#Gore House Productions

[gbhbl]

EP Review: Trauamatomy - Triumph Of Enslavement (Gore House Productions)

Delivering the kind of savage and sickening heaviness that leaves you with a headache, a sore neck, aching limbs, and the strong feeling of having been well and truly violated. Sounds fun, right?

Brutal death metal enthusiasts rejoice! Traumatomy, the international band renowned for their slamming brutality, is set to release their latest EP, ‘Triumph of Enslavement’, on July 5th, 2024, via Gore House Productions. Get in, make a s**t-ton of noise, wreck some bodies, and get out. That’s the mantra of this EP, and the mindset of Traumatomy, who deliver five of the nastiest and brutalising…

[denver-heavy-metal-society]

Torn The Fuck Apart from Kansas, Corrosive Form Official Music Video. From their new album Kill.Bury.Repeat. Video courtesy of Gore House Productions. 

[thethcministry]

[thecranewivesrpf]

they should invent like. A way to kill yourself without dying

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Wendigo Disorder.

Pairing: Yandere!Sukuna x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.0k.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Cannibalism, No Curse AU, Chef Sukuna AU, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Kidnapping, Gore, Physical + Psychological Abuse, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Prolonged Captivity. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

Sukuna kept the basement door locked.

That was the only part of his rustic, oversized house that was off-limits to you. For the first few weeks, he’d kept you either collared and leashed to the headboard of his bed if he was home and locked in a roughly human-sized dog kennel when he wasn’t, but now, you were allowed to wander freely, even if he still kept deadbolts on the windows and doors. Occasionally, he’d lock you out of the kitchen while he was working on a new recipe or tell you to stay in your bedroom while he talked to his every-mysterious “business partners”, but for a kidnapper, Sukuna was surprisingly trusting. The basement door was the only thing that was always locked – and you should know. You checked the knob at least twice a day.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of you escaping, or hurting yourself, or god forbid, hurting him. Even in the early days, before you’d proved you weren’t going to run away, he seemed to be more concerned that you might be a nuisance than that you might be any kind of threat. The only thing you really knew was that the basement was where he kept his meat locker, and while you were curious, you were sure that wasn’t what he was keeping you away from. Sukuna had you sample everything he made. If he was going to start withholding food, then he would’ve had to—

“Oi, brat.” You felt his elbow jab into your side, drawing you out of your thoughts. “Quit daydreaming and try this.”

You glanced towards him, pouting as you straightened your back and repositioned yourself on the kitchen counter. You would’ve been more comfortable to sit on the floor, or better yet, at the table in the next room, but he liked to have you as close as possible whenever he was cooking. Not that you’d have it any other way. “You’re always so mean to me,” you sighed, in a pitchy mock whine. “One day, I’m not going to want to spend time with you at all.”

“As if. You can’t get enough of me.” He rolled his eyes, turning back to the stove top. Currently, he was working on something for his restaurant – a variation on karaage, a spread of vegetables and meat (pork, maybe, but you weren’t entirely sure) sitting on a cutting board off to the side, a greased skillet waiting next to it. His attention was on the broth simmering in the pot in front of him, though, which his ingredients would strew in before being fried. He’d been toying with it for the better part of an hour, and you’d sat diligently within arm’s reach, only slightly motivated by the fact that he’d threatened to break both your ankles if you tried to move.

Your sample turned out to be a piece of broccoli – likely chosen to best compliment the flavor of the broth – and you accepted it eagerly, letting Sukuna bring his chopsticks to your lips and feed you by-hand. Of course, the flavor was heavenly, and of course, you took long seconds to savor it, letting your eyes fall shut as you chewed and swallowed. Sukuna watched you intently, his dark eyes never leaving your lips. It wasn’t a secret that his favorite part of you had always been your mouth. You didn’t mind – his cooking was the only thing you’d ever liked about him.

Praise would’ve been pointless. It was a given that anything he made would be the best thing you’d ever tasted, so you tried to focus on something more productive. “It’s… salty,” you surmised, pursing your lips. “Did you use your…?”

“Cum?” Sukuna finished. “Just a tablespoon. ‘m surprised you can even taste it.”

A month ago, you might’ve recoiled, refused to eat, but now, it was all you could do to pretend to be surprised.

You watched intently as he added another cup of water, another round of herbs all kept in mismatched, unlabeled jars. Your heart skipped a beat as he finally reached towards the cutting board, but he pulled away at the last minute, turning to you, instead.

“’kuna,” you whined as he slid into the space between your legs, planting a large hand on either side of you. “I was actually hoping to eat sometime tonight, y’know.”

“I know, I know.” And yet, he didn’t seem concerned, chuckling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into the base of your throat. “You’ll get to, just sit pretty for a little while longer.”

“But—” He cut you off with another kiss, this one immediately followed by feeling of his pointed canines burrowing into tender skin. You flinched into yourself, and Sukuna groaned into your neck, drawing back just far enough to run the flat of his tongue over the twin puncture marks.  Your hands shot to his shoulders, but you resisted the urge to push him away. Even if you did, it was already too late; you could feel something stiff pressing against the inside of your thigh, hear him murmuring something low and affectionate into the dip of your shoulder. Resigned, you leaned back against the kitchen cabinets and shut your eyes.

At least, if he got this over with quickly enough, you might still get to eat.

~

Your first impression of Sukuna, unsurprisingly, was that he looked more like a body builder than a chef.

Calling him massive would’ve been an understatement. He stood a head above you, with biceps as thick as your head and a chest so defined, you could see the outline of his definition through the thin fabric of his black (presumably not Health and Safety compliant) tank top. He had piercings, too – twin studs underneath his bottom lip, lining the bridge of his nose – and tattoos, black lines forming intricate patterns across his jawline and bands around his wrist. You already had your back to the concrete wall, but you pressed yourself against it, regardless, eager to put as much space between you and him as possible. Sukuna remained where he was, perpetually unimpressed.

His introduction was brief, succinct. “You’re the little bitch Uraume sent out?”

“I… I think so?” You genuinely weren’t sure. The waitress had only told you that the owner wanted to talk to you outside, which you hadn’t been surprised by. It was your fourth time coming in that week, since his restaurant didn’t do takeout and the last person to order more than they could eat in one sitting was promptly and proudly taken outside and beaten half to death. You couldn’t risk that, not when more than half of your meals came from his shop.  “I’m sorry, I just—Are you the chef? I really like—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He took half a step toward you, and you glanced down the alleyway behind his restaurant. One end was cut off with a chain-link fence, and while the other side opened up onto a proper road, it was still more than fifty feet away. You never would’ve made it, not with someone like Sukuna chasing you. “Who sent you? The Gojo clan?”

Sent you? You had no idea what he was talking about – if you had someone to fund your addiction, you wouldn’t have to resign yourself the cheapest section of his overpriced menu. You opened your mouth, but must’ve taken longer to answer than you realized. You blinked, and suddenly, his hand was planted on the wall beside your head, his body only a hair’s width from yours. He had to tilt his head forward to look at you, which while not surprising, did little to comfort you. “Answer the fucking question.” And then, when you shrunk into yourself at his tone. “I swear to fucking Christ—Did he tell you what happens to the people who piss me off? Because you’re about to—”

“I can’t eat anything else!”

You were just as surprised as he was to hear your own voice. Still, you did your best to recover quickly, falling into a stiff bow as deep as the confined space would allow. With your eyes fixed on the pavement, you forced yourself to go on, to say something that would stop the owner of your favorite restaurant from murdering you in the alleyway behind that aforementioned restaurant. “I—I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time, but—but a classmate brought me here a few months ago, and—and I haven’t been able to eat anywhere else since. I can come in less often, if that’s what you’re bothered by, but please.” You forced yourself to inhale, to breathe. “Please, don’t ban me.”

At that, Sukuna broke. You didn’t dare to look at him, but you could hear the smirk in his voice, the airy laugh lacing his tone, as if he found something about your desperation funny. He did, obviously. You’d quickly realize that Sukuna found most things about you funny. “You think I’m going to… What was it? Ban you?”

You nodded furiously. “I—I know you kicked out that salaryman last week, and a couple students the week before. They were all regulars, but I haven’t seen any of them since.” It was a rushed explanation, only half-coherent, but you still tried to go on, bowing your head. “I—I can’t cook, and I can’t eat anywhere else, anymore. If you ban me, I really don’t have a lot of other options, so—”

“You can go back to your table.”

It was your turn to blink, this time, to startle. You didn’t straighten your back, not until you felt Sukuna’s hand on your shoulder, heard the grin in his voice sharpen. “Really?”

“Mhm. Don’t order, I’ll send something over. And you’re going to stay until closing.” And then, as you stared up at him with as much gratitude you’d ever felt, “We’re going to grab a couple drinks after I close up shop. Try to think of a few more compliments, before then.”

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded regardless. After scurrying back to your table before Sukuna could change his mind, a white-haired woman who you’d never seen working the front of house before brought you a meat dish so rare, you could’ve sworn it hadn’t been cooked at all.

