democrat and just happens to be a little more left than the other two. Calling them a Marxist is like how MAGA thinks the Dems are commies. 😂

I truly don't have great hopes that much will change, but there's a chance one or two important things might. Which is more than we've been able to hope for in decades.

See this post for a run down of the what's really been happening.

Edit 4:

I retract the "openly bisexual" part with many apologies. I completely misremembered. It wasn't AKD but JVP senior K. D. Lalkantha, who said in a 2018 interview is that he has also had same sex encounters with his friends as a boy and young man, and that he knows others who have had as well. And he specifically said he doesn't see the need to maintain a label for his sexuality. Still, the fact that his party allowed this in a country that still criminalises homosexuality, to a Sinhalese magazine, speaks to a commitment to LGBT rights. He also explicitly stated his support for women's rights, trans rights, polyamory, open relationships, explicit sexuality in media. It's impressively progressive for this country. The interview is in Sinhala and you can read it here.

Here's an excellent write-up of AKD's career, political outlook and creation of NPP in The Hindu by correspondent Meena Srinivasan, a journalist whose reporting I've always liked.

[nanaminsmoon]

Good morning!!!! I love your blog so much!!!!💗🫶🏾 Your writing is amazing???

Baby daddy Choso????

thank you so much!!! but thanks for requesting this fren bc i love this so much🤭

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving), choking (f+m receiving), spit kink, choso calls reader; 'baby' and 'baby girl', this man is a masochist lowkey, yeah this is a lil nasty

wc: 3858

your twins loved their dad; excited feet would scamper their way to your bedroom, three hours earlier than usual, every friday because they knew it’d be the day they’d see him. and you guys had a routine: you got them ready in the morning, took them to school, then choso’d pick them up, and they'd be his for the weekend.

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

and, during those 48 hours, there was no beach far enough, nor park busy enough, for choso because he would take his girls wherever they wanted to go. every week, pinkie promises to not tell you about staying up later than rules would allow were made between the trio. then, come sunday morning, the girls would be impatiently jumping into your arms, as soon as you opened your door—usually with some playful change in their appearances. yet this particular one would cause your forehead to crease in confusion,

”what's on my daughter's face?”, you’d ask, once the girls were of earshot. immediately, choso knew what you were talking about but he’d play dumb just to irk you.

”eyes, eyelashes, eyebro—”, he’d start listing, and you’d interrupt him.

”no, dickhead, the thing over her nose”, you clarified and he’d inwardly rejoice at his success at annoying you.

”oh. she saw my tattoo and said she wanted one, so i just got her a little temporary one”, he’d explain, eyes trained on the twins as he waved back at them while they ran around the house.

”and when she wants it for real?”, you’d poke at his chest, and his hand would rise to hold the spot your fingertip had touched as he faked a pained expression.

”i don't know how reckless you think i am, but i'm not gonna tattoo a six year old”, he’d scoff, but his amusement would fall to flatten quite quickly.

as hard as choso tried to fan the hurt fogging his mind, it just wouldn’t leave him. choso could be denounced for his work over, and over, again and he’d bounce back because he was so confident and sure of his abilities. but jabs at his skills as a father never failed to pinch at his heart. people would spend an hour with him, then start to question his parenting abilities based off the way he looked and his reserved manner. the prickling in his chest didn’t come from insecurity, but from sensitivity to reminders of the same baseless assumption. especially coming from someone he deemed to be the perfect parent,

”why do you keep doing that?”, he’d look at you earnestly, and confusion would force your eyebrows together.

”doing what?”,

”making me out to be this bad influence.”,

”maybe it’s because you run around with cancer sticks behind your ears”, you pulled the cigarette from behind his ear, and shoved it in his pocket.

”aside from that. you treat me like i'm gonna corrupt the girls.”, he paused, ”you treat me the way your parents treated me”, due to his appearance and impassive demeanour, most people around you had opposed your relationship with choso. your friends warned he’d be a terrible father, and your parents mistook how reserved he was for coldness, and arrogance. outwardly, he seemed inattentive, rude, and aloof but choso didn’t care because the most important people in his life understood him. he was his daughters’ best friend, protector, and joint number one on their list of favourite princesses to join their tea parties—the other being you.

no matter how many years passed, you’d always love choso. though you weren’t together anymore, the need to defend him against those who misunderstood him had never dissipated. so to hear that you had become one of the people you had spent almost a decade trying to quieten, lunged your heart into your throat.

”choso, i'm so sorry. i didn't know i was being—”, you’d start to apologise, but you’d be quickly interrupted. penitence sunk all your features in a way choso couldn’t ignore; he knew you had no malintent with your words, and he didn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.

”nah, it's cool.”, he waved you off, ”i get it, but you know me. you know i love them to death and i'd never encourage anything that i knew would hurt them. but anyways, i guess i'll go now, i'll see you on frida—”, he’d been stood in the doorway and, as he began to step backwards to leave, your hands would clasp one of his. he’d be visibly surprised, but his feet would still be ladened to their spot.

”let me make it up to you”, you'd propose, and intrigue would raise choso’s eyebrow.

you’d always known there were benefits to your best friend being your neighbour, and today would be the day you’d reap one of them. after instructing choso to sit and wait on the couch, you’d gather the girls’ stuff and take them next door. you’d come back to choso still sat where you had left him, legs spread and large hand dwarfing his phone. the urge to jump on his dick right then and there was stronger than you would’ve liked, but you’d keep composed. even under his fervent glare as he watched you take your shoes off. there’d be a moment of waiting once your eyes met, then you’d beckon for him to follow you. choso’s curiosity was eating away at him, but if there’s one thing he had learnt during your time together it was that he was not to question your plans. even as he realised you were leading him to your bedroom, he’d just scoff to himself and continue trailing you.

once at the door, you’d open it and hold it for him to go in. and, chuckling, he’d enter the room, chills already running down his spine at the way those four walls boxed him into your scent, and swathed him in it. his back being turned to you allowed choso to shamelessly close his eyes, and take it all in. he’d only be brought back to reality by the clicking of the door lock.

”the fuck are you doing?”, he laughed as he turned around.

”making it up to you, now sit.”, he'd raise his hands in surrender, before he’d sit on the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed as he watched you saunter your way towards him.

one thing led to another, and you went from kissing and licking at choso's bulge through his boxers to having his dick throat deep inside you. during your relationship, head had been one of choso’s favourite things. he’d even claimed that, had your pussy not been so good, he’d like head more than sex. there were never enough words to explain it but, to him, there was nothing that drove him crazier than the sight of your eyelashes batting up at him as you took all of him into your mouth, nose tickling his pelvic bone. and, busy with his tattoo studio, choso didn't have a lot of time to date so he couldn't remember the last time he felt a woman's throat enclose around his tip the way yours did. his toes were damn near gripping at the carpet through his socks, as his fingers dug into the duvet. though their one wish was to be entangled in your tresses, scratching at your scalp when you swallowed around him, choso hadn’t forgotten that the reason you had asked him to drop the girls off two hours later than usual, was because you were getting your hair done. so he'd refrain for an entire two seconds, fingers contracting around nothing, before he'd just ask,

”can i put—fuck—my hands in your h—shit, y/n—hair”. and another low ’shit’ would leave his lips when you'd pull him out of your mouth to show him the lewd mix of your saliva and his precum leaking out your lips.

”’f you fuck it up, then you gotta pay for me to get it redone”, you tilted your head to run his length against you lips, and choso’s hands were on your head immediately.

”yes, ma’am”, he moaned out.

though you had been broken up for five years, the mutual sexual attraction between you two had never dwindled, so you two fucking post-breakup was inevitable. that being said, choso hadn't nutted in you in almost two years and he didn’t want the first time in 24 months to be in your mouth. that’s what his heart wanted, but his body would have other plans. head wasn’t just about the feeling for choso, the man loved a performance. knowing this, you’d pull him out of your mouth to allow a string of spit and precum hang from your lips, letting it land on his length again just so you could use it as lube to stroke him a few more times.

”you can’t do shit like that, y/n, i’ll nu—”, his strained voice tried to explain, but it’d be cut short by more of your antics. one second your lips would be around his balls, then the next they'd be damn near touching his pelvic bone, as you took him into your throat again. he'd raise his hand to place it on your forehead,

”w-wait, y/n i'm gonna—fuckfuckfuckfuck—baby, wait i'm gonna cum”, he'd warn, but you'd just take that as a signal to keep hallowing your cheeks and taking him into your throat. the pleasure delayed his reflexes, so choso wouldn’t be fast enough in pulling his dick from your mouth; most of his nut would be inside it and, as you let his dick slip from your lips, he’d get some on your cheek, chin and nose too. the tip of your middle finger would collect some of it, and put it in your mouth, eyes locked with his as you did so.

”i forgot how fucking nasty you are”, he'd chuckle before flopping backwards to face the ceiling, as he just laid on his back.

choso’s love for head wasn’t limited to just receiving, because one of his life’s finest pleasures resided between your legs.

