#Affordable Tattoo Removal

[rakeshraseo321]

Eyeliner Tattoo Removal

Getting tattoos, such as eyebrow embroidery, makeup tattoos, and body tattoos, has become a popular way to improve your looks. However, as styles change and people’s tastes shift, the need for affordable tattoo removal services has grown dramatically. You’ve come to the right place if you want to get rid of eyebrow embroidery, cheap tattoo removal, or eyeliner tattoo removal. Let’s look into these choices and see which ones will help you reach your goals the most.

Read Here: https://theomnibuzz.com/a-complete-guide-to-eyebrow-embroidery-and-getting-rid-of-eyeliner-tattoos/

[hyperhostingindia-blog]

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[readymades2002]

ackkkkkkkkkkk i want a tattoo i wish it didn't cost so much fucking MONEY to get a tattoo and also potentially hire someone to help me design one (they are too tired to draw anymore)

[quantumclinicau]

Affordable tattoo removal service

All tattoo removal lasers employ waves to disintegrate the ink. However, the wavelength used distinguishes them from one another. The ink colors used for colored tattoos settle in your skin's multiple layers. The tattoo removal specialist must use a machine that properly blends various wavelengths to eliminate the ink hues. When selecting an affordable tattoo removal service, you must first and foremost be aware of the technology they employ. The pigments embedded in a tattoo are broken down by laser equipment using intense energy bursts, and your body then excretes the broken-down pigments.

[portgasdwrld]

☆ naked in bed.

•°. *࿐what are their reaction when they see your naked body waiting for them under the sheets?

•°. *࿐NSFW, featuring : Law, Shanks, Zoro

Law

It was a long day, and he wanted nothing more but to rest in his bed and relax

You had other plans

You have been craving for his touch for such a while but never found the perfect moment to make a move

So you thought about doing something simple but clear: sleeping naked

You giggle to yourself when you hear your boyfriend slide open the door from the bathroom.

You stare at him shamelessly full with need and lust

Only his hips were wrapped around a way too colourful towel for him (you insisted to buy it for souvenir at an island) the water from his wet dark hair was slightly dripping down his toned back. You watched his beautiful tattooed body move as he was searching for his clothes, his tooth brush in his mouth.

You wanted to jump on him

He still hasn’t noticed your little stunt and you don’t believe he will until he gets into the bed

Law finally heads back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth and change into fresh clothes

As he gets out, his eyes connect with yours immediately. Your gaze barely left his silhouette and he has been quite aware of it.

He smiles as he approaches the bed and he quickly kisses the top of your head. He moves the sheets a little to get into them, until he stops and look at you.

“What-…”

“What’s wrong?” You ask him with a smirk as you wrap your arm around his waist. Your chest pressed against his tank top. Law smiles

“You never really let me rest, you know that?”

“It’s just another way to relax” you say to him as you feel his cold fingers brush against your skin. His lips press against yours and with his other hand, he cups your breast.

“If you say so..” he whispers back before diving back into another passionated kiss.

Shanks

Your lips were hungrily attached to his as you two were caught in an intense making out session

It basically started off by some flirty comments from both side, a little kiss on the neck by Shanks and boom..

You found yourself hovering over Shank on the bed, desperately trying to get his clothes off

Then suddenly you got interrupted by a knock on the door, claiming they needed the captain for something

You two sighed frustrated and you got off your man and watched him leave horny and disappointed.

“I will be right back ok?” He reassured you with his familiar smile before closing the door behind him

You wanted to waste no time, so you took your clothes off, ready to just get right into it

As Shank opened the door again, his eyes fell on your naked upper body , leaving him confused at first, but it was soon replaced with a mischievous smirk

“So eager, are we darling?”

His mouth closed around one of your nipples , bringing a moan out instantly out of you

“Shanks please..”

“We have time, let’s take it slow”

He’s such a cocky teasing asswhole

we still love him

Zoro

He always ripped apart some pieces of your underwear

Last night your thong barely made it alive, few days ago your bra lost an arm, one of your pantie didn’t make it through the injury

You were two panties away from a penury of underwear and when you were sailing for days and days, you couldn’t afford that

So you had to protest in your own way, and it was now to sleep naked so he won’t rip none of your clothes off

Zoro walked into your shared room with a cocked eyebrow when he quickly realized what was happening

“What are- why are you-“

“I’m protesting!”

“Huh?”

“You carelessly rip my underwear off so I won’t sleep with them anymore”

He rubbed his face against his face before he broke in a silent chuckle. He smirked and looked you up and down.

“Sure, doesn’t seem like the big punishment if you ask me”

“Shut up and get to bed already” you spat back annoyed as you push yourself more against the wall to leave some space for him

“Who said we were gonna sleep?”

He smirked as he removed the sheets and pulled your body closer to him. He got to his knees and propped himself between your thighs.

“Let me apologize first”

[hlhdermatologica]

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Having a solid skincare routine is crucial for managing any skin issue, including active acne and skin aging. It is often said, prevention is always preferable to treatment. Any skin problem can be handled and treatment is not necessary if one begins practicing healthy skin care habits in the early stages of a skin condition or at a young age. Hence, after contacting a dermatologist, treat your skin with the best products for your skin type.

It is crucial to get treatment for severe skin conditions as soon as possible to prevent further aggravation. Many contemporary methods have been developed to offer a happy and cozy experience. Your doctor will be able to advise you on the most effective course of therapy if you are dealing with skin conditions like acne, psoriasis, or eczema. This can involve using a particular cream or ointment or a prescription drug.

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[luveline]

lovely jade if you were ever in the mood to write something for remus/reader where maybe they’re out with their friends and reader can tell that remus’ pain is flaring up but he doesn’t want to draw attention to it so she nudges him to lean on her i would be forever indebted to you

Remus has a strange laugh. It doesn't quite match his voice, which is unusual too. Sometimes he chuckles but mostly he giggles, this stringing, sweet sound as he grasps your hand or your arm or your elbow. And you love hearing it, laughing yourself at Sirius’ dirty joke, but you almost wince at the amount of weight he leans into you. It's over as soon as it began, he's moving away, his smile fading with his laugh. 

You shouldn't be standing up, but the pub hadn't had a table and no one wanted to go home yet. You're waiting for an opening, a pitcher of Blue Lagoon between you all and a couple of bags of pork scratchings to ignore. Remus isn't made to stand this long, but it's not like him to mention it. 

His jeans are starched under your fingers as you put a hand on his hip. He raises his eyebrows at you, semi-suggestive. 

“She asked me who I was,” Sirius says, to Lily's disgust, and James’ poorly hidden amusement, “and I didn't have the heart to tell her. Remus ended up telling her we'd met before at a party–” 

“Is this true?” you ask, standing closer to him than you need to. 

He stares at you for a little while. Not long enough to be awkward, but longer than most people would pause. “I did feel a bit sorry for her, but she was lucky, really. Who'd want to remember a night with Pads?” 

“Don't say it like that! I didn't touch the poor girl beyond helping her put a new shirt on. Such an unfortunate tattoo, that… It'd look nice on you, though,” Sirius says, grinning at James encouragingly. 