It went without saying that you savored every bite.

~

“Needy ass brat.”

His bicep dug into your stomach where you were slung over his shoulder, your legs dangling uselessly was your hands clawed half-heartedly at his back. You weren’t really upset that he’d caught you – you knew it’d only be a matter of time the moment you slipped out of bed – but it was frustrating just how quickly he’d come to get you. You’d barely gotten to the kitchen, let alone the fridge.

Your mind drifted back to the basement door – to the meat locker. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you decided that you would try to pick the lock tomorrow, after he’d left for the day. Whatever punishment he’d dull out would be worth it, if you could actually get in.

Unceremoniously, you were dumped onto the floor of his bedroom, left to shamble to your knees as he collapsed onto the foot of the bed. You moved to stand, but Sukuna was quick to catch you by the hair and force you back down. “Disobedient, too,” he muttered, his voice still rough with exhaustion. “Tell me what you were trying to do before I decide you can’t be trusted with the ability to walk.”

You sulked, letting out a shallow sigh and resting your cheek against the inside of his knee. “I’m just hungry,” you explained, feigning thoughtlessness. It was more or less true. You were eating better than you ever had before, and yet, your stomach had never felt emptier. “I was gonna come back, after I got something.”

Sukuna chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. You melted into his thigh, eager to keep his mood light, sentimental. “I feed you three gourmet meals a day, baby. Don’t act like you’re starving.”

“But I am.” You sighed, stared up at him with your doe-like expression. “I’ve really been craving meat, lately, ‘specially that stuff you keep downstairs. Can you make it again tomorrow?”

“We’ll see. I don’t want you getting spoiled, and ‘sides, I’ve gotta save some of it for the shop.” You frowned, sinking deeper into his thigh, and Sukuna sighed, raking his nails over your scalp. “But, maybe, if I got some motivation from my little helper…”

He trailed off, and suddenly, it was your turn to play oblivious. “Well, yeah, I’d obviously help,” you chirped, mimicking his smile. “I’m not very good in the kitchen, though, so you can’t blame me if—”

“That’s not what I want from you, babydoll.”

You felt something tighten in your chest. It wasn’t painful, but the way his fingers tugged at your hair was.

He didn’t pull. You tried to be thankful for that, but it was hard to be thankful for anything when his free hand was already at the waistband of his sweats, freeing the semi-stiff cock formerly hidden beneath the grey fabric. You frowned, but didn’t pull away. “How are you already hard?” And then, as you settled onto your knees, “You woke up, like, two minutes ago.”

“Always gotta have something nice n’ warm ready for my baby.” Rather than let your whining deter him, he focused on drawing you into his lap, encouraging you to lean into him, to brace yourself on his muscular thighs. Controlling as always, Sukuna guided you gently towards his cock. You half-expected him to force you down at the last minute, to laugh as he suffocated you on his length, but of course, he didn’t. He wasn’t that kind.

He wouldn’t let you play such a passive role in your own dehumanization.

You moved as quickly as you could without making your unwillingness entirely transparent, taking the head of his cock past your lips and running the flat of your tongue over his slit (already leaking, as if this couldn’t get any worse). You couldn’t pretend to be some pure-of-heart, dewy eyed virgin, not when most of your mornings were started with Sukuna thrusting three fingers lazily into your cunt and most of your nights ended with his face buried between your thighs, but you never seemed to be able to completely brace yourself for just how wide you had to open your mouth to take him, just how mindful you had to be to not let your teeth scrape against his shaft as you struggled to get past his tip. Like everything else about Sukuna, his cock was too fucking big. Not that he seemed to care.

If anything, Sukuna seemed to like the way you gagged around him. As you wrapped a hand around his base, pumping over the parts of his shaft you couldn’t swallow and trying to ignore the fact that your fingers didn’t touch, you heard him groan, felt his grip tighten on your hair, and knew he was staring at you, drinking in the sight of you choking on his cock with as little shame as you had dignity. “Good girl,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Are you gonna start moving, or does the spoiled princess need a little help?”

‘Help’ meant him holding your head in-place while he fucked your skull. Resisting the urge to shake your head, you bobbed shallowly, the veined underside of his cock gliding over your tongue as a knot of ache formed in either corner of your jaw, the strain already too painful to ignore. You could taste his arousal in the back of your throat, feel him throbbing against the hollows of your cheeks, but you forced yourself to dip your head lower, to take him deeper, to at least attempt to match the stuttering pace of your hand with that of your mouth. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him distracted. His hand drifted from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, his thumb pushing rough patterns into your skin. “Still can’t believe I get to keep such a sweet thing all to myself.” It was almost cruel, how composed he sounded while saliva dripped from the corner of your mouth. “It would’ve been a shame if I’d fucked up and done something really mean, that first day. I don’t think I would’ve gone through with it, though. As soon as I got a good look, all I wanted was to see what that pretty mouth looked like wrapped around my cock.”

His breath hitched, his hips bucked, and you audibly gagged as the blunt head of his cock slammed into the back of your throat. You jerked away on reflex, but Sukuna didn’t let you go far. His hand wrapped around your neck as he rolled his hips, forcing another inch of his cock down your throat, then another, until it was all you could do to blink away the tears quickly forming in your eyes. Your hand fell away from his shaft to scramble and claw at his thighs, but if Sukuna mourned the loss of contact, you couldn’t tell. The only thing you could make out was his cock pulsing against the convulsing walls of your throat and his voice, as distant as it was deafening. “Fuck,” he sighed, then again, “Fuck. Desperate little bitch. My desperate little bitch. Can’t go three fucking seconds without needing me to take care of you, isn’t that right?”

Your only response was a desperate, keening whine – mostly muffled by the twitching object lodged in your airway. Rather than a plea for mercy, Sukuna seemed to take it as confirmation, taking you by the back of your head and forcing you that much further, that much closer. “Fucking—Take it.”

He didn’t give you a chance to spit, let alone pull away. Your nose brushed against the defined muscle of his abdomen as you felt something bitter and searing flood down your throat. Calling it swallowing would’ve been too generous.

That night, you vomited twice before letting Sukuna carry you to bed. Despite everything, you would dream only of the taste of fresh blood and burnt meat.

~

Despite everything, you only saw the kitchen of Sukuna’s restaurant once. He expected you at your usual table almost every day, invited you out for drinks at one of his classy, dimly lit lounges (a severe juxtaposition to his own hole-in-the-wall establishment) nearly as often as that, but he only let you see his back of house once, late at night, hours after closing.

Coincidentally, that was also the night he took you away.

Admittedly, it was difficult to remember why you’d been called back to the kitchen. That section of your day was blurry, distant, fuzzy around the edges from the moment you stepped into his shop to the second you woke up alone in a bed you didn’t recognize, the smell of sweat and cigarette smoke thick in the air.  Still, you could remember the feeling of chilled titanium pressing into your back, the heat of Sukuna’s body above you, what he’d looked like as you stared up at him from below. You remembered thinking, possibly for the first time, that you hated everything about him, from his inflated ego to his resonating voice to his awful, conniving smirk, and realizing that you’d never be able to leave him.

You also remembered the white-haired server being there – standing in the doorway, her expression one of pleasant indifference as she explained something grotesque and nonsensical to Sukuna, either oblivious to or uncaring of how deeply he was buried inside of you. You watched her lips move, but only a few words broke through the haze – disposal and witness, nothing that made any sense. You remembered noticing how pretty she was, and thinking that it was a shame she wasn’t the owner, rather than Sukuna.

You could remember asking for something, and Sukuna humming in response before something was shoved past your lips – heady and thick and raw. You tasted blood on your lips, felt yourself choke, and then, everything was dark.

~

“Oh, sweetheart.”

You should’ve known he’d gotten home. You’d been able to make out the sound of his footsteps through the floor above, been able to feel the light spill onto your back as the basement door and its useless, mangled knob were pushed open, but it wasn’t until you heard his voice that you could bring yourself to care. Even then, your hold on the raw chunk of half-frozen meat only tightened, nails digging into the ruddy, bleeding tissue. As much as you didn’t want to put a name to it, it would’ve been impossible to deny what it was – to ignore what you’d seen inside of the meat locker, to pretend you hadn’t recognized the disassembled bodies hanging on rusted-over hooks, to act like you could mistake the taste still heavy on your tongue for that of pig, or cow, or some other, inferior animal. It would’ve been useless, even if the temptation was still there. It would’ve been futile.

Almost as futile as trying to deny that it was the best fucking thing you’d ever choked down.

You heard the tell-tale creak of Sukuna starting to descend the staircase, and before you could stop yourself, dug your teeth into the brunt of the sinew, tearing off the largest mouthful you were capable of and swallowing it whole. You dipped your head for another bite, but it was too late – Sukuna was already behind you, his hand already wrapped around the collar of your shirt, your body already being jerked back and away from your hard-earned prize. You tried to dig your nails into the thick of the fat, to stuff the last of it past your lips, but with an airy chuckle and a quirk of his wrist, the cut was torn away and discarded just as thoughtlessly.