”i just need to get you ready f’r me, baby”, would be his response when you told him he didn’t need to reciprocate. but the truth was, choso luxuriated in the way you grabbed at his hair and closed your thighs around his head—the near suffocation was the closest to heaven he thought he’d ever get. he loved the way your body didn't know what to do with itself, squirming underneath the cold metal of his tongue, and lip, piercing. yet, nothing could dethrone the way the warmth of your thighs taking away all his air made his dick twitch. he'd enjoy the gratifying discomfort they brought, before he'd force your legs open again,

”you taste so fucking good, baby, i don't know how i went without this for so long”, he'd say when he came back up for a breath. his fingertips would dig into your thighs as he placed your legs on his shoulders. fingertips would soon be substituted for large palms, as choso pushed the flesh together to basically cut off his air supply. it felt sick to admit, but he loved the feeling of you essentially choking him out.

choso hadn't intended on eating you out until you came, but once he’d started, he couldn't stop. he’d lost track of time and then, all of a sudden, the feeling of your nails on his scalp was harsher. and if he wasn’t relishing in the feeling, eyes fluttering shut in enjoyment, he might’ve noticed that you were about cum a lot sooner. but he’d only catch on when your babbles became more coherent,

”chos-so, i'm-m cumming, shit”, you'd say, and when his brain finally processed those words, it'd be too late because he'd have your release all over him.

for a few moments, the only sounds audible in your room were your heavy breathing and the sound of choso licking your arousal off his fingers. the glisten of the inside of your thighs would catch his attention, and he’d move to remove them of their shimmer. the feeling of the metal on your skin would coax a jolt out of you, before you’d be backing away from his mouth to sit up and face him. the man looked depraved; hair a mess, and face shining, as he just smirked at you.

the shirt covering your top half would be off, as well as choso’s shirt and boxers. and, seeing your bare body for the first time in years was having visible effects on choso—he was stunned.

”wow”, he said, in a whisper, reaching to hold you but you’d pushed his shoulder.

”what?”, you giggled, and he just shook his head so as to not make you feel embarrassed.

”no, i just…i forgot how beautiful you are”,

”shut up, bruh”, you'd playfully roll your eyes, before pulling at choso’s arm to switch your positions. his interest would be piqued yet again, and you'd quell it with a sloppy kiss to his lips. you’d mount choso to sit at the bottom of his abdomen, and his hands landed on your hips. they'd help you ride the ridges of his toned stomach, taking note of how you moaned into his mouth as your juices smeared all over his lower torso.

you'd soon shift yourself, sliding down his length and choso wouldn’t be able to see much of it because his eyes rolled to shut once he felt you wrap around him. hands placed on his broad chest, you'd move up and down on him and his tatted fingers would dig into your hips. choso’s pleasure was visceral, and he almost wanted it to stop before he got too attached and refused to let it end as he had many times before. when you and choso fucked, you did so for hours because you were both relentless. yet, as good as this felt, choso was ashamed to admit that something was missing.

”this is all for me, right?”, he'd ask breathily, hands stilling you. it’d be hard to formulate thought, because you were just paused with his dick deep inside you. but you'd manage a shabby attempt at a nod.

”well, can you…”, choso’d pause, eyes wandering around the bed, and his uncertainty would make you anxious. when it came to sex, you two had always been honest, and open to try anything. so if it made him cautious, then it was one of two things; something he’d been wanting for a while, or something completely left field.

“could you choke me?”, he'd ask, and your once lidded eyes would be widely staring back at him.

”like…?”, you'd raise your hand, and both of his would engulf it, leading it to his neck.

”this.”, he looked you in your eyes, and your hand grew firmer, ”and just keep it there”, he'd instruct, and you'd nod, before starting to move again.

though new to you, you began seeing the appeal of choking choso very quickly. mainly because of the way his eyelids would flutter, as his eyes rolled to shut, just by virtue of feeling your hand on his neck. not to mention the way his hips would move on their own to rut into you, every time your thumb and middle finger tightened around his throat. he may have been larger than you in stature, but choso was completely under your control. both the tightness of your walls, and the feeling of your hand around his neck—sweat making it hard for you to move while maintaining a secure grip on him—was making him delirious. and he never wanted it to stop.

choso's mouth was making any noise it could muster to express how good he was feeling. he went from quietly cursing under his breath, to just shouting cuss words at you. you weren't far from your nut either; due to both the view and the way his dick’s chase for more pleasure, made choso fuck into you harder. the feeling made your thighs weaken but, ultimately, choso would be the first to let go,

”where d’you want it?”, he asked, and your hand would remain on his neck as you leaned down to speak to him.

”nut in me, choso”, you’d whine, lips latching onto his neck to kiss it. the combination of the sultriness of your voice and your lips attacking the most sensitive spot on his neck, would’ve been enough but choso completely lost it when he’d feel a sting as you marked his skin. he'd cum underneath you, hips stuttering upwards to prolong the pleasure he was feeling. all choso could do was cuss, and dig his trimmed fingernails into you before just laying there, a shell of his former self.

you'd be riding him for a few more minutes, before choso’s control of his limbs would return to him, then he’d have you laid underneath him. no further words would be exchanged before he was slamming into you, silver chains dangling in your face and his hand on your throat, as he fucked you with vigor. as amazing as the opposite had felt, choso much preferred this version of things. he preferred looking down at you as your eyes fluttered and rimmed with salty displays of euphoria, he’d even lean down to lick one as it ran down the side of your cheek. choso indulged in the way you'd grab his forearm as strong as you could, sanguine crescents colouring in the empty spaces in his tattoos. he'd lean down to suck on your nipples, nipping at them just so he could hear the raising in pitch your moans and whines would do when that sensation coursed through you. his eyes would flicker down to the white froth collecting at the base of his dick, as his nut was pushed out of you with his every thrust.

”you're doing this all for me, right?”, he'd ask, and you'd nod, ”this fucked out all for me. taking this dick so good just for me”, he'd say, lips once again around your nipples.

choso wasn't letting up; his pace was merciless, as he fucked you dumb. most times you had fucked, choso would slow down, or pull out, when that familiar constriction of your walls told him you were close. he'd do it until you were crying and begging underneath him, voice growing excrutiatingly hoarse. but, seeing as you already had tears in your eyes, he'd only do it once before he'd just maintain a harsh rhythm as you came around him.

”choso, fffuck”, you cried out, but he'd just keep going. his eyes were so focused on the silhouette of his dick moving in and out of you, as your stomach contracted, that he'd lost all sight of where he was. you could've told choso he was jupiter and the man would've believed you. he couldn't even remember why you guys had started fucking in the first place, all he knew was that he didn't want to stop. to choso, thinking about anything that wasn’t you was a waste of brain power. so he'd turn his brain off and let his body do whatever it wanted to. even if it meant overstimulation for the both of you.

your third nut would be pretty imminent, seeing as choso literally would not stop moving inside of you. but it'd be unlike the others,

”choso, g-gimme a s-second”, you'd say, and he'd shake his head because he knew what you were doing. choso knew your body, and he knew it well; he knew what you were trying to prevent well enough to know that it was the very thing he was striving for,

”you said you doing all this for me, baby.”, he'd remind you, ”’nd i wanna see you make a fucking mess on my dick.”, his words would do nothing but edge you closer to your nut.

”can you do that f’r me?”, he’d ask, and you’d nod your head.

”just f’r me?”, he’d ask, voice laboured, ”i don’t deserve you, baby”, he’d pout before moving down to connect your lips.

and, under his instruction, you’d just let that funny little feeling near your bladder do whatever it wanted to. one of your hands would be struggling to wrap around choso’s wrist, while the other would be gripping the sheets for dear life. the hand choso had placed on your neck would remain stagnant, movement only reserved for the other as it moved to your clit. worries about you moving because of how fast, and hard, he was fucking you were nonexistent because the sweat covering your body meant that you were adhered to the fabric underneath you. choso's tatted fingers would rub on your bud until you came on them, practically spraying him with your release.

a low chuckle would leave choso's mouth at the endearing view of you trying to calm your body down. heavy breaths would slither past your lips, but your eyes remained closed. choso’s hand would plant a light slap to your cheek to wake you back up, but it'd be to no avail. so he’d try once more, this time, grabbing your chin to shake your face until your eyes opened.

”say ‘ah’, baby girl”, he'd ask, and you'd open your mouth as wide as your slack jaw would allow. a line of spit would fall from his lips to your tongue before you'd swallow it, and he'd smirk to himself.

”didn’t even have to tell you what to do”, he’d snicker, and you’d smile contently up at him. the woman choso was seeing was so unlike the one he had met so many years ago, and he dreaded to think that the sweet glint in your eyes had bittered because of him. however, that dread would quickly fade and, in its place, would be a knowing smirk,

”shit, maybe i am a bad influence.”

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hey!! I was wondering if you are taking requests.

If you are, then. Couln you please write and Father Aizawa x daughter in which she is like really really depressed and he is sick worried for her?

Thankss 🤍🤍

Hello! thx for requesting! I'm not sure if you wanted a little story like a drabble or headcanons so I'm just going to default to do a mix of both. I also wrote it with clinical depression in mind I hope that's okay.

TW; clinical depression, angsty shit, I wrote about the symptoms of depression here: if you have multiple of these symptoms please consider getting diagnosed by a doctor. Aizawa had depression, fem reader.