“Think so?” James asks. 

Lily protests this idea very loudly. James would not suit that kind of tattoo, and Remus should probably put a stop to it; Sirius’ power of persuasion multiplied by the danger of friendship (i.e. egging each other on relentlessly) could genuinely result in James getting a tramp stamp of the Welsh dragon before the night ends. 

He's distracted, is all. Shifting from foot to foot, pulling his arms behind his back to prompt a click he won't get. You nudge him gently, and when he meets your eyes, you lean toward him deliberately with your shoulder clear for the grabbing. At the same time, you press your arm behind his back. 

Miraculously, he accepts the offer of support. Remus wraps an arm around your shoulder and lets the majority of his weight rest on your centre of gravity, exhaling through his nose. 

“Am I too much?” he asks, turning his head from his friends, his breath warming the shell of your ear. 

“No. Lean on me as much as you want to.” Want, you say, rather than need. 

Remus will appreciate the difference. He sighs as the pain in his back starts to ease off. If anyone were to look at you both, they wouldn't see you supporting him, just a lovers hug. You kiss his cheek a couple of times all squished together —one kiss or multiple?— before you lean away to brush soft strands of his hair behind his ear. “You okay?” you ask. 

“I'm okay,” he says with a nod, a real grin on his lips as he does as you'd done, kissing your cheek. “I'm too tired for this. Do you think James can afford laser tattoo removal?” 

[my-castles-crumbling]

😍🚲 - drarry - server BITMOJI microprompt challenge - word count: 331

Harry Potter could not afford to have vices. His life was already dangerous enough as it was. Indeed, in the first seventeen years of his life, he’d somehow managed to find himself in the middle of more stupid, dangerous, and life-threatening things than he could count. In the name of saving people, sure, but still, he couldn’t go asking for anything more.

But fuck. 

Something about motorcycles drew his eye. The roar of the engine. The sleek shine of the metal. The adrenaline he knew he would feel if he drove one.

It made him forget all about the promises he’d made Ron and Hermione to be more careful now that he was a professional and the War was over.

So today, as he sat a little outside of London, waiting for an unnamed Auror to meet him, his eye was drawn to a beautiful Ducatti that zoomed down the road toward him. Not only that, but he was quickly distracted by the man on the bike. His fit physique, his tight leather jacket and matching pants. The way his blonde hair, tied into a low ponytail, seemed to flow in the wind.

The way his tattooed hands firmly but delicately guided the bike to a stop right in front of Harry, making his mouth go dry and his jaw tighten. His body, already strangely hot, tensed, and his heart began to beat a bit faster.

And yes, he was not being subtle about staring. He’d been single for a few years, out for almost as many, and the man was fit. Sue him.

Of course, he regretted it almost instantly when the man removed his helmet.

“Malfoy?” he gasped, wanting to punch himself for thinking that way about that person.

“Auror Malfoy to you, Potter,” Malfoy corrected, throwing Harry the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “You seem to like what you see?”

“Shit. Yes,” Harry murmured begrudgingly.

He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the man or the bike.

[illusioninfnty]

Bite Me, Suck Me, Stake Me!

જ⁀➴ Vampire & Hunter : Day 29

feat. Simon "Ghost" Riley ᯓ★ Ghost is a skilled vampire hunter, but you're an even better vampire. Too bad you haven't convinced him to let you take a little bite out of him yet...

warnings! : NSFW 18+, fingering, degradation, name-calling, semi-public sex, hate sex, choking, biting, cum eating, blood play, blood as lube

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“Found you.”

The cool silver of a knife digs into the skin of your neck, as a familiar gravelly voice rings out from behind you in the alleyway.

“Ghost.” You smirk, remaining calm. “What a surprise,” you say sarcastically. You and Ghost have been constantly going back and forth with each other ever since he started hunting vampires in your area. It’s like a game at this point. You hunt for food, he chases after you, you run.

You know you can kill him with ease if you so please, but he dicks you down so nicely that you let him slide just for that. 

The sharp tip of a wooden stake digs into your back as Ghost presses himself against you. “No sudden moves or I stake you where you stand, vamp.”

He spits out the words with venom, but you know it means naught.

“Just like you promised me last time? And the time before that, and before that, and—”

A grunt sounds from the vampire hunter as the stake digs itself further into your back, interrupting your teasing words. You bite your lip to prevent the hiss of pain from rolling off of your lips.

“Not this time. Price is on my ass now. Can’t have any more screw-ups happening under my watch.” He leans in closer to you, his hot breath a stark contrast to your cool skin as it hits your cheek. “And it seems like you’ve been causing more and more trouble these days. More than I can afford.”

“How else am I supposed to get your attention?” you drawl out, running a hand up his muscular, tattooed arm. You feel the way he clenches from your touch, his veins pulsing as the blood rushes in his body. You lick your lips, running your tongue over your exposed fangs. With your free hand, you flick his hood off of his head, getting a look at his beady, intense eyes as they stare you down.

“I missed you,” you say, running a hand down his front, reaching down to grab his bulge. “And I missed him, too.”

“Fucking tease,” he hisses, but you can tell he’s getting all riled up by the way his cock throbs in your hand, hardening as the seconds pass by. You begin to fondle him, rubbing his member through his pants as you feel yourself getting wet.

“Such a slut.” Simon’s voice comes out in a growl. The weapons he holds against you are swiftly put away as one hand nestles itself against the back of your neck while the other pushes your pants and underwear down, two digits already fingering at your wet slit. “Causing trouble just to get my attention? Didn’t take you to be such a brat.”

You grumble at the hand that restricts your head movements. Simon is smart—no doubt that he knew you were planning to bite him. Unlike other vampires, you did have some self-control when it came to biting humans, but there was something about the vampire hunter who constantly chased you that enraptured you, desperate to get a taste of the blood pumping through his veins.

“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him bluntly. You attempt to move out of his hold, but Simon has an iron-locked grip on you as he sticks his fingers inside of you. A piercing cry leaves your lips as his fingers curl and thrust inside of you, your wetness allowing him to move them with ease.

“Shit, look at you. Barely even touched you and you're already begging for my cock.”

You only respond with a moan; Simon chuckles as he removes his fingers, and you hear the clink of his belt buckle as he undoes his pants and pulls his cock out.

It only takes a couple of seconds for Simon to align his cock with your entrance and push himself in, the familiar stretch of his member filling you up so nicely, complete in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Fuuuck,” you moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your body starts to go limp as Simon thrusts his cock in and out of you with reckless abandon, the clapping of his skin to yours loud enough that you think if someone walks past the alleyway you’re in they’d hear it before they see you.

You yelp as the heat of Simon’s palm meets your ass, snapping your thoughts back to the present, to the pleasure he gives you.

“Focus on me.” His grip tightens around your neck, his hand wide enough to reach around towards the front of it, pressing down hard enough to make your body feel all tingly. His thrusts are relentless, your body powerless to him as he manipulates you to his heart's desire.