For the first time, you snapped towards Sukuna, your teeth bared and your eyes narrowed into something furious, something hostile. “Why would you—” And then, letting out a miserable sob and turning away from him, “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break anything, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and then—”

“I get it, baby. You aren’t in trouble.”

“And then I found something heavy enough to break the knob and I couldn’t stop thinking about—” You cut yourself off suddenly, letting out a sharp exhale. “…I’m not?”

“No, princess, you’re not.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve mistaken his tone for something gentle. His gaze fell to your chest, and for the first time, you noticed the blood dripping down your chin, staining the fabric of your top. “We should get you cleaned up, though. You’ll only feel shittier when it dries.”

You didn’t protest as he pulled you into his arms and carried you upstairs, out of the basement, away from the meat locker. You didn’t say anything as he set you on his bed, your back leaning against the headboard, and eased your top over your head, replacing it with one of his own, and produced a damp cloth from the nearest bathroom. Gingerly, he cleaned the gore off your face, never rushing through a stroke or applying more pressure than was absolutely necessary, stopping often to kiss your forehead or the bridge of your nose. You were sniffling by the time he finished, crying by the time he left the room, and sobbing when he came back – a bowl in hand with a pair of chopsticks laid across its rim.

Its contents were predictable: meat, pan-grilled in thin slices and, as far as you could tell, left unseasoned. “I’ll make some rice when you’re done,” Sukuna went on, as you struggled with the chopsticks. “To balance it out. You’ll need something to take the edge off.”

You nodded vacantly, accepting the bowl greedily despite your shaking hands. It was better raw – the flavor richer, the taste fresher – but you weren’t in a place to complain, not when it was so much easier when you didn’t have to gnaw and tear like some wild, starving animal. Not that you weren’t eating like one – keeping the rim of the bowl pressed into your chin, never letting more than a second lapse between one mouthful and the next. You only paused when you felt the mattress dip, noticed Sukuna positioning himself between your legs, and but he only smiled, only rested a hand on your knee. “Keep going,” he urged. “It’d be a waste to let it get cold, right?”

“I don’t like this.” Your voice was still unsteady, prone to cracking, but it was true. You didn’t want him to pretend to be nice. “I’ve never really liked you. I’d leave, if I could. There hasn’t been a moment since you kidnapped me that I haven’t spent fantasizing about getting out and fixing what you’ve done to me.”

“You’re just saying that to hurt my feelings, doll.” You were, but it wasn’t. Slowly, he lowered himself onto his chest, one hand spreading your thighs apart while the other toyed lazily with the hem of your shorts. You felt him lean against your thigh, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into the tender flesh. You’d gained weight during your time with him – not much, just a few pounds, a little plush to soften your harsher edges. You weren’t sure whether or not to care. “I’m just proud, that’s all. Don’t you want me to be proud of you?”

You didn’t want anything from him. Your appetite gone, you placed the bowl haphazardly on the bedside table, watching through clouded eyes as Sukuna removed your shorts entirely, taking agonizing seconds to guide them down your legs before letting them drop to the floor below. You expected your panties to follow, but Sukuna only settled into place, dragging the pad of his thumb over the length of your slit, pausing to draw slow, idle circles into your clit through the silken fabric. It went without saying that he picked out your clothes, even if he rarely had the patience to tell you exactly what to wear. You were allowed to choose your outfit day-to-day, but it didn’t matter. It couldn’t, not when your entire closet was suited to his tastes.

His hands curled around your thighs. You felt his tongue before you realized what he was doing – wet and warm and thick, his saliva soaking through the thin material and infecting you, spoiling you. You tried to ignore it, to remind yourself that you should be used to this, used to him, but this just… wasn’t what you were used to. Normally, you could expect him to be cruel, degrading, impulsive, but tonight, he seemed more than happy to bury his face between your thighs and play lover – albeit, a lover who still must’ve known he was unwanted. A lover who must’ve known you would’ve preferred a captor.

Your panties were dragged to the side, his tongue immediately finding your cunt. He took his time, laving over your entrance, coaxing reactions out of you despite your best attempts to dig your teeth into your tongue and hold back. He knew too much about you. He’d had too much time to learn. Heat pooled in your core, leaking out through your pussy, and Sukuna lapped it up like a fine wine – his thumb finding your clit as his tongue traced patterns into your cunt, and—

And oh, god, you were crying again, tears dripping down your cheeks despite your pitiful attempts to brush them away. Sukuna’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you felt him smile against the inside of your thigh, his tongue dipping shallowly into your cunt once, twice before he pulled away, straightening his back. His hand quickly replaced his mouth, two thick fingers thrusting into pussy with a humiliating sort of ease, spreading apart and curling against you and filling his bedroom with those embarrassing, wet, vile noises you’d never been able to stand. He didn’t seem to mind, holding your gaze as he spoke. “When did you put it together?”

“I—I don’t know what you’re—”

“Don’t play dumb.” And then, as his thumb traced harsh circles into your clit, “You knew what you were looking for. What gave it away? The texture? The smell?”

Your mouth opened, but you didn’t answer, a fractured moan falling from your lips in the place of anything more intelligent. Sukuna hummed, adding a third digit, and you spilled open in an instant. “Your restaurant,” you managed, the words rushed and sloppy. “No matter what I ordered, the meat would always taste the same. At first, I—I thought you were just being cheap, but then I noticed how often your regulars would just suddenly stop coming in, and—”

You were cut off by your own miserable, keening whine; his calloused fingers catching on something tender and vulnerable inside of you and taking advantage of it. “And you kept coming in,” he finished, hushing your whimpering. “Loyal little brat. Uraume wanted to get rid of you, but I knew I was right to take you in.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. You were too busy moving your hips against his hand, seeking out the pleasure that your body craved and your mind rejected. Sukuna took pity on you, cooing as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap, supporting you as the movements of his hand turned short, erratic, as he edged you closer and closer and closer to your climax. You came undone with a sob, burying your face in his chest, and Sukuna was kind enough to nurse you through it, to hold you against him as your body crumpled and your poor, beaten soul seemed to give out entirely.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “I think,” he said, bowing his head and running his tongue over your cheek. “It’s time for you to learn to cook.”

You couldn’t think, but you didn’t have to. There was only one thing you ever would’ve said.

“I’d like that.”

[novaandmali]

ARTISTS WANTED! 

We’re making a super gay super inclusive TAROT DECK!!! We want every card to be in a fantasy world and featuring at least one LGBT person. We’re looking for up to 78 artists, potentially one artist per card, but we may choose to have some artists do up to 2 cards. 

Applications open October 10th at 1pm Eastern time and will remain open until October 13th at noon eastern OR we reach an application cap of 1000 entries.

Apps will be open for 24 hours minimum.

The application will NOT be available until that date - we will post it here, instagram (nova_mali), bluesky, and tumblr (novaandmali). Please be sure to set an alarm and get your application in ASAP - we will not be able to take any applications through email, dms, or after they close.

A tentative schedule:

Results emailed to EVERYONE on October 15th.

Sketch due Nov 31

Finals due Jan 15

Kickstarter running Jan 1-31

We are looking for up to 78 artists (who MUST be 18+ years old by October 15th) to join us to create a piece of digital art and/or merch. Traditional art is also accepted if scanned or photographed at a professional level.

We're looking specifically to increase the diversity of our artists, both in regards to race and gender - we want to be including all kinds of voices. Same thing with our art - we're looking to increase the variety of cultures, body types, and disabilities represented.

This is a PAID job. We’ve paid in the range of 200-300 for similar projects in the past, based on a set contract amount plus anything left over after production and shipping, split between everyone. Example: $150 in the contract and $100 extra per artist share. The additional amount will depend on how successful the Kickstarter campaign is.

Your app will ask you what you’re thinking about creating. This is not a final answer but we want to know what vibe, what era, etc what you’re thinking about. You’ll get the option to pick 2 suits you’re interested in working in, and 1-2 cards you very much do not want to illustrate.

The application will include things like: a link to your portfolio (instagram and twitter are NOT accepted as a portfolio) and if you are interested in designing any merch as well.

We also ask for a short artist bio: think twitter style - short and sweet. Please don’t talk down about yourself or your skills - talk yourself up! Make me excited to see your art!!

Reminder about our applications: PLEASE do not submit porn or gore in your highlight art. Blood and nudity are ok, porn and gore please no.

Hopefully it goes without saying but we do not accept NFT art or AI generated art.

About us: we’re two non-binary lesbians who really love cats and gay art. We’ve enjoyed our work as a queer publishing house and can’t wait to do more! We’ve completed 9 projects including tarot cards and books! Some of our previous works include classics but make it gay, And They Were Monsters, and Cover Me Queer.

Check out our work at www.novaandmali.com . 

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 1 -

Prologue : Next Part : Not edited : 3.6k words : M.List

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

"How was work?" You asked, putting your coffee cup filled with tea down on the coffee table aside from the couch. Not looking up from the chapter book that rested in your hands.

A sigh was all that left his lips as you heard him kick his boots off and hang his keys next to the door.