Aizawa never was good with emotions, he was never the one to express his feelings because he never exactly needed to. Aizawa wouldn't exactly talk to her at first, instead opting to see it as her having an off day.

however, the weeks flew by and he saw less and less of her around the dorms, her friends who once talked to forever never seemed to see her anymore, and her smile. her smile had now been replaced with dead eyes and a soul corrupt.

another week, when disrupted she would bite back. her usual reply to the question "how are you today?" was once "wonderfully really!" about now it was either a comment overflowing with sarcasm or a harsh "leave me alone."

she then start to bounce her leg a lot more, scratch her arms, and doom-scroll on her phone like a life line rather than train to be a hero like she would during her previous years at UA or read her favorite book genres.

and the dead look in her eyes told him everything.

he too had that look in his eyes in his life too.

he had the tattoo of a semicolon with a heart to show for it.

it was the dead of night when he finally approached her, the sun had set and the stars that night felt as dull as her mind. the blinding white lights of the kitchen remain on as she wept amongst her sorrows. sleep deprived eyes turned redder than they already are from the sting of her never ending tears.

she did not deserve this.

the air was cold in that room, clammy hands shaking didn't help much either.

Aizawa said nothing when he saw the slight before him,

he had done the same at one point too.

this situation was delicate glass, for the person before him was not the strong girl he "knew". this was the soft, misshapen, confused, and scared blob that no longer had the hard and heavy armor to protect her.

he wanted nothing more to hug her when she looked at him with scared eyes and a tear stained cheeks.

"Aizawa Sensei I-" she started, the voice cracks made it all the more pitiful.

"I came to get water." his voice unwavering, there was only room for one mentally unstable person in that tiny kitchen and he loved her too much to take the position of being the one crying.

he felt bad, he knew that feeling of either being empty or being overridden with that burden in your heart you don't know the name of. a constant reminder of doom that has your heart in a choke hold.

but this was still as fragile as anything.

he poured himself a glass of water,

the tension was thick and odd.

he sat down,

he could practically feel the labored breaths she took, the shaking, the empty feeling in her chest. like she was dying and from the inside out. the crying must have taken a toll on her too for her cheeks were red from the tears.

he sat next to her, sitting in front of her may make her feel like he was going to scold her.

"would you like to talk about it?"

"...please... no... I don't think I can..." it was hard to believe this was the voice of the girl he remembered so fondly as his favorite student.

I suppose even the moon has a dark side.

"okay, you need to though." voice steady like a rock you trust never to crumble.

"what?" her voice quivering.

"It know it's hard,

I know it's going to take a while,

but you can succeed,

just please let me help you."

the room went silent for a moment, he passed you the glass of water.

"drink, tomorrow, you are spending your day with Hound Dog, you don't have to talk with him about this specifically, just talk with him until we can understand what is actually happening. you need someone to talk to. you can bail at anytime."

"what is happening to me though? I- I don't know anymore."

he knew that feeling so well.

"I'm not entirely sure," those words came from his heart. "but I'm willing to help you through it. we can take you to a psychiatrist to know for sure."

"...okay."

Aizawa got up, pushing the glass towards you again, excessive crying often leads to dehydration. and he started doing what his mother would do, he started prepping fruits, in this case it was oranges. he lined them all up on a plate, smiling a little at the thought of waking up from a nightmare as a child and defaulting to devouring blueberries.

he put them in front of you, started speaking as a usual person would, about stupid criminals he had recently put behind bars and crazy super fans that created elaborate photo shopped photos of him and them for social media.

for the first time in a while

the phrase

"are you okay?"

wasn't even mentioned.

for the first time in a while

she felt human.

----------

edit: while writing this I noticed I had a lot of the symptoms, so I went to the doctor and turns out it wasn't just burn out it was severe depression! and asthma apparently...

[jesuistrestriste]

bestie okay hear me out. priest mike but like you're the one in control. STAY WITH ME!! like you go to church and flirt with him like crazy, wearing skimpy outfits making him dizzy in the head which eventually leads him to cave into his desires that he holds so dearly, basically begging for for your attention and your touch. idk but the thought of like "corrupting" (idk if that's the right word for it) him in such a filthy slutty way, man in thinking thoughts...(absolutely love your writing btw you're so talented fr!!)

(AHH?? anon?? woah, woah woah. im drooling. im definitely listening.)

i can imagine the reader going to the church in a short jean skirt that just barely covers her ass. and she knows people will judge her, but she doesn't care because all she needs is his attention.

the priest is up on the stage, giving a sermon, staring right at her, and all the reader does is maintain eye contact while she uncrosses her legs and holy shit she's not wearing panties.

he's sweating and burning up and almost stuttering in front of everyone as he pulls on the collar of his dress shirt and tries not to look at her, but he really can't tear his eyes away for more than a few seconds. mind you, he's popping a boner behind the pulpit. thank god for that fuckin' pulpit, pun not intended (sorry, god).

once the service is done, and everyone has flooded out, he quickly walks down to the reader in the pews and immediately gets down on his knees in front of her; his eyes all big and blue with pupils completely blown.

"what are you trying to do to me?" he whispers, desperation and anticipation and embarrassment wavering in his voice as his hands run up over the soft skin of her thighs.

and the reader just smirks, spreads her legs, and urges his face into her heat. "Shhhh," she hums softly, watching him look up to her as his lips and tongue make contain with her slick cunt, "be good for me.. we can ask god for forgiveness after you make me cum..."

and wow, he doesn't resist at all. he laps at her core until shes spilling and spasming in her seat, her leg draped over his shoulder as the broken AC in the church only exacerbates his guilty sweating.

should he stop? yeah. but he can't. and he won't. he wouldn't in a million years. not even if hell itself opened up beneath the floorboards of the holy building they're in and threatened to swallow him up if he didn't stop eating her pussy.

if heaven's doors opened up above right then, a golden staircase beckoning him in, he'd still choose her pretty folds + her hole over any sort of everlasting paradise.

after all, weren't heaven and her the same things?

----

ive honestly been thinking about writing a pt 2 to "kneel" where the reader takes a bit of control? like a tiny bit? i just don't think that the priest!mike faist character i've built up in that fic would necessarily enjoy her doing that LMFAO.

he'd be like "hm. ok. ill do it for u". but when she starts to coo at him or deny him release he's suddenly like >:( this isn't fun anymore.

---

but no, im seriously all about corruption. i think it's insanely hot. so i raise u one more: priest's son!mike...? priest's son!art donaldson..?

mmph

[silv3rswirls]

Fawn

warnings: 18+, age gap(reader is 18), coercion, corruption, praise, humiliation, dirty talk, hair pulling, gaslighting and manipulation, alcoholism, some religious themes/talk, virgin/innocent reader, dark thoughts/fantasies, very vague mentions of familial abuse, shamming, obsession, overall yoongi is a ✨creep✨

Note: sometimes I piss myself off because I've been dying over this fic for days and now I don't even like it much anymore- can I have nothing?😭idk might start writing more smut now??

You were a fawn in headlights when he first saw you in that clearing. Your back had been to him and at first, he had swore and scoffed at you because who hangs around in the woods disturbing his peace? Everyone in this town knew he lurked behind the tree line, drinking himself stupid and doing whatever fucked up activities they rumored him to. Yoongi never minded being the talk of the town. He’d been an outcast since his teenage years. Since he stopped going to church with his family like every other prim family populating the place. They took some fun teenage rebellion and ran with it- he liked to think himself not as messed up as people whispered he was. He’d always thought himself not to be until he met you.

He found you picking berries and flowers, anything that looked pretty out in the forest. You were kneeling trying to choose the perfect dandelion to add to your basket when he stormed over; pissed that someone was in his usual drink until he couldn’t move anymore spot. He liked it because it was a short walk from where he liked to stare at the Sunday churchgoers leaving and freak them out. He could recall seeing you before, always glued to your mother's side wherever you went.

But he stayed away and kept to himself like always. He couldn’t say he had many, if any, friends around here. He’d been on his own since graduating and his family moved away shortly after. He hadn’t been close to them at the time so being left alone was welcomed at first. As for everyone else; if someone didn’t fit in around here they were an outcast without much care and it seemed that no one cared for him.

“What are you doing?” He barked, scowling as he approached you. Bottles clinked in the bag he was loosely holding and his cigarette was at the end of its life. You stood up, stumbling back a bit in shock. Yoongi wasn’t a kind person, so you’d heard, and his appearance didn’t do anything to help. He was scowling, his hair was frazzled from rolling out of bed an hour or so ago. Dressed in darker colors, a sweater and thick coat layered in him. You wanted to laugh over how tired and grumpy he looked, but the nervous swirl in your stomach told you not to.

“I’m just picking flowers” You straightened up, knuckles white as you gripped the basket and your free hand smoothing down your skirt. 

“Well this is my spot” he rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to hear your stupid humming or see that ridiculous frilly dress you were in. Something about it pissed him off, he couldn’t place it exactly, but whatever it was would put a damper on his getting shitfaced in the woods plan for today. Besides, you had just come from Sunday service, he didn’t need any annoying pestering about drinking or sinning, or whatever he was sure you would pester him about.

Your eyes landed in his bag, before flicking up to him a bit wide. “Are you drinking out here?”

“So what if I am?”

He watches you look around, pressing your lips together for a moment. “Could I try?” His brows raised in surprise. interesting outcome of all of this he supposed? “It’s just, I’ve always wanted to.”

“I know your mom, she’s crazy, you know? Where is she?”

“Still at service, she helps plan the food drive” You smiled a bit proud, “It’s next week.”

Yoongi hummed. She was a nutjob, he’d lost track of how many times she’d harassed him in the past month alone. “So while she’s planning to feed the needy you want to drink?” You nodded and he looked around in disbelief. Was this a joke? Was someone going to jump out and condemn him for even entertaining this? 