“L-let me bite you,” you breathe out, thrashing your head around before Simon stills you. “Just a taste,” your voice trails off, more pathetic sounding than you intended.

Simon snorts. “I’m not letting a vamp bite me.” He ruts his hips against you, his cock filling you to its hilt. “Especially one as reckless as you.”

He ignores your whines of complaint, holding you still with one hand as he fucks up into you, caging you in as his other hand steadies himself against the brick wall.

But yet as Simon becomes distracted with his thrusts, the tightness of his hold on you lessens. You take that as your cue to escape from his grip. The aroused state you’re both in has your senses heightened to the fullest. You can practically hear the blood flowing in his body, the strength of it intensified with the adrenaline that course through his veins as he fucks you. 

You don’t even take a second to think as you sink your fangs into the arm that’s stretched out next to you, a moan escaping as you taste Simon’s sweet, sweet blood for the first time.

“Fuck!” Simon rips his arm away from your bite with a yelp. You gasp as his cock leaves your body as he turns you around, shoving you against the wall, restraining you with a hand around your throat. He squeezes down with the bitten arm, blood flowing from it down towards his fingertips. You laugh as much as you can with your airflow restricted, fangs dripping with his blood. You lick some of it that dribbles out of the corner of your lips, staring teasingly up at Simon through your lashes as you do so.

“Fucking bitch,” Simon growls, teeth practically snarling as he stares you down with malice. “Should fucking stake you for that!”

“You like my cunt too much to do that,” you purr, your arousal heightened more than ever as you’re invigorated by the taste of human blood—human blood that actually tastes good. You open up your legs, baring your sopping cunt to him, bucking your hips up.

As Simon squeezes down on your neck, his flowing blood trickles its way closer and closer to you. Your pupils dilate as you see the stream of red finally get into your reach, licking as much of it as you can up. You didn’t want to waste a drop if you didn’t have to.

“You want my blood that badly?” Simon takes a swipe at his bleeding arm, coating his palm in the liquid. He pumps his cock one, two, three times and then shoves it back into you, blood and all. ‘You can fucking take it like a slut, then.”

Your world turns white as your body fills with immense pleasure as he buries himself into you. He gives you no time to adjust to his size as he begins to thrust wildly. You moan, digging your nails into his skin for stability.

“Careful, big boy,” you start, arousal dripping off of your words, “I might just get addicted to you now.”

“Seems like you already are with the way you’re clenching around me like that.”

You don’t have the strength to answer Simon, the taste of his blood still in your mouth along with the way that his cock stretches you completely, jackhammering its way into places you never knew it could reach, has you feeling euphoric. You don’t even get a warning yourself as you feel yourself cum suddenly, juices squirting all over yourself and him.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck,” you repeat over and over as your body trembles, jolts of electricity moving their way up and down your limbs as your orgasm hits you like a truck.

The rhythm of Simon’s thrusts begins to dissipate, and with a low grunt warmth fills your cunt as he cums inside of you, the hot liquid filling your throbbing entrance.

He pulls out and finally releases his grip on your neck, causing you to grasp on the wall behind you as your legs still shake relentlessly.

You look down to see his cum spill out of you, dribbling down your thighs, turning a light pink color as it mixes with his blood.

Simon swipes a hand at your slit, puffy and sensitive from the sex. You whine as he does so, seeing the way it coats his fingers, a nice and thick viscosity.

“This’ll be the last time you get a taste of my blood. He takes a hand to your jaw, opening it up as he shoves his blood and cum coated fingers down your throat. “Fucking take it.” You slurp on it happily, the sweetness of his blood mixing perfectly with the salty taste of his cum.

“That should keep you occupied for a while.” He mutters. “And me out of trouble for now.”

As you finish licking his fingers clean, Simon pulls his pants up, buckling his belt and throwing his hood back over his head. “Next time we meet will be the last, and it’ll end with a stake implanted in your fucking heart.”

You chuckle as he stalks off, disappearing into the night. You’re not scared of his empty threats. He’s just as addicted to you as you are to him.

[emotionalhottiee]

You’re my little secret 💋.

Part 2

(inspired by “My little Secret” by Xscape (kind of).

Warning: 18+ (This content may include explicit material).

DISCLAIMER: This oneshot is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Part 1

Jey Uso x Ashleigh (OC)

It’s not really a secret, it’s just nobody’s business.

(A couple of hours later)

*phone buzzes*

Bae😍: Meet me in our secret spot 2 minutes 👀.

Me: okay daddy 🥰

It’s a good time to take a break, since it’s a weekday there shouldn’t be too many people. I made sure my bar was closed up, and headed toward an empty VIP section. The room where me & Josh always met up. It’s the ultimate VIP section, & not many people can afford it. Therefore it’s always empty. Plus i always take some time to make sure it’s nice and clean. One of the many perks of being head bartender. So its the perfect place to go & get dicked down while at work. Not the other owner cares anyway he be fucking almost every girl he hires, but that ain’t none of my business.

I handed Josh my keys so that he can open the door, and as i walk in i felt him on my heels. He closes the door and immediately pulls me in for a sensual kiss. Oh how I’ve missed him!! Even though we see each other all the time, at work and outside of work. He just does something to me. He’s 6’2 muscular frame towered over my little 5’4 self. “That boy gone get his ass whooped uce if he don’t watch himself”. He spoke angrily, while i know he’s not angry with me. I abruptly stopped running my fingers over his beautiful tribal tattoos. Honestly i had forgotten all about what happened with Que earlier, that’s how much of a non factor he is. “I know but he literally throws himself onto every girl here, hoping someone will fall for his bs”. I stated to Josh trying my best to reassure him, that he’s the only man i want. I moved my hands up to his face, getting a handful of his salt & pepper beard, staring into those big brown eyes. “Hell would have to freeze over and pigs would be down there ice skating, before he would ever have a chance with me.” I stated calmly but matter of factly, never breaking our stare down. I felt the tension in his body, going away as a smirk grew on that handsome face. Because he knew he had me in the palm of his hand. “I only belong to you, Mr. Fatu.” His smirk turned into a complete smile. Now enough about that loser.

Now that the conservation about Que, was over and done with. My lips met with his for a passionate kiss. His shifted down to my neck as he used his tongue planting wet kisses all over my neck. My ass was in his big ole hands literally as he squeezed ever so firmly, while i let out a soft moan my hands now under his shirt rubbing his chiseled back. He swooped me up in his arms as if it were nothing and walked us over to the U-shaped sectional that sat in the middle of the VIP room.

“I missed you so much baby girl” he softly groaned against my lips. “I missed you too baby” I replied before he kissed me again. This time parting my lips with his tongue, we engaged in a hot and steamy make out session with him only breaking it to remove our articles of clothing (mostly mine). He finally got down to my shorts pulling them over my ankles and tossing them as if we were at one of our respective homes. “Don’t be throwing my clothes all over this room Josh. I’m going to need those to go back to work”. I stated in a serious tone, but he paid me no mind. I was for real, I can't go back on the floor naked! He kept going sliding my Fenty laced panties off. He stared at my pussy for a moment as if it was his first time seeing her. He quietly let out a damn, beforing lowering himself down so that he and my wet pussy were eye level. As started kissing my vagina I let out a soft moan while running my fingers through those reddish brown curls. He picked up the pace a little bit as i laid my head back in awe of how he was eating me up as if he couldn’t waste a drop of me. “Mmmhmm you taste so sweet baby girl” he moaned against my pussy sending chills up my spine.