"That bad?" you asked, looking up at the ash blonde who was now rubbing his face roughly as he made his way over to the couch you were laid across. He hummed in response. With you laid across the couch, back rested against the armrest, you pulled your feet in to make room for him. He sat down roughly, instantly sinking all of his weight into the couch. He looked at you briefly, "You don't gotta do that y'know?"

"Do what?" you peered at him confused. He just rolled his eyes lazily and grabbed your legs to stretch them out again, placing them over his lap. He didn't look back at you, just closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting his hands on your calves. It was hard to mask the surprise on your face, normally after a rough day he would take a shower and prefer to be alone for the night, maybe making dinner for the two of you and watching a show. Yet he hardly ever asked for physical touch.

"Do you want to watch a show?" you asked, trying to determine the type of help he wanted.

He sat silent for a moment, "How was your day?" He leaned his head to the side, looking at you.

You fought over the questions that came up, confused about why he chose you as a topic. But you chose against bringing them up, "Just did some quick testing for new equipment, I'm about to be finished with your new gloves too. They just finished the first stage of testing," you smiled, hoping the good news would make him happy. After all, he asked for new gloves close to a month ago.

He just stared at your face for a while before you realized he wanted you to continue. The words caught in your mouth as you analyzed the look on his face for a moment. Thinking that maybe this was the 'look' your close friends always talked about. The face that showed how truly in love he was with you.

"I also finished Z's stuff," Izuku, "so today was a productive day. Yet it was easy too, all I really needed to do was your stuff and his. After that it was just paperwork," you added on. Picking up the throw pillow on the couch and placing it in your lap to play with the tassels on the edges. Avoiding the overwhelming look he was giving you. "Came home only an hour ago, showered, and picked up my book," you looked down at the book that was placed on the couch beside you, where you placed it when Katsuki sat down.

You normally came home an hour before him. He always sent you a text saying he'd be home soon, so you packed up from work and headed home after receiving it. It was one of the best perks about being head of your technical support department. It maximized your time with him. Leaving the house shortly after him every day, and coming home only an hour before him. Kept you productive and caught up at work every day, never stressing about due dates because of how often you were at work.

"That's nice," Katsuki finally spoke, eyes soft as he looked over every feature on your face. When you looked up you saw the dark circles that surrounded his eyes.

"How was your day?" You asked softly, trying to tell him he didn't need to answer.

He squeezed your calf, looking away from you for the first time since he sat down. "Rough," he said, voice slightly cracked.

"What happened?" you pushed.

He sighed, "A young couple was caught in a bad villain attack, she didn't make it."

Katsuki always took deaths hard, as any hero did. He saw himself as a complete failure after every death. It's only happened personally to him a couple of times and he always took it just as roughly. Often following you around the apartment after getting home, gluing himself to your presences.

No words would help him. All you could think of was trying to console him in any way possible. So you got up from your spot, shifting your body so you could lean your head against his shoulder. Feeling him instantly rest his head against yours. You fumbled for the TV remote, putting on one of his favorite movies before you fully rested against him. Wrapping your arms around his, hugging him close.

Moments like this were far and in between for the two of you. You hardly hugged, only on the bad or good days. But despite that, he still felt like home. You wished this would be the daily but were okay to settle for what he was okay with. Never wanting to push him too far.

This.

This was your normal for the bad days. The good days just had a celebratory hug and that was it.

-

A couple of days passed and you were out with friends. With you forcing Katsuki to come out as well. After all, the group has been inviting him for the past six months. Izuku, Uraraka, Todoroki, Tsuu, Ida, Momo, Mei and her friend Nana were all there. All of you were sat in Izuku's living room. Izuku was across the coffee table from you, seated in a matching lounge chair as the one Katsuki was in behind you. You opting to sit on the floor in front of Katsuki, wanting to be closer to the girls who also chose to sit on the floor. Uraraka seated in front of Izuku, Mei, and Nana seated in front of the TV but facing the group, Todoroki, Ida, and Momo all sat on the couch, and Tsuu was on the floor beside you.

The conversation naturally divided, the boys choosing to talk about the new ranks and techniques they've learned and the girls talking about whatever. You shifted focus between the two conversations, keeping track of the hero equipment the boys might need. You were deeply invested in the rant Izuku fell into about how he'd need new gloves to combat his new move.

Your attention was snapped to the girls when your name was called out. All of them awaiting your response. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention," you blinked at them.

"Oh, Nana was just talking about her relationship problems, and you're in one right?" Mei asked, helping Nana out since this was the first time she's hung out with the group and she was rather shy.

You furrowed your brows, "Yeah? Whatsup?" After all, they did just ask if you were in a relationship right in front of your boyfriend. Maybe Mei was filling Nana in.

"So," Nana started, messing with her hands, "my partner is um, sorry I don't know how to explain it well." Mei shot Nana a smile, nodding at her to go ahead. She took a deep breath, "So, my love language is physical touch and they aren't very strong on it. And I just don't know what to do, like should I try to work it out or is the relationship dead? I've had a relationship like this before and it died off fast."

"I say it's dead," Mei added. Uraraka and Tsuu nodding in agreement as well.

Momo sighed, "I think communication is needed first, then decided. Try to work around it first."

You looked between the girls, "I agree with Momo, not trying doesn't solve anything. Plus if you could work around it with your second strongest love language, I think it could still work, if they really couldn't meet halfway with physical touch."

"What do you mean?" Nana tilted her head at you, and all of the girl's eyes shifted to you.

You flushed, "Well for me, like in my relationship," you cringed at the idea of bluntly talking about it right in front of him. Hopefully, Izuku's ramble would keep him from paying attention. "My biggest love language is physical touch, but he doesn't quite like it so there isn't a lot of it. So," you struggled to find the words to properly explain how your relationship was working, "My second favorite is quality time, I guess, and we spend a lot of time together. The other three are also up there, He often cooks for me and stuff, buying me random things too. And our relationship works just fine," you shrugged.

Mei frowned at you, "How are you still with him if he doesn't do your favorite thing?" disgust listed in her voice.

"Well I'm okay with whatever he is okay with," you brushed off her disdain.

"I don't know how you do it either," Tsuu agreed.

"Nana, maybe you shouldn't listen to her," Mei shrugged, "A relationship won't work long-term if that's how you go about it. Maybe just talk to them first but if they can't meet halfway leave."

"Yeah," Nana looked around shyly, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You leaned back into Katsuki's chair, giving up on the conversation as the girls carried it away. Only then did you notice that Katsuki was tapping his foot aggressively. When you looked up at the blonde, his hands were clenched and folded into his chest as he stared straight ahead with a frown.

He was clearly done with the group outing.

You stood up, gaining the eyes of everyone in the room. "Kats and I are going to head out," you announced. Walking over to grab his and your coat. Katsuki getting up as well to meet you at the door.

"Oh lemme walk you out," Izuku jumped up, walking to you guys as the rest waved and said their goodbyes from their seats.

Izuku walked the both of you to the elevator, "You're leaving earlier than normal, everything okay?" Izuku whispered to you.

"You know Kats doesn't like outings," you smiled at him, "Nothing to worry about." Izuku eyed you, knowing what you said wasn't entirely true.

Izuku stood straight up, having leaned down to talk to you, once you reached the elevator. "I'm glad you made it this time Kacchan," Izuku beamed.

Katsuki grumbled in reply, facing away and walking into the opened elevator.

The lack of a 'shut up' confused the both of you. So you turned to huge Izuku goodbye, taking the green-haired boy out of shock. "Nice seeing you 'Z, I'll start working on your new gloves," you smiled.

"Thank you, I'll text you everything I want added," he smiled, "Goodnight!" He waved goodbye before walking back to his door. You turned around to a grumpy Katsuki holding the elevator door open for you.

"Sorry," you mumbled, quickly stepping inside. When the door closed you took the chance to question his, "Whatsup?"

"Nothing," he crossed his arms again.

"Come on Kats," you crossed your arms as well.

He sighed, "Your love language really physical touch?" he looked at you briefly, allowing you to see the embarrassment that coated his cheeks.

You paled at the realization he heard the entire conversation, "Yeah," you admitted, "not a requirement for me though."

He just let out a louder sigh and brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes aggressively.

"Kats?"

"What?" he grumbled.

"You okay?" you leaned closer to him, trying to see his face.

"Yeah," he dropped his hands, and stared at the number above the door, watching it tick to the ground floor.

"No you're not-," you tried, being interrupted by the elevator door opening, Katsuki rushing to the parking garage to leave.

Abruptly ending the conversation.

-

The drive home he blasted the radio, not giving you the option to turn it down and talk. Rushing inside your apartment as well. Quickly hiding himself in his room. You turned around with a scoff when he shut the door right in your face, going to your room for the night as well.

The next morning he left without a goodbye, all you heard from him was the front door shutting behind him.

Throughout the work day, he also ignored your messages. Leaving you alone for lunch rather than sharing it with you like he normally did. Not even texting you when he'd be home. The only thing you got from him was his calendar update, which wasn't even intentional. Seeing how he had moved his meetings for the day to fit in a meeting with Izuku last minute for the day.