“Here” he fished out a bottle and held it out to you. He watched you smile, a curious twinkle in your eyes as you carefully set your flowers down and took it. He waited for you to try, there wasn’t anything better to do anyway.

Your sudden shyness poked him the wrong way. He watched you bring it to your lips for a moment before lowering it with a new nervous expression. Second guessing your rebellion? “Come on” he urged, moving to grab your arm and pull you over to him. You stumbled, kicking over your flowers and stepping on them as he dragged you over.

“Hey-” you cringed, the bottle clinking against your teeth as Yoongi held you firm in place and forced the drink into your mouth. “I don’t like it” You managed to get out between the burn of liquor and sputtering as you tried to breathe. You broke away, yoongi dumping the rest of the bottle onto you; dripping it down your hair and face, and soaking your pink cardigan. “Why would you do that?” Your voice wobbled, and your eyes were wet as you looked at him.

“You said you wanted to try, stop being a baby about it.” He rolled his eyes. He watched the heat of embarrassment color your cheeks, big wet streaks stained your face and your hair clumped wet against your skin. “Get out of here now and don’t come back.” 

He watches you grab your things and scurry away, and in the distance, he can hear your mother scolding you from the parking lot. 

“Why does everyone hate Yoongi?”

The already tense air between you and your mother grew thicker on the ride home. She was angry over the smashed flowers you brought her for her centerpieces and even angrier over your now damp and smelly clothing. The fact that you had come running back to the car in tears, crying like a child over Yoongi.  

“Isn’t what he did to you answer enough sweetheart?” She sighed, “He’s never been right, even when he was your age.” She cringed, “Ever since his parents left he’s gotten worse. He’s a creep honey, stay away from him.”

“His parents left him?” You perked up slightly, basically ignoring everything else she said. “Why would they do that? That’s so sad.”

“If he was my child I’d leave him too” She scoffed, “don’t feel sorry for him, he’s everything I’ve ever warned you about. You don’t want to get tied up in all that mess right?” She asked. You didn’t answer.

The second time you ran into Yoongi was in the same stretch of woods. You had nervously ventured out there a few weeks after the last time, unsure if you wanted to run into him or not. Your mother was right about him being scary. You’d never interacted with anyone so harsh before, everyone your mother kept in your circle was kind and caring, just as you were. All women, no men really got close thanks to her. Other than being intrigued about being around him and all the things he did that everyone had drilled into your head were wrong; you felt a bit bad for the older man. You couldn’t imagine being all alone like he was or listening to all the awful things people said about him. He couldn’t be as evil as people wanted you to think, right?

Maybe he just needed a friend?

When he saw you again he smiled in welcoming. After spending a few weeks mulling over what happened and being publicly shouted at for ‘harassing her poor child’, Yoongi had decided he wanted to get closer to you. What better way to stick it to your mom than to mess around with you some more? You were naive enough not to catch on, so what was the harm?

You just talked for a few hours with him. He listened more than opened up. He listened to you talk about what you liked to do, where to find all the best flowers around here, about how you were nervous about the little recital the church was having next month for the Holidays, and how they wanted you to sing in it.

He watched you fiddle with the robbins decorating your hair. Watched you kick your legs back and forth off the rocks you were perched on beside him. Watched how your skirt scrunched and rode up just slightly every time you moved. 

He went home that night feeling a bit odd over the experience. You seemed genuinely glad to have someone new to talk to. He wasn’t sure how he felt, because you looked so cute sitting next to him chatting his ear off. 

He was fucked to put it lightly. You were everything he hated about the people in this town. Stupid and blindly following the herd…but with more of an innocence. All Yoongi knew was that he was down bad and frankly, a little pissed about it. How many whores had he had in the past and how many could he go out and find at this moment? Too many, maybe they were getting boring to him because right now all he could think about was you. He wanted to poke fun at and just piss everyone off at first, but now…now he just wanted corrupt you. Odd, he’d never felt the want to do it before to anyone, but something about you was sticking to him. How could he not with how cute and innocent you acted around him? Your fault really...hadn't your mother already warned you about men like him? He wanted to take you until the innocent air surrounding you was gone until all you could think about is him and how good he fucked your little virgin cunt. How cute you’d be under him. Covering your breasts and trying to hide away from his hungry eyes. Your cute little moans, moans you’d likely never made before. The feeling of you stretching around him for the first time. A little too much to handle, but you’re eager to please him. How wet you’d be, how it’d be such a challenge to bottom out, and how you’d squirm and try to resist the urge to be run over the edge as his hips pressed into yours. Your thighs twitch and try to close, too overwhelmed by the new sensations happening in your body. He’d leave you ruined; never to be the same again.

Yoongi blinked himself out of thought, he was sitting outside of his house having zoned out thinking about it all. 

Well, change of plans he supposed?

Two weeks later snow began to fall and hanging out with you had become routine. Admittedly, it wasn’t that bad. Other than an insatiable want to get you in his bed, he couldn’t say he hated every moment spent hanging around you. It was refreshing not to be by himself all day, he hadn’t had a real friend since early high school, and every day since had pretty much been spent alone. Stuck with a family that refused to speak to him until he admitted his sin and went back to church to grovel for forgiveness; he’d never do that even now. To his surprise you hardly talked about your family or religion; he had part expected you to try and drill it all into him. But you were pretty quiet and liked to laugh at all the ‘silly’ things he did as you liked to put it. You thought the way he slurred words when he was drunk was cute, but wouldn’t touch a drink from him after what happened, not unless he sweet-talked you enough. Sometimes it felt like he could sweet talk you into doing anything he wanted. Sometimes you’d let him put a shot glass to your lips and pour it down, wincing at the burn and getting watery-eyed. Yoongi wasn’t interested in bringing you anything gentle, he liked the hard stuff that could send him over the edge with a few drinks.

“Yoongi?” You asked one night. He was sitting beside you on the park bench, wrapped up in a plethora of jackets and hoodies trying to fight against the bitter air. Obviously, he couldn’t go to your place, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you hanging around his yet. Truth be told he wasn’t sure if he could contain himself seeing you sitting in his bed just talking with that sweet tone of yours. Your eyes looking up at him, wide and fully focused on what he was doing or saying. You’d be wearing one of those silly frilled dresses you liked; he was sure of it. He’d thought about it so many times. How you’d let him get close and run a hand over your thigh, then over your stomach, to your chest. You’d let him kiss you, he knew you would. You liked doing what he said. You were so curious to partake in all the things he liked to do; all the things you weren’t supposed to do. One night he passed you a blunt without thinking much of it, you took it but nearly choked trying to smoke it for the first time. So you settled on letting him blow smoke in your face because he wanted to and you kept lying that you liked the smell of it.

“Yoongi?” You repeated, pulling him out of his daydream. He hummed, “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.” He’d lie if he didn’t want to answer, he lied to you a lot and you never seemed to pick up on it.

“Have you been in love before?”

“No.” He looked over at you again. You were playing with your hands in your lap, your nose was red from the cold and your hair was covered in snowflakes. He was still damp from earlier when you made him do a snow angel alongside you. “Why?”

“I don’t know “your face flushed, “I just wish I knew what it felt like. I’ve never been able to have a boyfriend” you explained, “Mom said I have to wait longer, I think she wants to find someone for me.”

“Well, that’s what good girls are supposed to do, right?” He asked, rolling his head back to look at the street light above and watching the snow flurries cluster around it. 

You were quiet for a moment, “I guess. I don’t know I’ve just been thinking alot lately, questioning some things.”

Yoongi nodded, he could remember when he started to as well. Hearing how everything in your circle talked about Yoongi didn’t sit right. Everyone should love everyone and get along, that is what you had thought everyone preached around you your whole life. Now they spoke about him like trash, ever since he poured the liquor on you. You hardly even cared much after the fact. It had been thrilling in your otherwise mundane life. Everyone thought you were staying clear of him, but you liked hanging out with him. Every evening when your mother left for work you ran to him. And every Sunday morning people still talked about what happened. How Yoongi shouldn’t be allowed to stay around here, how he was nasty and unholy, and how he'd do horrible things to you if you got close again. 

“You want a boyfriend?”

“My mom would kill me if she knew I did.”

Yoongi wet his lips and tugged your jacket until you looked at him. You were pouting, eyes cast down as you thought about it. “Well,” he started waiting for you to look up at him with your little doe eyes met his. “I could be your boyfriend” it rolled off his tongue, music to your ears. “No one will know, we’ll do all the things girlfriends and boyfriends do.” He waited for your reply, “unless you don’t like me?” He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke in such a tone: a soft and nearly whiny one. 

“No, I do!” You blurted out. “I want you to be my boyfriend, please Yoongi?”

He could listen to you say please all night.

“You’re not scared about breaking your mom's rules?” He egged in, “Not very good of you to lie.”

You scooted closer to him, grabbing his hand and pouting. “I-I don’t care about lying to her. Really! I’ve always wanted a boyfriend and I really like you, so why not?”

“Okay” he grinned, “I’ll be your boyfriend baby.” You grinned, genuinely excited. “We should make it official though, give me a kiss?”

You picked at the edges of your sleeves, “Y-yeah…but I’ve never…done that.”

Good, he thought. He wanted to be your first anything and everything. To teach you how to be a good girlfriend for him. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you. Just follow my lead.”