Right on cue he used some of his weight to hold my legs down as if he knew i was cumming before i even realized. Hell as much as this man knows my body he probably did know i was about to cum. He wasted no time inserting his finger into me, while his attention moved to my clit. Right when i was at the edge he then removed his finger, and went back to only using his mouth. “That’s right baby. Cum for daddy.” He said huskily and i immediately came following his command. My body quivered as he slurped up my juices, making sure to leave nothing behind. We could be on here all night.

As he came up we were face to face again. He kissed me with all of my juices still lingering on his lips. “You are so sweet, baby i will never get tired of eating that pretty lil pussy”, he said to me in between loving kisses. He slowly lowered his hand to my vagina rubbing my clit, grazing her ever so gently. He stood up only for a second to finally remove his jeans and his ethika boxers. He dicked popped out at full attention. I licked my fingers before moving them down to his perfectly shaped member. He watched me caress his dick with my hand for a second before moving his eyes back up to mine. Intensely our eyes locked with each other as i gave his dick a message. I could tell me ready to fuck the shit out of me, so i moved my hand to allow him to bring dick up to my entrance. He slowly rubbed it up and down my vagina. Gliding it over my wetness before slowly inserting himself inside of me. His eyes still honed in on me and my facial expression as I lifted up off of the sectional a little bit.

He took his time at first, slowly bringing his hard dick in and out of me. I had my head back as the moans i let out with each stroke grew louder. But lifted it back up to motion for him to come closer towards me. He brought his body back over mine clasping his hands together above my head so that i could run my hands up and down his smooth back. Without any hesitation he took that as his innovative to pick up the pace a little bit. Hitting my spot with every stroke he gave me. He placed his head in my neck his ear right next to my mouth, so that he could hear each moan loud and clear. “You so damn tight.” He grunted into my neck while my hands roamed all over the large tribal tattoo on his back. My long acrylics digging into his skin as i felt my self reaching my climax. And still on perfect timing “you gone cum all over this dick, just like i like it” he command his voice huskier than usual. He moved his head from my neck back up to my face. Trying to resume our intense gaze from earlier, but i couldn’t look at him right now. I couldn’t even look straight if i wanted to. My eyes rolled tightly in the back of my head as i began to orgasm all over daddy’s girthy dick just as he had commanded. “I’m right behind you baby girl” he let out still trying to make eye contact. Once i was done he sat back upright never pulling out and held my legs outward as him watched himself slide in and out. He took pleasure in watching my juices cover his dick. As it was his turn, he released himself inside of me, stroking until every last drop of his cum filled me up.

Gatdamn i love this man. I thought to myself as we finished up the last of our love making. Josh helped me cleaned myself up, and put my clothes back on. He gave me a kiss on the lips, followed by a kiss on the forehead. We walked back down to the main area of the club my fingers interlocked with his. A few more people had made their way in, but nobody really noticed both of our absences. Or at least they didn’t say anything to me about it. Not that I’m hiding my love for Josh. But we both agreed that putting people in our business when we are working together is a dangerous game. So we just keep that little bit of information to ourselves. Only person that knows about our relationship is Jon. Which of course, that’s his twin. I watched as my baby walked back over to his security station along with his brother. And of course i look over to see Jon saying something to Josh about where he was at for so long. I just quietly giggled to myself at those two. Back to fuckin work.

[mooniedust]

CHOI SU-BONG (THANOS) BOT/PROMPT

Plot: Choi Su-Bong and you were inseparable, but the leak of an intimate video of you shatters your lives. You are publicly blamed, while he remains silent. After being removed from the group and sinking into vices, you find Su-Bong in a violent situation on squid game. You seek refuge together, facing the weight of your losses and unresolved emotions.

Trigger Warnings: Physical violence, gunfire, public humiliation/shame, substance abuse a themes of betrayal/emotional abandonment

Note: Heyyyy everyone! I'm officially back to my bot crisis (at the request of zero people, obviously), both on c.ai and janitor, for some more "adult" bots. Recently, I've been super impressed by the new Round Six characters and, of course, the COMPLETE LACK of bots made for them. So... why not try to fix that myself? Or at least, give it a shot... Let’s see how it goes! Hope you like it, or at least pretend to, yeah? coming soon on janitor!!!!

With all my heart,

Moon Dust.

It used to be common to think of Choi Su-Bong and she as inseparable, two halves of a whole. From the grueling days of their training, they had been bound together by ambition and hardship. They rose together, shone together, laughed together—symbols of a new generation of idols, radiant, joyful, and, above all, alive.

But that was a lifetime ago.

The day her intimate video leaked, everything shattered. The footage, while carefully avoiding Thanos’s face, didn’t need to spell out who he was. His tattoos, his haircut—they gave him away to anyone paying attention. But no one cared to look his way. All eyes were on her. The weight of the scandal fell squarely on her shoulders, as though she alone had committed some unspeakable sin.

He said nothing. Not a word of defense, not a denial. His silence was louder than the public’s condemnation. The only words he offered her were cold and detached:

“We’ll talk when this blows over. It’s better if we’re not seen together... not after the video.”

The memory of those words still haunted her, a dagger twisting in the wounds left by betrayal. She had no choice but to bow to the powers that be, issuing a tearful apology on live television, her voice trembling as she declared herself a disgrace to her family and fans. The apology was carefully scripted, every word chosen to appease the insatiable appetite of a public eager to see her broken.

And it worked. Her shame was met with silence from her peers and the unrelenting scorn of her fans. Soon after, she was quietly removed from the group that had once been her family. They called it a “voluntary departure,” but everyone knew the truth.

Walking away from the spotlight should have been liberating, but the glittering lights clung to her like a ghost. The comfort of fame and the indulgence it afforded were addictions she couldn’t shake. When the money dried up, her vices remained, digging their claws in deeper, until she found herself dragged into that game—a twisted stage for sick minds to play god.

And somehow, fate had tethered her to the one person she thought would never let go of her hand—until he did.

“You’re out. Let’s go.”

His voice broke through the chaos, sharp and commanding, as she stumbled through the crowd of desperate players. The sound of gunfire rang in her ears, a relentless cacophony that drowned out rational thought. She tripped over bodies, her breath hitching in her chest as she searched for any semblance of safety.

Then she saw him.

Choi Su-Bong lay crumpled on the ground, his eyes glazed over, his trembling hand reaching for the chain around his neck. She recognized it instantly—the necklace he always wore, the one that hid his stash of pills. The bitter irony stung. He had been betrayed by his own group.

Everything after that happened in flashes, like the blinding strobe of a camera. Her legs moved on instinct, her hands clawing and pulling at his uniform, dragging his limp body forward. He was too stunned to fight back, too far gone to resist.