So without any notice from him, you headed home near 6 in the afternoon. Which was normally the time you came home, so he should be home in an hour. Taking your shoes and coat off when you entered the apartment. Putting your keys away as well. Walking down the hall to your bedroom. Running into the ash blonde leaving his.

He paused for a minute, hand left on his doorknob as he looked at you. You crossed your arms impatiently, for one he was in the way of your bedroom and he also ignored you for the past day. He shut his door eventually, still blocking the hallway.

"Sorry," he muttered.

You drop your arms to your side, "Why?"

"Just felt weird," he mumbled, looking down at your shoes.

"Not going to tell me?" you furrowed your brows. He stayed silent. "Fine," you sighed, "Could you move? I want to shower, I'll be in the living room soon."

He stepped out of the way, moving to the side of the small hallway.

So you did just as you said. Walking into your room to grab clothes then going straight to the shower. Washing the day away as you washed your hair. Thinking over Katsuki's behavior since last night. And his reluctance to talk about it.

When you got out of the shower and dressed, you walked to the living room.

Katsuki was busy cooking, chopping vegetables, and dropping them into the pan. Adding meats and sauces as well. His brows were furrowed and his nose was scrunched. His thinking face. He was in his own world. Breaking out of it when you opened the fridge to grab a drink.

"'M makin' curry, keepin' the spices separate, don't worry," he grumbled over his shoulder.

He was going to play off his behavior like it was normal.

"Okay," you spoke, making your way to sit on the stool placed on the side of the island, seated right in front of him. You took a drink of your drink, "So you had a meeting with Z today?"

His knife paused for a moment, hovering over the carrot he was cutting. He glanced up, "Huh?"

"Your calendar?" you hinted, " I saw that you arranged a meeting with him last second. What did you need to talk about with him?"

He looked back down, "Nothin," he resumed cutting. You shot him a glare. One that, with so much time spent together, he could feel it without even looking. His shoulders sagged, giving in, "Just went over some tactics. I also went to him about a, um," he coughed lightly, "A support item in a way."

You perked up, filled with questions, "How come you didn't come to me?"

"I was askin' him if I should, was trying to see if it was even a good idea," he shrugged.

"What is it?" you crossed your arms, placing your forearms on the counter and leaning on them.

He finished chopping the vegetables, scooping them all into a pot, and letting it simmer. He turned back to you, leaning onto the counter. "So you know how I keep breaking the watches you buy me?"

"Yeah?" you questioned, not knowing how this involved work.

"Well, could you make me one?" he looked at your face. You were waiting for him to continue. "Like make it fireproof, waterproof-"

"Youproof?" you smiled, summing up what he was going to say.

"Yeah," he sighed in relief, glad he didn't have to explain every detail. "But I want one more thing added to it if you can."

"Kats, I can do literally everything," you smiled cockily.

"Can you make it disable my quirk?" he looked down at his hands.

"Why?"

"Just nice to be relaxed without it, can also help with my training. Then could you also make it so no one can try to cancel my quirk? All these quirk-removing things nowadays," he fumbled with his hands, mumbling out his words.

"Probably, I can definitely make it cancel your quirk, but making no one able to cancel yours, will be a bit hard. I'll make it combat most," you suggested.

"Okay," he sighed before looking at you, putting a finger in your face, " Also make it so only I can make it cancel my quirk. Like, put a password or some shit on it."

"Trust me, I was going to anyways," you laughed.

"Good," he grunted, turning back to the food on the stove.

"How come you needed Z for that?" you asked after a bit.

"Didn't know if it'd kill me or something," he shrugged. You wished you could have seen his face but his back was facing you.

"Also, Kats," you called. He turned to face you, "Answer my texts next time, hard to tell if you're alive or not," you frowned.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking back to his food.

The conversation died at that, switching to him talking about what he was cooking. Filling up the silence with meaningless words and the scraping of food being placed in a bowl for you.

He placed a bowl in front of you and sat beside you. You could have eaten at the table but walking didn't seem like something you wanted to do, despite it only being a couple of steps away. Shaking your head when he asked if you wanted to eat at the table.

After a few bites of food and small talk about the other day, your phone buzzed. Face up on the table between you two. Lighting up with an unknown number

xxx-xxxx

Hey! This is Nana from last night. I got your number from Mei, I apologize if you don't appreciate that-

You opened your phone to read the rest, leaving it on the table as you continued to eat.

xxx-xxxx

Hey! This is Nana from last night. I got your number from Mei, I apologize if you don't appreciate that but I felt the need to text you. I saw how uncomfortable you were last night, talking about your boyfriend. And how he doesn't like touching you. I hope you know it's okay, and people are there for you. I was in a relationship like that once, and it was hard but it ended and I'm okay now. I remember how uncomfortable I was talking about him, making up excuses for how our relationship worked. How he refused to touch me, unless it was.. harshly, for lack of a better word, and degraded me. Reminded me of how you were talking about your boyfriend. Just know I'm here for you, and you're beautiful and strong.

You read over the text a couple of times, trying to make sure you understood what she was saying. After you were one hundred percent sure, you looked up from your phone, glancing at Katsuki, who was staring at your phone like he wanted to kill it. Holding his spoon like it shot his foot.

"She thinks I fuckin' beat you or somethin'?" He looked at you.

You looked back down at your phone, "Think so."

"The fuck?" he put his spoon back into his bowl roughly, "The fuck did I do?"

"I don't think she realized I was dating you," you defend.

"Still? How in the hell?" he glared at your phone, "Just cause we don't touch a shit ton that means I fuckin' beat you?"

"Kats-" you reached a hand out towards him.

"No," he stood up, "That's fucking bullshit. It's not that bad that we don't, right?" He looked at you "Right?"

"Right," you confirmed, "She misread the situation that's all. Now eat," you pointed to his food. "I'll let her know she was wrong, and that we are fine and happy."

"Are we?" he asked, voice soft. You looked at him, the words stabbing at your heart. "Are you?" he reworded, voice on edge.

"Katsuki, what?" you looked at his eyes. He looked lost. "Katsuki," you spoke softly, "Of course I am, I'm with the best. Why wouldn't I be?"

He brought his hands to his face, rubbing at his face as he always did. "Okay, just," he grumbled, "Fuck, I don't know." He went quiet, sitting down and finishing his bowl of curry before washing his empty dish, and taking yours when you were done.

He was overwhelmed and frustrated, so you stayed quiet as well. Texting Nana back instead.

-You-

Hi! I appreciate this but the situation was completely misread. I was just uncomfortable because he was sitting right behind me. The ash blonde, number two hero Dynamight. Felt weird talking about my relationship with him right there. I'm very happy with him, so nothing bad is happening. Thank you for your concern, and I'm glad you got out of that bad relationship. I hope your new partner fixes their behavior.

Nana

I am so sorry then. I had no idea! I shouldn't have assumed. I should have asked a bit more about it before I jumped straight to that conclusion, I am so sorry!

"I texted her," you told Katsuki, "She feels bad and had no idea I was dating you."

He grunted in reply, walking on scrubbing the dish in his hands. "When can you get my watch done?" he switched topics.

"Maybe a month, with the whole people can't cancel your quirk," you shrugged, "Could you write me everything you want added to it?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, "I'll leave a note on the counter for you tomorrow."

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 3: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(part 2, here.)

(part 1, here.)

There is, of course, a group chat. Billy initially named it, “Coven of Chaos💜” but Rio changed it to “sluts”

Jen immediately left the chat the second it was created, but Alice put her back in. There was a second escape attempt when they were all together, to which Lilia responded with an “🙁” expression, which was enough to convince Jen to reluctantly stay in the group chat.

Ironically, Lilia isn't even active on the group chat. She's terrible at texting & terrible at reasing messages. (“why is the print so small??”)

She is, however, surprisingly nimble with her phone outside of that. She needed to figure it out for business and stuff.

Sharon also doesn't know how to use the group chat. She had a flip-phone until recently—and only got a new one because Billy insisted she needed it. She keeps accidentally doing group calls by miss-clicking on her phone.

Sharon always calls Alice to “come fix her phone” because “it's broken again!!” Alice, each time, has to tell her that it's probably just out of battery.

Agatha is blocked on Jen's phone because she won't stop sending her spam, so they only ever text each other on the group chat, which Jen has muted.

Jen, Alice and Lilia have a separate group chat. Lilia hasn't even noticed, but they assume she has, because she leaves everything on read. In reality, she just thinks both group chats are the same group-chat and they always have to call her om the phone to make plans.

Alice wanted to add Billy to the second group chat too, but Jen told her that he'd probably be sad to not include the others so it's better that he doesn't find out.

Agatha claims she doesn't care what Billy does, but once she ran out of her house to his car because he forgot his jacket.

Billy made everyone friendship bracelets in prideflag colours, (like the ones agatha and rio wore in agatha's trial.)

“I hate bracelets” “don't wear it then” “fuck you, I'm never taking it off.”