He grabbed your face, encouraging you to get even closer. Your legs pressed against his and he held your waist tight. He could see the shine of your strawberry lip gloss and the pink ribbon in your hair tickled his hand as he held your cheek. You were enthralled, gazing into his eyes like hearts were exploding behind you. He kissed you, trying to start slow and keep the cute boyfriend appearance up, but he was ready to get heated and messy with you. He did- kissed you harder, nibbled your lip, and pressed his tongue into your mouth. You were so meek under him, trying your best to keep up.

Your lipgloss was smeared- most of it left on Yoongi. You made it just-in-time before your mother got home. You scurried upstairs to change and pretend you’ve been in bed all night. You still felt breathless over the kisses. How he held you and how he asked you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t know how it was supposed to go, but you were sure he did it well. He had to. You hurried yourself under the covers. 

You had a boyfriend!

You kissed him!!

You smiled thinking about his hands holding you- how big they felt against your waist and his sting against your cheek. His lips were chapped and a bit cold against yours. He said he liked your lipgloss- the one you begged your mom to let you get just so you could wear it for him. 

“You’ve never touched yourself before?” You weren’t sure how the topic had been brought up, but Yoongi had just become far more interested in your video call after you let your secret slip out. You’d been lying around in bed talking to him for the past few hours. He was at home while you were stuck in bed for the night. Your mom was sick and hadn’t gone to work in a few days. You’d been missing Yoongi so he promised to call you.

“No…we’re not supposed to…my mom always tells me I shouldn’t it’s not pure and good.” You explained. Yoongi rolled his eyes, what a fanatic. 

“I used to think that, my family taught me the same things.” He started, “But I don’t agree. It’s normal, we’re all a little dirty sometimes, right bunny?”

You flushed, you liked it when he called you that. 

“I miss you, I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. I wanna teach you more though, do you want to learn more next time?”

You nodded, slowly as you thought about his words. “You like when I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “Of course I do!”

Yoongi hummed, looking over the nightgown you were wearing. He liked kissing you well enough but he was starting to crave more. It’d been a while since he’d had sex, fantasizing about you while getting off was getting boring. He looked over your crossed legs, a bit upset it was long enough to cover your thighs- he liked them. It was, however, just snug enough to give him a subtle outline of your breasts, your nipples a bit hard grazing the fabric if you moved the right way. “Why’d you stop talking?” You pouted.

“You like my voice?” 

You nodded, “I really like it.”

“Wanna hear me call you pretty some more? How vain of you bunny. That’s a sin” he snickered, “does my voice turn you on?”

“I think so” You grew quieter, taking one headphone out and setting it aside to listen for your mother. 

“Is she still sleeping?”

“I think so.”

“You wanna do something for me, baby?” You nodded eagerly. “Touch yourself for me.” His tone was almost demanding, and needy as he shifted in his seat.

“But I’ve never…I’m not sure.”

“Come on,  try it for me?” Yoongi asked and very slowly you got off of your bed, leaving your phone propped against some pillows as instructed. Yoongi smirked, watching you look around your bedroom and to the door, double-checking the lock and listening for your mother. He was already feeling warm, mouth a bit dry as he looked you up and down. He couldn't help but to slip down his pants and tug at his cock in anticipation. The fact that you were so nervous, anxious that you’d get caught and reprimanded…that cute little nightgown you were wearing. “Just lift your nightgown” he wet his lips, watching you pick at the thin fabric and shyly lift it for him. “That’s it just a little, there you go” he encouraged, eyes glued to your panties. “Not so bad, right?” He smiled, and you let out a nervous, breathy giggle. “Turn around now” he watches you do as told, he hummed “bend over.” He watches you check your door again, a bit hesitant. “Don’t disappoint me now…good girl. Just…” Yoongi ogled over your ass, how the soft white fabric of your panties stretched over it, and how your legs pressed together now and again. “Just touch yourself for me” he finished. You did it for him, snaking a hand between your legs and clumsily playing with yourself. 

“Feels good?” He laughed at the little moans you let out now and again. “Don’t get shy, you’re so cute. Just show off for me baby.”

“You said you wanted to see it” Yoongi bit back a laugh. 

“I know, but…not here.” Your nose scrunched as you took another weary look around the alleyway. “Someone will see.”

“That’s what makes it fun” He grinned. He was feeling himself a little too much after a few drinks in his favorite bar. They wouldn’t ID him, and he knew they wouldn’t ID you. It was across town, too much of a trek for anyone who knew who you were to see. He’d gone through a few beers and some shots with you following him. You didn’t like the beer and refused a second shot, so he rolled his eyes and got you something smoother, fruitier. You were more content sipping on it, kicking your legs off the stool, and begging him to come to see you in the Holiday service on Sunday.

“You want me to come Sunday or not?”

“That’s not fair” you whined. Yoongi shrugged, leaning against the brick wall with his hips jutted out slightly. “Get on your knees for me bunny.” He watched you sink down, complaining when the slosh of rain and snow stained your stockings. “I’ll by you new ones” He assured, watching your brow knit ever so slightly as you fiddled with his belt; loosening it and going for his jeans button. He could feel his throat getting dry, ever since that little show he talked you through a few days ago he had been plagued with thoughts of you nonstop. You pulled his jeans down a bit, looking up at him for reassurance before shyly going for the boxers. He was already hard, it didn't take much from you nowadays. His fingers twitched, he wanted ot grab your hair and go to town, but he tried to take in your wide eyes, cautious little touches, and overall curiosity of it all.

“I don’t know if I should be doing this” Your voice was small, torn as you looked up at him again with a frown. “It feels wrong, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, it's normal. Lots of girls do it, don’t you want to make me feel good? I made you feel good the other night, it’s only fair.”

"I know you better than you think baby. I know those dirty little sides of you no one else does. You keep saying this is wrong and you shouldn't be doing it…but you’ve been saying for days how you want to please me. Now it’s time. Want me to help you?” He murmured. You nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your stomach as you looked around one last time. He snaked a hand through your hair and guided you closer. His tip grazed your lips, pouty and slick from your lipgloss. Egairly you opened your mouth for him, trying to breathe through the new feeling and anxiety of having him in your mouth for the first time. 

Yoongi on the other hand felt like he could melt then and there. The feeling of your hot mouth against him sent tingles down his spine. “Just suck on it a little, grab the rest with your hand, and stroke it for me, baby.” your hand felt so small and cold against him, it made him shiver. He tugged your head a bit, he couldn’t help it. Your inexperience was too much for him. He loved the clumsiness, the little noise you made as you choked on him, how drool dripped down your chin and stained your blouse. “I know you can take it bunny, tell me if you can’t- fuck” he hissed, “you’re so good for me.”

He came in your mouth- he hadn't planned to but hadn’t been able to help it the moment you peered back up to him. Your face flushed, your eyes wide and teary, still looking at him in adoration. You pulled back, saying something about not liking the taste and wincing when more landed on your face. Yoongi was too immersed in trying to calm down to make some witty remark, he just took a moment to steady his breathing and look down at you. “Sorry,” he was quick to get his pants back up and get down to your level to help clean up. He sighed, watching you pick at your ruined stockings and skirt, “We’ll go to the mall tomorrow, and I’ll try to come to see you Sunday.”

He tried to seem indifferent to the way your face lit up, lunging to hug him. He smiled and took you home.

After taking you to the mall and replacing your clothes, Yoongi felt needier than usual for you. He was ready to take up, ready to steal that innocence away. 

“Stop pretending you don’t want to” Yoongi laughed. “Do you like it?” Yoongi grinned. You squirmed in his lap. He could tell you were trying not to like it, your brow scrunched slightly. When he grabbed your face and made you look at him he could see the concern clouded with lust in your eyes. “I know you like it, stop lying to yourself” He had taken you home for the first time, wasting little time before pulling you to the bedroom for a makeout. 

“I do” you whimper, “but…I’m not supposed to do stuff like this” You frowned, “Not until I get married and-”

“We’re not having sex though, we’re just playing a little, right?” He asked, grabbing your hips tighter, pressing his bulge against you. Your skirt rode up more, your knees pressed into the sofa as he guided you to grind against him. You were starting to get a little bold when you were with him, it was hard not to when he was constantly grabbing at you and saying all the right things to get you worked up. He was ready to take this to the next level- ready to fuck you.

“Come on, fuck yourself against me, baby, you’re already soaked and I’ve barely touched you.” He slipped back into his mindset fast. Your hips moved with his, he could feel the wet spot staining his jeans as you moaned and squeaked in surprise every time he pulled you hard against him. “Want me to fuck you? Seems like it, want me to ruin your insides?” He was into it, into how good your clothed cunt felt against his jeans and hard-on, how red your face was getting and the little beads of nervous sweat forming on your forehead. How your fingers clasped his shirt and nails pinched his skin, how into you seemed to be getting.

“I shouldn’t, but it feels so good” You cried, while Yoongi nearly came at your breathly little whines. 

“it's okay to be dirty like this, it makes you feel good, right? makes you want to cum like a good girl for me?” Yoongi went on, “Or we can stop, you can just pretend we didn’t do anything and go home, is that what you want?” “No” you cried, “It feels good. I wanna cum.” You shyly spoke, quickening your pace as he rutted against you.

“You gonna let me fuck you now?” He had been half serious when he said it, still content with sucking on and leaving hickeys on your shoulder. When you say yes? He felt like his brain short-circuited, he had you on your back in an instant; staring down at you like a hungry animal. Your shirt was unbuttoned, chest flushed and marked up from the groping. You were looking at him through lidded eyes, your legs still pressed together in anticipation as he moved in. 