Then she saw it: a room. Empty. Salvation.

Without thinking, she yanked him inside, ignoring the player who almost made it in alongside them. Ethics had no place here. The door slammed shut with a metallic clang, her hands shaking as she twisted the lock. Her chest heaved as she pressed her back against the door, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Their bodies collided in the confined space, his weight pressing against hers as they both struggled to steady themselves. The air was thick with the acrid stench of sweat and gunpowder, a suffocating reminder of the chaos they had narrowly escaped.

The gunfire outside was relentless, the sharp cracks of bullets piercing the air like thunder. She buried her face instinctively against his shoulder, her fingers clutching at his uniform as though he were the only solid thing in a world that had turned to quicksand.

“Pretty flower?”

His voice was a rasp, barely audible over the chaos outside. The low murmur slid past her ear like a cruel joke, an echo of something that once felt safe. The nickname—stupid, infuriating—was a relic of a time when things were simpler, when they were still whole.

Of course, he would use that nickname now.

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her eyes searching his face for something—anything—that might explain why he was here, why he hadn’t fought harder for himself, for her. But all she found was exhaustion, the same bone-deep weariness that weighed on her own soul.

“Don’t call me that,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. But the words lacked conviction, and they both knew it.

Outside, the chaos continued, but in that tiny room, time seemed to slow. The world beyond the door faded into an indistinct blur, leaving only the two of them and the unspoken weight of everything they had lost.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand brushing against the necklace that had betrayed him. His lips curled into a faint, bitter smile.

“You saved me,” he said, his tone a mix of disbelief and something else—something softer.

[the-raven-lady]

(Not) The Savior You Long For [Part 1]

[Masterlist] [My Ko-Fi]

Pairing: Night Lord (OC: Elias Rushorik) x serf!Reader [fem]

Song Inspiration: Fear Inoculum - TOOL [YouTube] [Spotify] “Enumerate all that I'm to do / Calculating steps away from you / My own mitosis / Growing through delusion from mania / Exhale, expel / Recast my tale / Weave my allegorical elegy.”

Warnings: Violence, explicit and detailed blood and gore, disgusting and disturbing imagery, terror and dread, fear of death, all of the warnings you should expect hearing the words ‘Night Lord’ bestie this is the “I love murder” legion.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: The long awaited Night Lord claiming + womb tattoo series. This part is primarily exposition and setting the scene. Also new dividers? Raven Lady's getting fancy.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @sleepyfan-blog @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual

@lemon-russ @moodymisty @dedios-of-the-word @pickpocketing-your-gender

The slosh of brown water on the floor splashes away from your washcloth, and you overextend your shoulder trying to catch it before it runs too far. Hissing at the sudden spasm, you sit back on your heels, rolling it out to soothe the ache. You’ve been on your hands and knees for what feels like far too long now, and your joints are starting to protest. It seems the other serf helping you isn’t faring much better. A glance in her direction reveals her sitting like a child, knees bent and feet flat on the floor, using the full weight of her body to scrub between the seams of the floor panels. You shake your head and return to pushing around the rusty water, struggling to remove the grime from the floor. 

The act was pointless. Everyone knew that it wouldn’t be another week before the armory would be so rancid with dried bodily fluids that a cleanup crew would have to scrub it down again, but you knew better than to make a comment on it.

The racket of raucous laughter nearby shoots ice through your veins. You and the other serf instinctually freeze at the sound, and it doesn’t even cross your mind to check on her before abandoning your post, scrambling off of the wet floor in a flash to hide behind a large crate. The cold metal at your back would shield you from view, you know, but the hammering in your chest and shuddering of your breath would be beacons for a bored astartes. Silently, you will yourself to calm down at any cost, holding your breath for so long your lungs begin to burn from the effort.

Their heavy footfalls eventually fade into the distance, off to another area of the ship. Still, you remain in place for another few minutes until you’re as certain as you’ll ever be that they’re gone. You dare not risk yourself getting caught by a group of Night Lords, if experience has taught you anything.

You’ve become jaded to the rags of tanned hide displayed proudly on their armor and the grotesque corpse art that lines the walls of Nightfall. The smell doesn’t even get to you anymore, having been surrounded by abundant death and decay for so long. Everything reeks of it. Even if you did take the time to think on the dreadful feelings that stir when you see them, your body wouldn’t be able to afford losing any more meals with how sparingly you’ve been fed.

What has never left you are the screams. The gush of blood pouring from a weeping laceration. The crack of breaking bones. Desperate cries from the poor targets of the Night Lord’s insatiable appetite for ‘entertainment’, sobs and begs for their lives— No, no, no, please! I’ll do anything, please, just let me go–!— eventually turning into pleas to be put out of their misery, shown mercy, as their captors only laugh and croon. No mercy flowed through them; they were never quick with their kills. It was all a sadistic game to feed off of the tears and terror for as long as they could. The Night Lords wouldn’t stop their fun until their playthings had been bled dry– literally or figuratively.

You peek out from around the crate, surveying the dim armory. Empty. 

The serf you had been working with was missing as well, likely sequestered off somewhere for safety. The utter silence of the room causes your gut to tremble with anxiety. It was a dangerous game to be alone: lone serfs were prime prey, and you by no means wanted to make yourself an easy target. 

With no small amount of horror, you realize it’s outside of your power to do anything about it. Your lungs deflate, and you give yourself a false reassurance before returning to your station on the floor, taking up the soiled wash rag and wringing it out into the water bucket. Pieces of slimy rehydrated skin pass over your fingers. You return to your efforts with the intent to finish as quickly as possible. The desire to flee to your cot is all-encompassing, driving you to redouble your efforts and get the job done just passably enough that you won’t be killed for it. 

A thought stops you, though. Where had your companion gone? It’s not that you particularly cared for her safety (you didn’t know her and caring is a luxury you could not afford), but to be gone without a trace was peculiar. You don’t remember hearing her footsteps, but you had also been preoccupied with yourself at the time.

You look around the empty room for anything out of place. Nothing appears to have moved since you last checked. Her brush and bucket are still on the floor, right where she had left them. You had seen her put them down there, right?

…Hadn’t you?

You dismiss the thought. She was probably still hiding somewhere, and for that, you couldn’t fault her. There was no loyalty amongst serfs of the Eighth, just an understanding that it was safer together than apart. Wanting to determine how much longer you would be here, you observe the areas the other serf had already worked.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The surfaces of the floors, storage units, and walls were visibly much cleaner than the rest, but she had done a horrible job wiping things down as she went. The steady dripping of a poorly dried surface unpleasantly fills your ears, slowly becoming the only thing you can focus on. You frown. It was amazing how you could begin to miss the ever-present dull thrum of the ship’s electrical systems when it was covered by something even slightly more annoying. 

Drip. Drip. Drip.