“do you like it? :))” *chocked up* “it's fine i guess-”

Alice, Lilia, Sharon and Rio don't even play difficult, they just wear them immediately.

Agatha and Billy love doing matching Halloween outfits. Rio and Eddie would be offended, but like. They respect the slay.

Eddie would go as hulk (haha hulkling reference) and Rio would just wear a black t-shirt that says “BOO-bs” across her chest. And she'd draw nipples all over her body.

Billy makes them vote for best costume and he ALWAYS votes for Alice regardless of who actually has the best costume. Not because he's biased—just because hers are genuinely always his favourites.

Jen and Lilia will go shopping during the first weeks of October, when people start decorating for Halloween, and the moment Lilia spots a SINGLE pumpkin she starts bitching and moaning the WHOLE WAY HOME about how “the holiday industrial complex appropriates our culture through offensive stereotypes and absurd emblems and It's full of caricatures that stem from misogyny and female domesticity and villifying powerful women and AND there's so many racial micro-aggresions and it's all just exploiting us for profit and all these decorations and advertisements are just here to pressure people to buy products and--”

Jen stopped listening ten minutes ago. She SO regrets pointing and saying, “oh, that pumpkin is so cute!” as if she doesn't know who she's hanging out with.

So, obviously Lilia never dresses up for Halloween. Jen just dresses hot, so that Lilia won't be able to be mad at her.

Lilia has... No objections to that--

Rio's favourite thing during Halloween (but also just, always) is scaring the shit out of people.

They all have weekly movie nights :)

Rio picks “comedies” (Horror movies, psychological thrillers, slasher films, gothic fiction, dark comedies, survival horror, anything gruesome & grotesque & body horror & gore, post-apocalyptic fiction) Sharon “coincidentally” skips movie night whenever it's Rio's turn to pick a film.

Alice picked everything everywhere all at once during her last turn. Her and Lilia sobbed through it (for very different reasons) while hugging each other. Other than that, Alice usually picks action movies, crime films, and the occasional rom-com or coming-of-age.

Jen loves dramas. Any dramas. Unnecessary trope-filled miscommunication? Hit her up!

Sharon likes sitcoms and old hollywood productions with a romantic flair. She'll point at scenes and narrate stories about how, “me and my husband used to...”

Agatha watches a lot of reality tv because she loves to make fun of the people yelling at each other.

Billy will always pick musicals. (Lilia has forbidden a specific few—and I think we all know which few.)

Hilariously, Agatha uses her next turn to force Lilia to sit through Madonna's Evita.

Lilia herself hates historical movies and always points out the inaccuracies. Same with fantasy media, she just doesn't like it. She's the pickiest of them all with movies and she always chooses total obscure wildcards that nobody has ever heard before—and somehow they're always the best ones.

Billy's parents are very conflicted about these people. “How about you and Eddie just... Start hanging out with people your own age? Like!! Eddie's friend group!!”

Even when he starts hanging out with the Young Avengers, he still spends more than half of his free time with his coven of lesbian senior citizens. <3

[textmel8r]

thoughts on the jjk boys w a goth gf?? :3 like vampire/ romantic goth (projecting)

OMG…

gojo is lowkey intimidated, in a good way. your personalities clash, but even so, it keeps things interesting. struts around the house in your corsets and stockings and heavy duty boots to piss you off because he thinks it’s soooooo hot when you yell at him. one thing he’ll never get on board with is the music, though, so you guys scrap over the aux cord frequently

geto is so attracted to your piercings and tattoos. piercing dates!! you guys go to get matching metal and suffer through the healing process together. movie dates are also often. you both had bonded over your shared taste in horror films, so it’s fun for you guys to snuggle on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and giggle at the horribly fake gore scenes

nanami doesn’t realize how much he suppressed his attraction to gothic women until he meets you. always, even since high school, he’d always had appreciation for the culture. the piercings and the music and the clothes, he finds it all so tasteful. you give nanami a sense of nostalgia back to his school days when he used to secretly pine over his alternative classmates

toji would DEFFF make fun of you, like call you ‘emo’ and ‘creepy’ and ‘weird’ but lowkey find the chains and the eyeliner and the black clothing strangely hot. still thinks you a fucking witch freak tho. if you’re his goth gf, just prepare of all of the teasing

choso is inspired by you and the way you don’t care. you dress and act how you want unabashedly, and to him, that’s the most charming thing in the world. he’ll sit in on your makeup routines, asking to try certain products because they all look so pretty on you. expect choso to follow your lead quickly and settle into a gothic sense of style after a few months of your relationship

[littlereddream]

ok so that zombie apocalypse au with jason was absolutely insanely amazing. i love how you wrote the rationale behind staying with him. would you ever consider writing more on the time jason kisses reader the first time (the one after they’d been attacked by a horde? if not, totally fine! have a cool day

Thank you!! So glad you asked because I’ve been wanting to write more about this au lol

This fully escaped me and ended up being longer than the original. Included is the missing scene from Jason kissing the reader for the first time and (I know you didn’t ask for this but I can’t help myself) their second kiss.

Enjoy!

(The original)

Under Heavy Rot

Missing scenes

Zombie apocalypse au typical gore (though more than Under Heavy Rot), gn reader

It was like digging for iron and finding gold instead. The corner store, such a short walk away from Jason’s house, was like a piece of trapped, untapped history. Every shelf was untouched, fully stocked as if the employees had made it their very last duty to fill up the space with supplies.

It’s not all perfect, of course. All of the dairy products are well past their expiration date, leaving you to grab powdered milk instead. The power’s out, and likely has been since the very beginning of it all, so most of the refrigerated or frozen products are out of the question.

Still, candy bars and canned food are nothing to scoff at.

After confirming that you’ve busied yourself with shoving non perishables into your backpack, Jason goes off to secure the store’s outside.

It doesn’t take long to fill up your backpack, and you zip it shut before slinging it over your shoulders. At that point, you almost leave. You’ve done what you and Jason came to do, so what’s left?

Just exploring the chance that the store might have a bag of those chips you used to love. Jason’s not around to lecture you for taking unnecessary risks, so you make your way over to the back. You’ll take your chances.

Every little movement has the old tile creaking under your feet, until one step prompts a quiet splash. Your gaze flicks down to your shoe, finding a puddle of sticky, nearly black blood. It sticks to the bottom of your boot when you raise it, thick and gooey.

Your hand flies to your knife, drawing it out of its sheath. Walker blood. It’s too coagulated to be anything else, too dark to be from anything other than the dead. The puddle smears forward, creating a trail through the aisle before turning past your view into the next.

Slowly, weapon raised, you move forward to follow the bloody path. You hardly make it two steps until a shrill snarl is your only warning before a hand grabs your shoulder.

You whirl around, knife angled to slash, but the blade can only uselessly cut across the walker’s chest. There’s no reaction from it, entirely undeterred from your attempt. You step back, distancing yourself as best you can while trying to form a plan. It’s just one. You’ve taken down countless walkers before, why’s this any different?

Another groan, this time from right behind you. You look back and, fuck, there’s two, blocking the other end of the aisle. Okay. Sacrifices, sacrifices.

Turning back to the one, you grip your knife tight and rush forward at it’s feet, diving between it’s legs to get behind before twisting around to slash the back of it’s knees. The action costs you your knife, getting stuck in the flesh mid movement, but it’s fine. It’s enough to buy you time, let you find out where you’d gotten yourself.

To the very back, with three walkers gaining on you and a singular clear path to the exit the next aisle over. You don’t make it. They’re faster than you’d predicted, recovering too quickly for your plan to fall into any sort of action. Too close, too close.

The two steps back you do take have your shoulders pressing into a shelf, securing your fate.

Or not. You could’ve sworn that the walkers in front of you didn’t have those holes in their head two seconds ago. They fall, one by one until they’re nothing but piles of previously reanimated flesh in front of you.

Behind them? Jason, slowly lowering his gun to rush over to you. His brows are knitted together, frown tight on his face, and you can only stare at him as his hands come up to cup both sides of your jaw. He tilts your face in his hands, checking you for injuries.

Jason repeats your name quietly, mumbled like he needs it to breathe. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

“Did you get bit? Scratched? What happened? I thought…” he trails off.

“I’m okay, Jay. They didn’t hurt me. You got them,” you reassure, hands coming up to rest over his.

He’s close, enough for you to see the sweaty glow of his skin, the scuffs of dirt on his cheeks. You don’t think there’s ever been anyone so beautiful.

“You’re okay,” Jason repeats, like he doesn’t quite believe it himself.

You nod, sweeping your thumbs in little circles over the back of his hands. Jason doesn’t waste another second. You aren’t ready for it, you don’t think he was either. Between one second and the next, he has his lips pressed to yours.

It’s soft, sweet in a way you wouldn’t have expected from the same man who almost killed you during your first meeting. Though maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. He’s also the same man who changed the bandages on your wound as if you’re broken glass, bound to shatter entirely if he pressed a little too hard.