“Fuck this is so wrong, isn’t it bunny?” Yoongi let out a shaky exhale, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, god you feel so good.” You were flushed under him, biting back moans and trying to take the pain of the first stretch like a good girl, like you knew he wanted you to. “I’m trying to go slow baby, but fuck…You’ll forgive me if I can’t, right?” He leaned closer to you, peppering kisses over your neck and sucking dark marks on your skin. “Please forgive me, baby, I’m gonna ruin you.” He murmured. He knew you’d never hate him, he knew you’d forgive him for anything he did to you.

taglist: @aft3rhrs

[deathbxnny]

Hey! May i request some abyss princess lumine, Skirk and Arlecchino x Jingliu! Reader? The reader used to be from the fallen nation of khaenriah, they were a legendary figure as they were known as the strongest swordman/swordswoman of all time. Their strengh and skilled with the blade could even rivals those of gods. However after the fall of their nation they were corrupted with the abyss. However it took a different effect on them, instead of rotting their flesh. It made them unhinged and unstable as they are ruthless and merciless. However they usually keep a blindfold as a way to surpress their bloodlust. However despite all of this they are kind and respectful until they are provoke.

I really loved writing this, Anon, so thank you for the requested and I hope you'll like this!<3

Content: Angst, mentions of death, reader is unhinged, can be read as either platonic or romantic, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not fully proofread))

》LUMINE

She pitied you, she really did. In a way, she even felt guilty and responsible for the state you were in. Lumine had met and seen you in your prime, back when you were revered as a powerful figure that reigned over battlefields with you sheer strength alone. And now, only a shell of that remains. A fragile one that's at risk of falling apart at any moment. It was tragic and yet another reminder as to why she was doing the things she did. It was important for her to prevail with her plans, if not just for you.

Your mental state was extremely unpredictable, something she learned to deal with over time. You were an even match, and that kept her bloodlust from attempting to kill her. For now, that is. She knows that she can never let her guard down around you, as much as she hates it. On most days, however, you simply calmly reminisce on a long gone past with her, perhaps out of necessity to hold onto something familiar.

Your relationship is filled with turbulent ups and downs that she always handles with ease. You may not be seeking a cure anymore to your deteriorating mental state, but she forever will look for one if it means to bring you back to your former glory.

》SKIRK

You knew each other. It's the first thing she claimed when meeting you, whilst you tried confirming it through a violent battle. It was a tie. And so, you began traveling through the Abyss together, wondering what it was that led your paths to cross. You apologized for your previous transgressions as well, something that piqued her interest greatly and hinted at your irreversible mental state.

She was careful with this fragility of yours and kept you away from the bloodlust by helping you train for it. It was natural to her to teach others, and surprisingly, you kindly accept her offer. Your condition may be incurable, but that doesn't mean that you don't understand the importance of discipline. You begin to learn that you two are strong-willed and very similar through it, a fact you enjoy deeply.

Once you open up about your past and your previous glorious life plagued by victorious battles and unparalleled power, you find yourself reflecting on Skirk's starting words to you. Was it perhaps the connection through the Abyss that made you familiar to one another? Or have you truly met before the fall of your home and nation? There was still so much to learn and experience at her side, that's for sure.

》ARLECCHINO

She has stern control over your chaotic state of mind. To some, this may be concerning, but to the both of you, this was a kind mercy. She helped you regulate the bloodlust and keep it away when it got unbearable. And you appreciated her deeply for it, especially as you knew each other for a long time.

Before your nation fell, she had heard and seen you in all your glory, fight against God's and mortals alike, making you a legend. Your stories had been lost to time by now, but that doesn't mean that she ever could forget them. You are a part of the home now, and the children are trained to deal with your unpredictability as well. They enjoy how kind and respectful you are and strive to be the same.

But alas, the pain and agony the curse had left you in made her secretly look for a cure. She was lucky not to be corroded by it in such a terrible way. And so she used her luck to help you out as well. She figured that she owed you at least that for sticking around with her here.

[guiltycorp]

Damn i really want to know tf happened in the writing room of arcane s2. Some of the downgrades were inevitable due to the show's corporate limitations (not being able to progress the class war story in a meaningful way, having to tie things back to league of legends in terms of making playable characters more appealing to well, play... rip Mel and Viktor in particular), sure. But i still feel like it's even worse than that? There are so many bad decisions that i couldn't even start listing them all... the characters, plot, pacing, themes, it's just such a mess? Even the dialogue writing, it feels much more mm Marvel at its worst i suppose. What i am most bothered by is probably just the straight up harmful messaging so um... Cycles of violence and abuse can be broken by individual decisions to become a better person! Got nothing to do with systemic oppression, living conditions, mental health issues, you can just conveniently ignore aaall the social context, live laugh love and then things get better automatically yep, oppressors famously stop oppressing you when you show them that you're harmless and won't put up a fight anymore. Literally three out of three suicidal characters dying to redeem themselves? Not even in a tragic/cathartic way but in a bittersweet 'they finally atoned for their mistakes' way? Groundbreaking lmao. Romantic relationship between Vi and Caitlyn including no communication about their biggest fight, just conveniently skipping to sex and getting back together - would have loved that if it was framed as the unhealthy fucked up thing that it is, skipping over Vi's hurt and her background to once again become a cop, her girlfriend's direct underling at that (!) due to her not having any other support systems... But nope that was our cute lesbian romance wrapped up, a good thing all around, not concerning at all. Jayce telling Viktor that what he 'always admired about him' was his disability and his deadly disease (??? from a character who spent the whole s1 and first act of s2 desperately trying to help Viktor find a cure? sure) and that those imperfections don't need fixing, just wtf truly. Magic bullshit was also weird, some implications of 'natural magic is ok, but achieving that power through other means corrupts you into a crazy robot bitch or just wilts your trees i guess', but tbh it was written in such a weird and inconsistent way that we can skip this one... Yeah actually a lot of things were just such a mess that I feel silly pointing to specific moments or lines I didn't like, I mean duh, it barely makes sense as a story at all... I am happy we have s1 which comparatively was a masterpiece, and i also really enjoyed s2 act1, i truly believed it would lead somewhere good at the time, my mind still kind of cuts off the story at that point when i think about it, that WAS the open ending of the show to me (is it possible that there were rewrites? targeting act 2 and 3? idk, wishful thinking perhaps). Despite my extremely negative feelings about this season's conclusion i remain glad that so many people appreciate the show regardless, it is clear that there was STILL a lot of love in the process of its creation (although i'd argue that even some of the visual aspects of the show suffered in quality, once again i have to wonder about behind the scenes mood of it all) and i get very upset when i see creatives online despairing over reception of their projects even when i'm absolutely in the disgruntled crowd hahaha... ...however yeah, this wasn't great In a world that increasingly grows more and more right-wing politically... we really needed something different i think.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hanging Onto Humanity | Chris Hartley + Wendigo!Reader

...........

Note: This is a revision of an Until Dawn fic I wrote back in 2016 on DeviantArt. Felt like it could use some improvements and changes. The original is still on my page so if y'all wanna read my 16 year old-self's writing be my guest.

Anyways enjoy Wendigo!Reader encountering Chris while still retaining their humanity and him recognizing them in a moment of despair.

Spoilers for one of Ashley's deaths

❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄

'It's not her. It's not her. It's not-'

Hannah's shrill scream overshadowed Ashley's own cries of shock as the wendigo sprung up from the trapdoor, having caught her completely off-guard.

Before the poor girl could react, her head was caught between two large hands that twisted her neck, a sickening and squeamish crack following suit. Her now lifeless body dropped to the floor, head landing beside it with a splat and her eyes losing whatever light remained in them.

Within the shadows of the mines, you could only watch in sadness as her corpse was dragged beneath the door, to where Hannah could feast on her newly-obtained prey without disruption.

Fortunately, she wasn't aware of your presence at the moment.

At least she granted Ashley a quick demise, but you wish it didn't have to come to this.

Because both of them used to be your friends..

Somehow, the wendigo's curse had all but corrupted your humane side. While the hunger was constantly present, and you could no longer speak like a normal person...you refused to kill any of the group members who returned to the lodge. Instead you've been observing them quietly, with none of them ever noticing.

You don't know why they came back to these mountains; this horrible place where Hannah and Beth met their fates that cold winter night.

Part of you recalls chasing after them through the blinding snow, only to become horribly lost and unable to find your way back. Not to mention something was stalking you, pushing you further into the surrounding woods. At the time you were certain it was a wolf, but now you knew it very much wasn't.

Then you remember nearly starving to death, eventually coming across the flesh of something--or rather someone. You didn't know who it belonged to, but you found yourself craving more and more until there was nothing but bones left.

Next thing you knew, you've become this horrible beast. A violent creature of the cold who only knew hunger, becoming acquainted with the ones who met similar fates in a mining incident ages ago.

But unlike them (and Hannah, who ended up being possessed by the dominant wendigo spirit), you tried to sustain your endless appetite through raw animal meat, opting to hunt the local deer. If you felt like eating a small snack, you'd find a squirrel or bird instead.

The curse didn't keep a strong hold on you, which is why you're able to lurk around your old group of friends with easy restraint, unwilling to hurt any of them.

They must have known you went missing, too, but obviously couldn't recognize you nor Hannah anymore. To them, you were just monsters who struck when they least expected it, moving at inhumane speeds and manipulating them in horrible ways to make them your prey.