You shake your head and get back to working around the floor grate at the center of the room. Its placement makes it convenient to push the disgusting wash water into. As expected, the seams around the drain are compacted with hair and dried flesh, and you have to soak the mass to begin to scrape it free. The spongy texture is a nightmare to work with, but it wouldn’t be such a chore if you had some help.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Annoyed, you decide you’ve had enough of it. Water sloshes in the bucket when you wrench your washcloth to go wipe down whatever it is she had left unfinished, rising up to your feet. With some luck, you’d figure out where she had run off to. It wouldn’t come as a surprise if she had abandoned you altogether, leaving you to finish the task and fend for yourself.

A cursory glance over the bench, lockers, and racks reveals nothing out of the ordinary. They were passably clean and– perplexingly– completely dry. You ran a hand along them to be certain and, surely enough, it came away much the same. Odd. You were certain that you would find something. Continuing your search leaves more questions than answers.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Checking around a wall of storage cabinets, you carefully inspect each of the gaps for signs of water or some other liquid that could be leaking. You find nothing. 

At the end of the lockers, a shadow dances in the dim candlelight. Fear grips you for just a moment as you focus in on it, but it is much too small to be an astartes. At the realization, the chill in your blood is replaced with a simmer of frustration, and you stomp down the hall towards the figure.

Your eyes lock with the other serf’s. “Are you just hiding to–?”

You stop. It appears she had been too preoccupied with hanging from a bracket on the wall to come to your aid. The side of her neck is torn open with loose strips of muscle and connective tissue fanning over her shoulder. A glistening metal finial of Nostraman design pokes ornately through her spine and sternum, partially coagulated blood pooling at the tip.

Drip. 

Drip. 

Drip.

“About time,” a voice spits.

You’re suddenly dragged by the back of your robes, hoisted up into the air by an unseen force. The scream that leaves you tears at your vocal cords, but it’s choked off by the fabric of your neckline biting into your throat. Thrashing your head from side to side, you catch sight of a colorless face cackling, bloodied lips curled into a grin. You desperately kick your legs in an attempt to free yourself.

“Feisty little pet, aren’t we?” he asks. The Night Lord turns you around easily as you struggle, splitting red as he talks. “Good. Your friend was far more boring.”

You rake at the fabric around your neck, trying to alleviate the pressure preventing oxygen from getting to your head. The action only makes him laugh harder. “Oh, how precious. Poor little serf can’t breathe?” He tilts his head as he taunts you, and a cruel glint crosses his eye.

“How about I help with that?”

A half turn and your back slams against the wall, knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your gasp of pain ignites a malicious glee within your captor, a row of bloodied yellow teeth peeking from behind his lips. At least like this, pinned to the wall, you have the ability to catch your breath, ragged and shallow. Each rough huff eases the ache in your diaphragm.

A hand roughly snaps your head forward, forcing you to focus on the face at your front. He suffocates you with his presence, leaning in far too close. “You know,” he starts, “I had been just about ready to walk in there and drag you out myself.” Despite the melodic quality of his voice, you only feel discomfort at the astartes’s words as he uningenuously laments. “I could only stare at my masterpiece for so long.” 

Briefly, your eyes linger on the silhouetted corpse of the other chapter serf. You hadn’t even heard her scream. Hadn’t heard the attack. Hadn’t heard the bones crack when she was unceremoniously mounted on the wall. You had managed to miss every detail.

…Or your captor had been skilled enough to mask them. You shiver.

He follows your gaze, scoffing when it lands on the body. “Your buddy is as pretty as she is stupid, trying to run all the way back to the hole you serfs call home.” The image of the other serf running down the hallway and getting caught as you did passes through your mind, and you grimace at the thought of whatever game she may have suffered through to end up where she is. The sing-song cadence of his voice draws your attention back to the Night Lord in front of you, “You humans fall so easily to your emotions. Not the brightest of you lot I’ve had, but certainly the best bait.”

Bait. The word is sour in the air.  

“So unwilling to have fun–” 

She had just been bait. 

“–but you’re eager to play, aren’t you?”

You were the game.

Your blood runs cold, eyes widening as you process everything you had missed or ignored up until now. Black blurs the edges of your vision. “Oh, don’t be like that,” the Night Lord shakes his head, but you know better than to believe it. This is exactly what he wanted. “We can be great friends—” 

Self-preservation takes a hold of you. Your adrenalized brain screams to overcome, persist. In an act of desperation, your hands shoot out before you, and you manage to jab your fingers into his dark eyes and claw. The astartes snarls, ducking away and dragging you with him off of the wall as he stumbles back. With a shake of his head, he regains his senses. He growls.

“You stupid bitch!”

The Night Lord tosses you like a ragdoll, uncaring of how your head impacts the nearby bench before hitting the floor. The world spins around you. “I’ll gut you like a pig for that, you impudent rat!” he roars, ceramite boots stomping closer. His eyes are wild, red around his enlarged pupils from where you’ve managed to burst blood vessels. Uncoordinated, you scramble backwards on the floor, staring up at the approaching astartes in terror. 

This is it. This is where you die: surrounded by filth, hyperventilating on the floor as a pissed off Night Lord tortures you within an inch of your life until you perish from the stress. All for one measly act of courage. Your back hits a wall as he rounds the bench, and you find yourself unable to watch any longer as fate unfolds before you. You curl up in a ball, turning away and protecting your head with your arms, then wait for the inevitable killing strike.

And wait.

…And wait.

But the blow never comes– no white-hot stab of pain, no sting of a kick to the ribs, no blunt ache of broken bones– just a sickeningly sodden crunch of flesh and bone. A wet spray paints your back. Your tattered robes easily soak up the warm liquid, causing you to flinch from the sudden moisture. Even through the rush of confusion and fear, it doesn’t take you long to realize what it is. The scent is unmistakable.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you struggle to catch up with your surroundings. By all means, you should be dead: the newest addition to a Night Lord’s skin cloak, or at the very least in excruciating pain. But you aren’t. 

Tentatively, trembling, you withdraw your head from the cage of your arms, turning just enough to peer behind you. You gasp at the grisly sight. 

Crimson rivulets of blood drip down over massive navy blue gauntlets. A single enucleated eye dangles from the gore between its digits. The terminator, more mountain than man, holds the unmoving body of your persecutor up by what remains of his cranium and neck. It is little more than ribbons of meat now.

Bile rises in your throat. You struggle to force it back down. 

Bolted armor caked in blood– both dried and fresh, sunken deep into the recesses of the ceramite plating– gives off an aura of wrought iron and decay. The metallic tang permeates the air around him, hanging heavy in the poorly ventilated armory. His scarred skin looks sickly pale. Greasy. Dehydrated. Aside from deep black eyes that watch you as a predator observes prey, the most prominent feature on his face is a wicked scar: a tear in his upper lip that exposes maxilla and sharp teeth alike. The shock of black hair on his head still has the impression of his helmet on it.

Without so much as a sound, he had come up from behind and grabbed the smaller Night Lord by the face, yanking them back into the crux of his chestplate and pauldron with enough force to shatter the hardened skull of an astartes. 

The massive marine throws the limp corpse of his former brother aside. The impact of metal on metal causes your ears to ring as a thousand pounds of lifeless ceramite strikes the wall, immediately followed by a disgusting wet slop of pulverized brain matter spilling onto the floor. If you had been on the Nightfall for any less time, you would have screamed. The shock almost prevents you from registering that you’re being spoken to.