He holds your face in his hands like the world around you doesn’t exist. There aren’t dead walkers sprawled around your feet. You aren’t standing in a crappy, abandoned corner store. This isn’t about to end the second he pulls away.

But it does, and the second his lips leave yours, the real world falls back into place. You don’t think you’ve ever hated it more.

Jason breaks it abruptly, but doesn’t fully pull away. His forehead remains touching yours, eyes squeezed tight like he’s preparing himself to force his next words out.

“I’m sorry. It…you know. Adrenaline. It won’t happen again, promise.”

Jason’s hands drop down to his sides, and now even the warmth from your kiss is gone. The real world is cold, and all you can do is shiver.

But if he wants to pretend it was a mistake, then you’ll let him. At this point, you doubt there’s much you wouldn’t do for him.

The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. You really, really don’t want to leave him. Judging by everything that’s happened, he doesn’t want you to either.

There’s nothing for you to say, not that he gives you any time to speak. He’s already grabbing more canned food to shove into his own backpack.

“I think we have everything. We’re probably good to head back. Need anything else?” He asks.

You need him to kiss you again.

“No. Let’s go.”

With a curt nod from him, you leave the corner store, your favorite chips forgotten.

Two weeks later, you learn that Jason Todd is a liar. A no good, handsome, filthy little liar. And sure, maybe it’s you that gave him the perfect grounds to break his promise, but still. A liar.

It’s not like you’re not grateful. If Jason hadn’t gone back on his promise, then you wouldn’t be sandwiched between him and the kitchen counter.

You’d gotten tired of watching him look away anytime you caught him staring, of seeing how he’d never allow himself to touch you for more than a second when pulling you out of danger.

Your exhaustion, well paired with the event of him wearing his stupidly fitting leather jacket around you, was the perfect recipe for you to damn the consequences and just kiss him.

You’d started with so much confidence. You thought you understood what he kissed like, thought you’d be the one to overwhelm him when you grabbed him by the collars of his jacket.

“I really want to kiss you right now. Can I?” You’d whispered, like you’d disturb the air around you if you were just that little bit louder.

He’d nodded stupidly, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

You’d overwhelm him, you’d thought.

You’ve never been so wrong.

Within seconds of your lips meeting his, Jason doesn’t waste another moment before backing you up into the counter. This Jason is different than the one from the corner store, who was so sweet and gentle. This Jason kisses like he’s trying to steal the air from inside your lungs, more starved than the dead outside.

Your brain feels blank, all confidence gone along with any memory of what to do while kissing somebody. He doesn’t even give you a second to think, broad hands squeezing your hips like you’d even try to move away. What the hell, what the hell.

Jason pulls away to give you a total of two seconds to breathe, then he’s back, bringing a hand up wrap around one of your wrists, still resting on his chest. What is he- oh. With his hand guiding one of your arms to wrap around his neck, you manage to have just enough brain capacity left to bring the other arm up too.

You aren’t sure how long you kiss. What you do know is that even after your lips part for the final time, the real world isn’t even close to coming back. Your brain’s too fuzzy, head resting against his chest while his arms wrap around your waist, slowly swaying the both of you to a melody that only he knows.

You know that if you look up now, you’ll see the wide smile that he hasn’t been able to force down since you’ve stopped kissing, despite his best efforts.

Leaving. Right. As if. As far as you were concerned, the only way either of you would ever leave is with the other following right behind.

And it’s perfect.

[peggyao3]

Peggysuave's Masterlist

All of my fics are x AFAB!reader (reads like an ambiguous OC for my Feyd fics), include explicit sexual content, most are fairly dark and explore complex and morally grey relationships, some include dub-con/non-con themes ‼️

Finished ✅, Ongoing ✏️, Ao3 only 🔺

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen | Henry Creel | Ominis Gaunt | Roman Godfrey | Ghostface | Frank Morrison

-> RELIC 🌌

✧Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours. [Lucid Dreaming, Vulnerable Feyd, Female Rage] Series Masterlist ✏️

-> PREYD 🩸

Feyd calls his pet to his chambers for a monthly feast. [Dub-con, blood/period kink, knife "play", 2.2k] ✅

-> NIGHT CRAWLER 🍼

Feyd-Rautha welcomes a nocturnal visitor in his chambers, who is plagued by the symptoms of her artificially induced condition. [Dub-con, lactation kink, breast feeding, 9.7k] Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 ✅

-> HERE COMES THE SUN 🌞

Feyd-Rautha is the center of attention for an entire planet, but it counts for nothing because his favorite concubine isn't paying attention during the fight. How dare she ruin his birthday? [Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Marriage Proposal, 6.8k] ✅ Part 1, Part 2

-> HOLY SEED 🙏

Feyd so badly wants to plant his seed deep inside his wife's belly. [Breeding Kink without Breeding, Switch Feyd & FMC, 2.5k] ✅

-> THE ART OF EMPATHY 🪴

After the fall of House Harkonnen, an innocent poison flower is planted in their evil heart to teach them the art of empathy. [Bene Gesserit FMC, Soft!Feyd, Redemption, 6.3k] ✅🔺

-> KALEIDOSCOPE ⚔️

In a fight for freedom or death against the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, his woman figures out how she feels about him. A poor devil wrapped in the skin of a beast. [Gore, Blood for Lube, Mutilation, Public Sex, 2.7k] ✅🔺

-> KINKTOBER 2024 🤤

Feyd-Rautha edition. Based on this prompt list. ✏️

-> CARDINAL SIN ✝️

You follow a trail of corpses to the rainbow room and find a bloodied angel. [Blood & Corpses, Fucking in the Rainbow Room, 4.2k] ✅🔺

-> YOU & ME 💑

“There's a second facility…” Dr. Brenner wheezed. “And what's inside of this facility?” “A woman… One woman.” “What is she capable of?” “…Anything.” Henry’s eyes blazed up with fresh hope. Greedy, frantic wicked hope. “I need to have her.” [Stockholm Syndrome, Quantum Physics, 37k] ✅🔺

-> HURTS LIKE A DISEASE 💔

An apathetic sociopath meets an insecure overthinker with anxiety. After an embarrassing incident at the cafeteria of Hawkins Lab, a man named Peter Ballard takes morbid fascination in your displayed insecurities and anxiety, because like him, you don't seem to fit in with the other humans and society. From now on, he wants to study and observe you. Unfortunately, you agree. [Mental Illness, problematic relationship, 55k] ✅🔺

-> LOCKED UP, CAN'T GET YOU OFF MY MIND ⛓️

When Dr. Brenner came to the conclusion that 001’s powers were uncontrollable, he decided to dispose of the useless subject who was proof of his failure as a scientist. Isolated in a cell on the minus third floor of Hawkins Lab, 001 is locked up to rot and be forgotten. You are hired to be his prison guard, his nurse, his orderly, responsible for 001’s health and well-being. The full-time job goes well for many years, until eventually your morals start crumbling away… [Power Imbalance, Forbidden Romance, Switch!Henry, 41k] ✅🔺

-> RUNNING IN THE NIGHT 🌃

You are a master of lucid dreaming, able to create all kinds of wondrous things and go on the most fantastic adventures in your sleep. One night, you receive a mysterious call in your dream. From then on, you find your mind being invaded by an uncanny, clingy, pushy intruder night after night, who tries to convince you that he is not just a product of your imagination, but a real person with telepathic powers. [Lucid Dreaming, Toxic Lovers, Jealousy, 50k] ✅🔺

-> OH, ASHES... 🌪️

On a stormy day, the ashes had whispered to you for the first time. Like shadowy fingertips, their call for help had ghosted over your heart and mind. Now, three years later, you finally fully accepted the quest that had been given to you – To liberate the ashes’ home dimension from the plague that had infested it, by summoning the surprisingly human parasite back to its own birth realm and taking him under your wing. [Burnt!Henry, Modern Setting, Master/Servant, 44k] ✅🔺

-> PEGGY'S PETER PÖRN COLLECTION 📚

A collection of smutty oneshots. Every chapter is a complete story. Porn with plot, porn with no plot, plot with porn, but there is always porn! <3 There will be dark themes, kinky shit, AUs and madness. So, beware! Warnings for each chapter. [BDSM, Stockholm Syndrome, Sex Toys, Angel!AU... 104k] ✅🔺

-> MILKY EYES 👁️

The unseeing gaze of the mysterious boy named Ominis seems permanently glued on you, and as weeks turn into months, you feel like he begins following you around the castle. Between unease and anger, you feel something else, so you confront him in a deserted hallway after dark. OR: Who the hell is Mark Markson? And what does his cabbage have to do with it? And most importantly, why are you and Ominis clapping cheeks all across Hogwarts? [Strangers to Lovers, Ambiguous Encounters, Dominis, 81k] ✅🔺

-> SAW YOU DANCING FROM ACROSS THE ROOM 💃

You are at a party, minding your own business, when suddenly you're being rudely scolded from behind. It turns out, the host of the party himself is scolding you and you have no idea why. Insulted and confused, you try to avoid him for the rest of the nigth. It doesn't go well. [Extremely dub-con, Dead Dove, Choking, Spanking, 6k] ✅🔺