One such example was Hannah imitating Jessica's voice, which Ashley unfortunately fell for. And now she was doing it again to lure somebody else.

Dropping down from the ceiling, you wandered over to the cellar to shut her up for good....when something soft brushed against your foot, making you look down in curiosity.

And you froze.

It was Ashley's red and pink beanie, stained in blood.

Fresh blood...human blood-

'No...I can't..' Hissing, you looked the other way, but your pale eyes eventually wandered back to the hat. The urge had passed, thank goodness, allowing you to crouch down and pick it up.

Aside from blood's stickiness, you could also feel its softness between your long claws, a hazy yet fond memory coming to the forefront of your mind:

A small birthday party, with you, Ashley, Chris, and the others hanging out at the lodge--where you gifted her this exact beanie.

She always whined about her ears getting cold, and after you shopped around the mall, you found it for her, seeing that it practically had her name written all over it. And sure enough, she loved it to death, wearing all the time during the cold season.

You'd never expect it to come back into your possession like this.

Now it was nothing more than something to remember her by, as she was gone forever.

'I'm sorry, Ash...' You clutched the beanie with remorse, wondering what to do next-

"I'm coming, hold on! I'm coming."

Hearing the voice of Chris, you dropped it out of instinct and darted back into the shadows, realizing he was the one unknowingly answering Hannah's call.

That's right.

You forgot all about him.

You had nowhere else to go, and you didn't want him getting the wrong idea, so you stayed as quiet as possible.

Through thermal vision, you saw his form limping into the small room, possibly looking for his friend--or rather his crush.

You faintly remember all the years you, Sam, and Josh spent teasing Chris over it, wondering when he'll finally grow a pair and ask Ashley out. The three of you were certain it'll come any day, but every time he tried going for it...he chickened out again and again.

Yet tonight's events seemed to have brought them closer together....as you could see the look of devastation that crossed the blond's face the moment he recognized the beanie on the ground.

A shaky gasp escaped him, further constraining your heart with guilt as he broke right there and then, kneeling down.

"O-Oh no..oh my god!" He began to sob, picking up the beanie with a trembling hand. "Oh my god, Ash!! No, no, this can't be real! This can't be real!!"

The flashlight accidentally slipped from his other hand, which rolled to reveal your hiding spot, and you instinctively hissed at the brightness that blinded you.

It was brief, but enough to expose your presence to Chris, who gawked in terror upon seeing you and grabbed the flashlight, keeping it on you as he scrambled to his feet. "Holy fuck--y-you....WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!!" He screamed with such anger, tears streaking his face.

God, he wishes he still had that shotgun.

He thought he was a goner the moment he saw you, but strangely enough..you didn't immediately leap at him.

You didn't seem to be hungry for his flesh.

The only thing you did was....stare. And not with anticipation. You were just trying to figure out how to tell him that you didn't murder Ashley, even though it looks very obvious.

The longer he stared back at you, fear seizing all of his nerves, the more he began to recognize the clothes you had worn exactly one year prior, now stretched and tattered. Even that silly friendship bracelet you, Ashley, and him wore in freshman year was somehow still on your thin wrist.

'Wait, don't tell me that's....'

"[Y/n]...?" Chris muttered, eyes widening when you responded with a small chirp, giving him the confirmation that it was indeed you.

As if this night couldn't get any worse..he realized you too were subjected to the wendigo's curse. All along, you've been in this mountain, eating and killing to survive, but unlike the one that killed the stranger...you weren't trying to harm him in any way.

You still knew who he was.

You didn't see him as prey, but as your friend.

"Th-This is insane..you...after all this time you were here..?"

Nodding solemnly, you wish you could give him a hug, but you're sure he wouldn't want that. Not after what he's seen.

"You're not gonna eat me, right?" He cautiously asked. "I-I mean. If you're still..uh..you..there's no way you could have killed Ash.."

You shook your head, once again confirming he was correct. With a huff, you glanced at the bloody trail leading down into the cellar door, relieved that Hannah was quiet, but after hearing another choked sob come from Chris, you saw his knees give out.

The realization that he lost his three best friends in different ways hit him like a truck. "I-I'm so so sorry, [y/n]...it's...i-it's been a fucking nightmare. First..Josh lost his head and tricked me into thinking I murdered him, t-then Ashley's gone..and...and now you're a.....oh god! I'm so sorry...w-we...we tried to find you, I swear..."

You tried finding your voice, but all that came out was an odd scratchy sound, which did nothing to comfort the crying blond in front of you, torn by pain and exhaustion and betrayal.

This wasn't the kind of reunion you wanted.

It should have been in the lodge, surrounded by the fire's warmth and your closest friends..not in the bowels of these cold mines where you couldn't even console one who was grieving.

You don't know what Josh did to Chris, but it must have been bad enough to traumatize him-

"Chris!"

Blinking through tears, he snapped his head up, looking to the trapdoor. "A-Ashley? Is that you?!" His voice trembled.

"In here! Help!!" The voice cried out.

"You hear her?! She's alive!" Chris got up, but before he could take even a single step towards the cellar, you pounced on top of it. Least to say, he was bewildered by your actions. "Huh?! What are you doing?!"

'Saving you, idiot..' You thought, growling lowly. 'Of course Hannah would do this now...'

"[Y/n]. You need to move! She's trapped down there!" He tried getting closer, annoyed that you weren't budging. But as you snarled a second time, he flinched back in fear. "Th-That's not cool, dude.."

While you admired his initial bravery, he was quick to cower away as you just stared at him, unwilling to let him open the door and meet the same demise as her.

"I-I don't understand. She was literally JUST calling for help-!"

"Not her."

Chris went completely silent, his jaw dropping he heard you imitating his own voice, your mouth moving like a normal human being's. "Did...Did you just...?"

"Not her." You repeated firmly, hoping he'd finally get the hint.

"....s-so..wait, wait, wait.....you can mimic our voices now?!"

"Always have."

"...damn, that's...insane." He muttered, wondering why the stranger never mentioned that somewhat important detail. "But..that means...she's really gone."

You regrettably nodded, watching his shoulders slump. "I..I-I shouldn't have fallen behind. I should have stayed with her. I...I-I never even got to tell her...." But he stopped himself, looking at you with such defeat and hopelessness. "I don't know if I can do this anymore, [y/n]. How can I go on without-?"

"Live for her." You spoke in his voice once more.

While you hated using mimicry, it was the only way that whatever remained of your humanity could still get through to Chris--letting him know that despite all appearances..you weren't totally gone.

You wanted him to leave this cursed place alive.

Ashley would have wanted him to.

"S-Sounds like I'm giving myself a pep talk. But...alright." With a barely audible chuckle, Chris wiped at his tears, deciding to put the beanie in his pocket. "I'll live for her....and for you, too. Don't think I'll ever forget about you, pal. Thanks for saving my neck."

Although you couldn't smile, he could see your attempts to form one and was a bit amused.

As he started heading out of the small cavern to rejoin the group, you decided to follow him closely, certain that some other wendigo was waiting to pounce on him.

Fortunately, you didn't sense any nearby. They must have thought you were tracking him as your prey.

A lot of them were smart, but not even Hannah caught wind that you never intended to eat him or any of your friends.

Even though you failed to protect Ashley, and you couldn't let the others see you, you'll do your best to ensure they all lived to see the sun rise.

Especially Chris.

[sklives]

Hello cuties, how ya doing? ✨⭐

Well well, I was watching Naruto again cause the Brazilian dub was released and I realized something that I don't know if every fan of team taka is aware of.

Isn't a secret to anyone that Sasuke saw team taka as his own family just like team seven and that every member in team taka resembles one of team seven, right?

Well, the first time I read and saw this

I thought that Juugo was some kind of representation for Kakashi to Sasuke, but then I realized that Juugo represents Sasuke himself and then Sasuke became Kakashi's representation in team taka, the leader, but not just that, it's what Kakashi said one time. 

This conversation between Orochimaru and Suigetsu only reinforces this idea too.

Like, he says that Juugo, Karin and Suigetsu, just like Sasuke, they are free now, but at the same time it's implied that they are now with Sasuke as Taka and not Hebi anymore. Some other translations said “You are not my snake anymore.” So, it's much stronger and significant.

And for Juugo we see him as a member of a cursed clã that needs someone to put him in a “cage”. 

It's funny seeing that Juugo needed it like just two times, one was Sasuke and another time was with Suigetsu and then I realized that this ‘cage’ is indeed the team taka. 

At the very beginning team Hebi wasn't a peaceful team, they weren’t in tune with each other and this was a trigger to Juugo’s rage, but as time passed his impulse of killing stops just as team hebi became more harmonious.

The other time he couldn't control it was when all of them were apart, Juugo and Suigetsu were in one of those Orochimaru’s hideouts and Suigetsu was murmuring about the situation.

This scene isn't in the manga, but somehow it feels important because it was at this point that team hebi began to be something more than just a bunch of people sticking together, they became some more to each other somehow.

You know what? I like team taka the most because they had so much in common, they shared a lot of things and even though Kishimoto didn't show it, it was implied that they, even during those dark years with Orochimaru, knew each other's history and lived together like that.

I want to write something more detailed about that, well…

Juugo wanted to be alone because of his own strength and Sasuke himself choose the loneliness to become stronger and somehow the two of them find freedom in they respective teams

Sasuke and Juugo are two gentle souls that were corrupted by they respective clans and by the evil in others

[pocket-sized-nightmare]

so i saw this geminitay fanart by @aresonist today and might have gotten a little inspired to write a fic about it. especially because we have another life series premiering today and i'm very excited about it. so have some silly little gempearl nightmare angst (and op i hope you don't mind me using your art as inspiration!)