“Get up.”

The terminator’s voice is that of rolling thunder and coarse gravel, resonating deep within your chest and leaving your heart fluttering with trepidation. His words had been spoken no louder than conversational, and yet they had you shooting up to your feet as if they had been shouted. Your wobbly legs nearly give out beneath you from how quickly you rise from the floor, croaking a shaky, “Yes, my lord.”

He removes his helmet from where it is magnetized to his belt with a click, placing it down on the bench you had been cowering behind. The tusks on it are as long as your forearm and nearly as thick. A faint decal of a skull is painted around the red lenses, chipped and fading but almost cartoonishly cute in contrast to the rags of flesh and weathered bones decorating the rest of his armor. 

The new Night Lord doesn’t seem to find it nearly as amusing as you do. He pushes the helmet in your direction, and you clamber to catch it before it hits the ground, not wanting to incur his wrath by dropping it so soon after he had just saved your life. The metal is heavy in your arms, tusks dangerously close to puncturing your throat.

“Clean it,” he barks. 

You grab your wash rag from the floor and shake it out. You do not have to be told twice.

[Part 2]

[pestilencesingsyouforward]

How did you feel about Luka winning.. I mean it’s obvious but. Also side note how do you feel about the hate he’s getting cause till died?

I’m going insane no one understands himmmmmmmm.

He deserved to win I swear!!! This is not me saying he is a good person or the other characters didn’t deserve to win/deserved to die. I’m saying that he had no real part in this show. It’s not his fault it was a choice between life and death and he chose himself. Would you not do the same? Wouldn’t you choose yourself over strangers? He didn’t grow up with these people! He already watched his old friends die in alien stage 49, why would he even be bothered to try and spare these random ah people. Would you even care at that point? To rebel? His ass is 30 years old. He’s the model doll for his owner, it’s instilled in him to fear him. He was awake for his branding, WHICH WAS ON HIS HIP, WHICH I ONE OF THE MOST PAINFUL PLACES TO GET TATTOOED, he was made to watch and hold his shirt up for it yall. All the other contestants seemed to be sedated for their branding, so why wasn’t he? His owner actively tortured him and his experimented on him, literally CUTTING OFF HIS BLOODFLOW TO SEE HOW LONG HE’D SURVIVE. The scars on his lower chest are known for being for surgeries that involve removing organs, the liver being one of them (I think) which adds to the blood experimentation as the liver filters toxins out of the blood.

Till didn’t deserve to die any more or less than Luka. I didn’t see anyone hating on Till for killing that random ass guy? NO ONE CARED??? yes I’m aware that he used manipulation and there recent trauma to his advantage, but it was to save himself?? I myself manipulated people out of fear and self preservation- but not because I’m a bad person, because I thought I still needed too. He needs to if he wants to stay the favorite, the doll, the most expensive human not on the market. No one in this show is innocent, but that doesn’t mean we should target one guy because “he killed our yaoi pair” and “was mean to our yuri girlie”

First of all Ivan literally assaulted Till??? Like bro Till did not like that man that way. Yes he cared when he died because they were friends and because he died for him. They never would have gotten together yall. As for mizi, what he did was because he needed the advantage. He watched her go head to head with another “perfect pet” and win. He could not afford to lose, nor win by a small margin. He needed to win to the point of approval of his owner.

Im gonna stop yapping now but the haters gonna hate fr

I LOVE MY WIFE

[quantumclinicau]

Affordable tattoo removal service

All tattoo removal lasers employ waves to disintegrate the ink. However, the wavelength used distinguishes them from one another. The ink colors used for colored tattoos settle in your skin's multiple layers. When selecting an affordable tattoo removal service, you must first and foremost be aware of the technology they employ. The pigments embedded in a tattoo are broken down by laser equipment using intense energy bursts, and your body then excretes the broken-down pigments. 

[concreteangel92]

Thou Shalt Not Kill - Chapter 2

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. Reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.

Warnings: none in this chapter

Chapter Index Here

This chapter is pretty much a filler but I promise things definitely get more interesting moving forward as they are now working together on the case and the killings continue.

Again please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!!

Tags: @Ima1986 @hayleylatour @reyadawn @thatchickwiththecamera @thefallennightmare @calleyx13 @english-fucker @darling-millicent-aubrey @malerieee @ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter @softvgold @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @iluvmewwwww75 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsworld @lookwhatitcost @doomhands-jr @nojoyontheburn @poisongirl616 @bakanerd @sacredthefran

MASTERLIST

A coffee was sat down in front of you on your desk causing your eyes to go up to see Detective Davis in front of you.

“You look like you need this”

You smiled, mumbled a quick thanks and took a small slip while taking your eyes back to the gruesome scenes before you.

“You know, you can take a break detective, it won’t kill you”

“No but it could kill someone else”

Noah smirked and pulled out the chair in front of your desk.

“Come on. 15 minutes”

You stared into his dark brown eyes and sighed while slumping back into your chair.

“Fine. 15 minutes and then back to it, we can’t afford to waste a single second”

You pushed the photos and various papers away and held your coffee in your hands. You looked over at your new partner, it had been two days since you’d been assigned with each other, so far you had been working together well. You’d brought him up to speed on every last detail of all the killings and had started to put together a profile of the killer, that was proving to be more difficult.

“So detective Davis….”

“Noah, call me Noah please”

“Noah….what brought you to LA?”

Noah took a slip of his coffee and leant forward onto your desk.

“It’s the city of angels right? Who doesn’t want to come here”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the irony of his statement.

“Found any angels yet detective?”

Noah smirked slightly and never let his gaze fall from yours.

“Maybe”

You cleared your throat and took another sip of your drink, you looked over your new partner, taking in his many tattoos, it was refreshing to see a detective as covered as he appeared to be, you could see colour peaking out from his white shirt collar and on the back of his hands and fingers. You wondered how far they went over his body.

“Let’s keep it professional” a statement meant for both you, Noah definitely wasn’t shy to flirt with you, even if it was subtle. Something you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted by.

Noah chuckled, still not removing his eyes from yours - he certainly wasn’t afraid to hold eye contact you noted, something that proved he was very self aware and confident.

You couldn’t help but psychoanalyse Noah, he was very hard to read, he’d come across friendly enough while you’d been working together but he was definitely a closed book. Something that you wanted to break through.

“Ironically I doubt you’ll find any angels here Noah, fallen angels maybe, but this city isn’t known for its innocent.”

“Well it’s probably more exciting then where I’m from back home”

“What made you move then?” You couldn’t help but press the question again.

“Most of my family have passed away and I fancied a change, see what exciting prospects the city offered me”

“Well exciting is one word for this I suppose”

“I live for a challenge detective”

You finished your coffee and smiled.

“Then I’m happy to say that this case should be that for you”

You pushed your mug to the side and pulled back the case files you’d already spent hours and hours going over.

Noah leant forward and picked up a file.

“You know, I’m really impressed that you figured this out, that they were all connected, I doubt anyone would have seen that”

You felt your cheeks go warm.