The sculk is hungry, and it comes with death.

Gem has never seen so much corruption in one place. It spreads as far as her eye can see until it trails off into darkness and inky black skies. Six games’ worth of loss is contained here. Three lives lost for every player, over and over. Death after death, kill after kill.

Some of the destruction is hers. She doesn’t want to know how much.

She blinks, breathes, and takes a step forward. Worldwalkers know how to navigate dreams, and Gem is no exception. She has endless control over the world inside her mind. She can make maps of every construction and wake herself up from the worst nightmares. It would take a true horror to keep her captive. Still, though, her dreamscapes are usually complicated. This is just… sculk. So much sculk. Gem can’t help but feel a sense of morbid curiosity about it.

Another step, then another. Nothing changes.

“Hello?” Gem calls. “Anybody home?”

There’s no response. It occurs to Gem that yelling in a field of sculk is a surefire way to summon a warden. She claps a hand over her mouth to silence herself, then slowly removes it. If something does try to kill her, she can just wake up. No harm done, right? Just a little insomnia. “Hello? What’s going on here?”

Silence. Complete silence.

“I know something’s hiding! You can just come out and get me, you know. I’m not scared of you!”

Come to think of it, there’s not a single sculk shrieker in the field at all. There’s not even a sensor. It’s all just empty space. Remnants of death with nothing to show for it.

Is this how winners feel?

Gem shakes her head to clear the thought. Worldwalkers know dreams better than anyone. This must be some weird half-memory from exploring Caves and Cliffs for the first time. Or maybe some unresolved panic from the escape world between Hermitcraft Seasons 8 and 9. That was pretty empty, right? She was wrong about the whole six-games’-worth-of-death thing at the beginning. This has nothing to do with the Life Series. This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the next game is set to start tomorrow.

Gem blinks. She breathes. She takes another step.

“This is fine. I’m fine. I’m so fine. It’s just a dream. I know how to deal with this. I’m completely–”

There’s a sudden tug on her left foot. She looks down to find it completely buried in sculk.

“Do you see that button right there?” she giggles to Scar. “Can you press it?”

Gem feels her breath catch in her lungs for a moment. “Nope. Absolutely not.” She wrenches her foot upwards, just barely managing to pull it free. “Not funny.”

Another step, then another, then–

“No!” Bdubs yells from below her, with zombies closing in. “It’s over for me…”

Her foot is buried deeper now. Try as she might, she can’t move it anymore. “Hey, no, stop it,” she admonishes the corruption. “Let go.”

“How did Pearl blow up? Wait, did–”

Gem grabs her boot with both hands and pulls. The sculk refuses to give. “Let go of me,” she snaps louder. Why does her voice sound so anxious? She isn’t afraid. This is her dreamscape, after all. “That one wasn’t meant to happen.”

“Somebody rigged that for us,” she grins, elbowing Scar. “Thank goodness, though. That worked out so well.”

Her right foot is trapped now, too. There’s no way her dreamself is getting out of this one. “Okay, okay, I get it. The infection was deadly. I know what I did. You can stop now.”

“Wow, maybe it actually is an apocalypse!”

“Yeah, that’s enough of that.” Gem envisions a sunrise-orange light in front of her. It spreads, brightening across her whole field of vision. This is the easiest trick in the book for her – she’s done it practically since birth, before any of the memory tricks or lucid dreaming, even before her full powers awakened. “I’m getting out of here.”

She swings her sword almost lazily, and it slashes across Joel’s chest. He’s weakened from the zombie attacks – he’s dead before he hits the ground.

The light flickers out in a puff of smoke.

“What?” Gem’s heart slams against her ribs. She desperately kicks and twists her feet within their sculk prison, but all it does is bury her deeper. “No. That’s not supposed to happen. That never happens.”

Only the most awful of nightmares can keep a worldwalker asleep. Gem isn’t being chased or stalked. Nothing is trying to kill her. It’s just her and her memories in a field of sculk. It’s fine. It’s fine. Waking up should be effortless. She can’t be trapped.

“Scar just murdered me!”

Gem makes one more desperate attempt at tearing her feet free. The force knocks her off balance, and she falls backwards to the ground. Sculk crawls across her body instantly.

“No.” Gem struggles against the dreamscape, but it only grows stronger. “No, stop! Let go of me! It was just a game! It’s over now! Let go!”

“I don’t want to kill her! Pearl, I don’t want to kill you!”

She tries to summon another sunrise light, but it fizzles out in front of her. Both her arms are pinned down. It won’t be long until she’s buried completely. “Stop! Let me go!”

“No, Gem, stop it!” Pearl shrieks. Blood drips from the cuts along her arms. She’s down to two hearts, then half a heart, and then…

Gem kicks and struggles against the sculk. Nothing she does is any use. She can’t move. She can hardly breathe. All the death she’s caused is coming back to eat her alive, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t escape it.

“Gem,” a familiar voice murmurs from somewhere outside the dreamscape. “Are you alright?”

“Let go!” Gem claws at the corruption, pleading with her subconscious in a last-ditch attempt at escape. She can’t be here. I killed her. I killed her so many times. Her death is written into half this stuff. I did this. It’s my fault. I can’t bring her here.

A soft touch grabs gently at her arms and tugs at her body. “Gem, stop. You’re thrashing around. It’s alright. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“No, stop!” Gem screams, struggling harder against her restraints. “It’s not okay! We can’t go back!”

“Come on, Scar,” Pearl sobs, trying not to look at the dying form of her partner. Gem is putting up the best fight she can, but void, it’s all too much. Pearl is watching her die. All Gem wants is to go back to safety, where she can curl up in Pearl’s arms and smile and say it’s all fine. She needs it to be over, but she can’t let it end. She can’t let it end, because ending means dying, and it hurts, it all hurts so badly, and Pearl is still screaming. “Come on, Scar, you’ve got this! You can do this!”

Sculk crawls across Gem’s face and creeps up to cover her mouth. She knows it’s her own death coming back to kill her again. She’s running out of time.

“Gem.” Kind hands dig through the sculk, gently beginning to pry her free. “Shh. It’s alright. You’re having a nightmare.”

Gem sobs, still kicking and struggling. She can barely breathe.

“Hey. Hey, shh, it’s alright.” As the familiar voice surrounds Gem, the sculk’s hold on her begins to loosen. “Stop struggling. You don’t need to fight. Fighting won’t end this. You’re having a nightmare.” One arm slips free, then the other. “Today’s a scary day. I know. It always is. Take a deep breath, alright? I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it doesn’t look good. You’re having a nightmare. It isn’t real. I promise.” She squeezes Gem’s hand. “I’m right here. Try to wake up with me.”

Gem spits the bitter sculk out of her mouth and forces herself to address the voice, the one who’s trying to save her, the one who’s always been there. The voice of her partner.

Pearl’s voice.

“Pearl, stop,” Gem murmurs. “It’s not right.” Her energy to fight fades until she falls still, lying back against the corrupted ground. “I can’t…” Her chest hurts. “Don’t save me. It’s not right. This is right. I… I killed…”

Pearl can’t hide a soft gasp – Gem’s first sign that her words are breaking through to the waking world. She brushes her hand across Gem’s forehead. “Never.” Her hands slip under Gem’s shoulders, moving effortlessly through the bonds holding her partner down. “That game is over. We’re here together now. We’re starting fresh. Tomorrow will be tough, but it’ll be alright.” Pearl is still there. She isn’t recoiling in horror. She isn’t afraid. “I’m right here. We’re both still here. Try to wake up.”

Trust blossoms in Gem’s chest alongside a small sunrise light. The nightmare is letting go. She might get out after all. “Don’t let go of me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Pearl gives Gem the softest, kindest forehead kiss she’s ever felt. It’s a tether to the waking world, a single anchor point. Pearl is her anchor. Pearl is strong. Pearl has won before, has lived this endless field of death, and she’s come out the other side to help others through it. Despite all the carnage, Pearl isn’t leaving. She and Gem will face the next nightmare together.

As the sunrise light spreads across her vision, Gem uses the last of her strength to reach up and wrap her arms around Pearl’s shoulders. With a gentle hug, Pearl pulls her free of the trap.

Gem opens her eyes and looks around at the soft lantern light of Pearl’s bedroom. Pearl is still holding her close. “See? I knew the sleepover was a good idea. Start days are hard. We’ve all dealt with it.”

“Scary,” Gem murmurs softly. “So much sculk. It wouldn’t let go…”

“But it did,” Pearl whispers back, combing her fingers through Gem’s hair. “You’re here now.”

“I’m here now,” Gem repeats, like she’s trying to believe it. “It’s okay.”

“And it’s going to stay that way.” Pearl kisses Gem again. “We’re only halfway through the night, okay? We can still get some sleep.” She lies back down and holds out an inviting arm to Gem. “We will take on tomorrow together.”

Gem curls up against Pearl and closes her eyes. “Thank you.”

Pearl smiles as she wraps her arm around Gem. “For what?”

“For not letting me lose myself.”

Gem’s dreamscape is eerie and quiet for the rest of the night, but every so often, the ambient hum of Pearl’s base breaks though to calm her. Secret Life is over. Every death game ends. Pearl is still there, and so is Gem.

There’s always a way out.