“Thank you…someone would have seen it if it wasn’t me however”

“After how many more deaths though? To have seen it this early, that’s raw talent detective, don’t sell yourself short”

You smiled and brushed some of your hair behind your ear, the blush still evident on your face when Noah continued.

“Are you religious at all detective?”

“No. Never been one for fairytales myself”

Noah smiled “ahh but sometimes they make for great bedtime stories”

“I believe in the here and now, what I can see and hear and piece together. I don’t have time for bedtime stories detective Davis”

Noah let out a small laugh “I understand that. My family were religious but I never took to it, as you said, I believe in what I can see, hear, smell….touch. Somethings I don’t think god would approve of”

Your eyes went up to his again catching his underline meaning and you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

“I’m sure we have all done things that god wouldn’t like, we are in LA for a start”

You were both startled by your phone going off.

“Detective Y/L/N”

The smile was pulled off your face as you looked at Noah.

“We’ll be right there” you put the phone back on the hook. “There’s been another murder”

Chapter 3

[jadeschambers]

Intro: Trueform!Sukuna x Isekai!gn!reader

(reader has no gender but has f genitals.)

Parings: Ryomen Sukuna

Tags: Slow burn, eventual Smut, god/godess demigod reader, sukuna needs his own warnings, huge!size kink (that man is like 8 ft tall), mentioned cannibalism, noncon? (just beware, reader ❤️ him/ don’t read if it makes u uncomfy), cunnilingus, breast play. Some cursing n crack.

original idea, chapter 1

Winter in japan a was harsh punishment served by the mother of all to those who could not afford the kindness of warmth. everything was pure white, preserved by the snow that fell from the sky above.

Sloshing of water could be heard against the stones that Sukuna rested on. A towel resting on his forehead as he leaned back. The king of curses almost looked nearly peaceful.

“My lord, if I may, what are your plans with the Gojo clan?”

Uraume asks from behind him. Sukuna raised his head, cracking his shoulders. Before he could open his mouth to respond to his subordinates question, the loudest crash known to man was heard right outside his estate. Sukuna removed the towel from his eyes, unaffected by the disrupting noise.

“Go check what that was, and report back to me”

The curse scowled, the Gojo clan had been on him for years now, as the most powerful sorcerer of his era he seemed like a target for nearly all sorcerers. but in Sukuna‘s point of view everyone was a prey to him.

Uraume stepped out from the shadows. The ponds that once trickled with fresh spring water and koi fish were now gone, instead lied a huge crater. Uraume could feel their eye twitch in irritation. The Gojo clan have never directly tried to strike Sukuna’s estate before so what the fuck was this?

As they stared in contemplation, they however did not notice the figure behind them slowly stalking towards them.

You could feel your stomach churning as you were tossed down the portal, being blinded completely. before you could ground yourself, the entirety of your body felt like it was being crushed and ripped into a hundred shreds. what the hell was happening?

When you opened your eyes, you were in a completely different place, the buildings looked..really old. Everything around were all trees and fields. The surroundings were completely different, yet it seemed like Inazuma’s architecture came alive around you. Climbing out of the ditch, you cautiously stood. Using the remaining energy you had left you conjured your pole arm, ready to strike. Looking around, there were carts, and horses. No cars, not even bikes. Were you somehow sent back in time?

The hairs on the back of my neck stood as you quickly hid behind a tree. Although you were heavily injured, your senses were still keen. A person appeared right as you hid myself, wearing robes and a pair of geta’s, So you were right, it wasn’t currently the modern day era.

Slowly standing on your hind legs, pole arm tightly secured in your hands ready to strike. Just before you could land strike on the white haired individual two large hands lifted you into the air. As you screamed and struggled, your sight was blinded by a thick cloth.

“h-hey! what the fuck! let me go!”

you squirmed and struggled, the pole arm once in your hands dropped to the ground in a failed attempt to strike.

“And what do we have here? A little sorcerer spy sent by the Gojo clan?” A deep unfamiliar voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Gojo clan? What?! No! I just want to get back home!” the bindings around your wrists broke as you ripped the blindfold off your eyes. looking up to see possibly the biggest, scariest man you’ve ever laid eyes on, your feet stumbled. He had four massive arms, and his skin was layered in black tattoos. the muscles in your jaw struggled to contain your shock.

“what are you?” you whispered, wide eyed and in awe. The man smirked smugly, crossing two of his arms against his chest.

“Oh? enamored already?”

You shut my mouth and glared at him. Before Sukuna could even blink, you were on top of him, the shark blade inches away from his face. Uraume quickly tried to pull you off but Sukuna raised his hand towards them. He was extremely intrigued by his new visitor.

“I-I dont know who the fuck you are- but im not… not trying to hurt anyone here! I just woke up and found myself in-“ as you turned your head, the now gaping crater by the looks of it was possibly a pond.

“I woke up and found myself here”

The man slowly sat up, placing his hand on your shoulders. you slowly lowered my weapon, giving him a confused look. Was he not going to kill you?

“You are not from here.” From the looks of it, Sukuna could tell that you were definitely feisty, maybe a little trouble some. Something was off about you, from the clothing you wore to the way you looked it was as if you weren’t from here. But the king of curses could handle anything, right? Lowering your guard, he looked like he didnt want to hurt you, and you desperately needed help on how to get back— but maybe not from him.

Getting you into his estate was exasperating. Not only were you stubborn, but you were also abnormally strong. “Little one I assure you we dont bite.” sukuna insisted as he walked towards the large double doors. “Are you even human?” trying to match his huge strides, you quickly caught up him, the pole arm once gripped in your hands disappearing into dust. Sukuna cocked a brow, smirking at the quite stupid question. So you really weren’t from around here.

To say his estate was huge would be an understatement, it was fit for a king. Appearing in front of you were presumably servants of his, and by the looks of it they were not human. Maybe Sukuna wasn’t human? Many had disfigured faces, and they smelled of rot. Only some that kneeled in front of you looked human. you scrunched your face, avoiding looking at any of them.

“Whats wrong? Never seen a curse before?” He chuckled darkly, crossing his huge arms. You rolled your eyes, his world was getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

“You have four arms” you retorted, observing the way his muscles bulged through the fabric of his tunic. Did he really have two sets of everything or.. Shaking that thought of mind, a hand immediately covered your mouth to hide the immature smirk on your face.

“Have you a place to stay?”

He turned to look at you, he was so tall he was basically towering over. you stepped back, shaking your head at his question. Obviously not, but as someone invited into another’s home manners were essential. Sukuna smirked, oh was he going to have fun with me.

“Please, make yourself at home.” Sukuna turned and walked away, leaving you alone. Although he and his world was extremely weird, he was welcoming enough to allow your presence. “w-wait! you’re letting me stay here?!” it was as if the sun disappeared like the clouds became hungry. “what kind of curse would i be to leave a little lamb like you all alone?” Oh sukuna was going to have fun.

guys this is so shit 💩 bc I totally forgot all abt this ☹️

@maskedpacific @kbirdieee2540