Please beware, the fics below this point are REAL old and shitty in comparison 😔

-> LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO 🔪

Danny Johnson is your best friend. But little do you know he wanted to be so much more than that from the day he first met you. Eventually you say something that gives him the final straw - He will make you love him back, one way or another. [Dub/Non-Con, Best Friends Trope, Jealousy, 11k] ✅🔺

-> BUNNY ON THE RUN ���

You're just an average girl who likes reading smutty fanfictions about dangerous psychos and serial killers and all of sudden you find yourself face to face with a serial killer in real life. Luckily, fanfictions have perfectly prepared you for situations likesuch. [Dub-Con, Knife Play, Anal Sex, Outdoor Sex, 4k] ✅🔺

-> TAKE A DIRTY PICTURE FOR ME 📸

An accidental boob slip gets you into a heated up situation. [Dub-Con, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Light Bondage, 9.5k] ✅🔺

-> MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WALL 👊

Frank and you are college freshmen and roommates but not only do your personalities clash, you end up getting into heated disputes on a daily basis. One day you come home late and catch him red-handed masturbating. Unfortunately, Karma is a bitch and Frank gets his revenge on you just a little later. [Room Mates, Accidental Voyeurism, Hate Sex, 11.5k] ✅🔺

-> A FRENZIED ENCOUNTER 🏔️

You spawn in a place that you've never been to and encounter a man that you have never seen before. But he is not who you think he is. When he finally gets a hold of you things get more heated up than you ever imagined they could. [Dub-Con, Knife Play, Blowjobs, Playing Chase, 6.3k] ✅🔺

[gbhbl]

Album Review: Stages of Decomposition - Raptures of Psychopathy (Gore House Productions)

Is it good? Is it bad? Is that what your guts being ripped out through your arse sounds like? Have you died already and gone to hell?

The relentless purveyors of brutal L.A. death grind, Stages of Decomposition are back with a gritty, slamming gruesome third studio release ‘Raptures of Psychopathy’, which will be released on February 2nd, 2024, via Gore House Productions. When something is referred to as extreme, it can often be a bit of misnomer for something that just happens to be quite heavy. Only in exceptional…

[oval3000]

Chapter 8

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

-------------------------------------------------------

Maybe it was your mind going into shambles or just your thoughts telling you that you should be grateful. You haven't left the house in two months. He wouldn't let you. At first, you didn't question or bothered him with idea of you going outside, now it's just...getting to you.

The thought of it came up a couple weeks ago when you felt like you couldn't breath, you wanted to smell the air outside. You wanted to know where you were. This led to König lashing out at you.

"Enough! You are not leaving this house! You're not going outside! And you are not going to change my mind of it!"

He would scare you and he could tell, so when he sees you flinch at his venomous words, he feels guilty.

"I'm sorry, schatz. I just don't want to loose you."

He would come home with your needs, pads, new clothing, the usual feminine products. He would hug you tight at night that you couldn't get out of bed to go pee. When you want to take a shower, he would shower with you.

As for the sexual part of this, it has been dormant. Ever since the night you both shared, he hasn't touched you in an intimacy way. Not that he doesn't want to, he does, he just wanted to wait until you were ready for the next couple rounds.

He's still active with physical touch by pulling you into his lap and kissing you in whatever chance he gets. He would kiss you deeply for minutes. When you want to stop, he would just holds you tighter, which later causes him to jerk off in the bathroom.

When Horangi started to question your state to König, he would get a cold reply by him by telling him to mind his business and to worry about other things. You never met Horangi, you never really see König and him interact since they meet outside the house. The idea of Horangi doesn't exist to you.

So when you saw a stranger in the kitchen, you were shocked. Someone who isn't König that is standing infront of you. König left to run some errands, so it was just you and him.

"It's okay, I'm König's friend. My name is Horangi." You calmed at bit, slowly walking to the kitchen counter. "I just wanted to see you. He tells me alot about you and I know how König can be, so I just wanted to check up on you."

"O-kay. Can you tell me where I am?" You saw his posture, leaning agiants the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

'You're in König's safe house." He said, walking closer to you. "It's best for you not to know the location."

You saw the men's features and structure. Fit and strong. "How do you know König?"

"We served in the same military, Kor-tac. I guess you can say that we're buddies. König never told me how beautiful you are. He told me that you are his nurse he wants to care for." He leaned in closer to you. "It makes sense why König is crazy over you."

He carresed your cheek with his finger, but you quickly moved away. "It was a shame I was placed into a different facility then König, or else I would've gone crazy too."

Your eyes widen open, "what?"

"Yoy think he's the only one? We all got questioned by that stupid doctor and best our luck, me and him got put into that prison hell. However, they placed König into a different one than mine cause they were too afraid we were going to plan something together." He looked up and down on you, giving you a smirk. "I was only there for a couple of months," he sighed, "I guess I was being good."

He placed his hands on the counter, behind you, trapping you in between his both arms. "What are you doing?" You said, trying to push him away.

"König is mad about you that I don't think you understand the lengths this man would do for you." His face leaned down to yours, he felt your hands on his chest. "He would tear everything apart if he looses you. It would be a shame if he walked in while," he placed his hand on your cheek, "I fuck you."

You began to panic making him chuckle. "N-no..we shouldn't do this. Please get away from me."

"Have you fucked him yet? Is he good to you?" He whispered to you.

"I-.." he pressed himself more into you.

He snickered at your response. He backed a bit away from you. "König! Are you enjoying the show?" You were so confused until you saw König walking in, like a predator creeping up on its prey. "I was just talking to your special girl. I was already heading out. It was nice meeting you, (Y/n)."

He left the house just leaving you alone with you and König. He marched over you which made you want to run away. He reached to you, pulling your hair, closer to him. He cupped your face, gripping it tight. You've never seen him this angry before. It was terrifying you. "König! Please don't...." tears were falling down your face, "please don't hurt me!" His hands went to your neck, giving it a slight squeeze.

"What were you doing with him!?" He yelled at you, dragging you to the bedroom.

"I wasn't doing anything! I swear! Please! Please don't hurt me! You said that you would never hurt me!" You cried out, using the blankets and pillows as a shield.

"ENOUGH! Don't make it harder for me then it is." He took off his shirt. "Is it because I'm not giving you enough attention!?" He took off his pants. "You wanted to leave this house right? Is it because you want to find someone else!?" He went to you, taking your arms and pulling you off the bed. "Is it because I'm not good enough?" He bended you over his desk with your ass rubbing his crotch. "Is it because your too lonely here, is that it?" He took off his briefs, giving a few pumps on his cock, feeling the precum coating his length. "I think your ready, schatz." He pulled down your shorts and underwear. "Damit ich ein Baby in dich stecke (for me to put a baby in you)"

He didn't give you time or strength to answer, he immediately shoved his cock inside your pussy. He moved his hips back and forth, making the desk shake with each thrust. "Ah! Mein hase!..aAaHh!" He moaned out, grabbing your ass, moving it along side his hips back and forth. With his one hand, he placed his thump inside your anus while his fingers clutching on your ass cheeks. His other hand giving a few slaps on your ass, making it bounce more. You tightened your palms together, feeling the heat rise up your cheeks. You bit your lip hard for you not to make any noises.

The pleasure was too much. The motion was too much. "HaaAh!..ah!ah!...oooh..mhm!..K-König."

"Tell me what you want, schatz," he moaned out pulling his head back, shutting his eyes. His hips thrusting in and out, making all your juices coming out, making a tiny pool on the floor.

"I-I...want you....ah! I Want y-you...König!" You palmed the desk, trying to prevent you from most likely breaking you into it.

"Yo-...you want me...hase....Ja!" He slapped your right ass cheek loud and hard. His grip on your ass made you go on your tippy toes.

"Yes!...Yes!...I-ah!..I want you..ooh..fuck!.." you felt so numb dumb you can't think clearly or see clearly. "I love you!"

He pulled your hair up, arching your back, "you love me, liebling? I love you too." He placed his hands on your waist fucking you hard. "I'm gonna cum, bunny."

The words themselves made you feel like squirting all over him. Your juices formed a puddle on your floor. He gaved one big, hard, thrust, feeling your womb with his cum.

That day, König fucked you for hours. Making you sucking him off. Fucking you hard and deep into the bed, breaking a few floor boards.

You eventually passed out with the amount of pleasure, it made König freak out thinking he killed you.

He made sure to give you the best aftercare you can experience. The next few days, he brought food for you until you gained the strengths to walk again.

König apologized to you how he treated you. You told him that it was nothing for him to worry about...after all you deserved it...right?

When you felt better, he would fuck you again. And again. And again.

As for Horangi, he apologized to you. He just wanted to see if you are actually the one for König you are the one for him. He wished the best for the both you for it to fall apart.

You're driving him more crazy than he his. He loves you and he has you. In his arms, hugging you tight.

You eventually reached his the goal.

"Schatz? Is everything okay?" He knocked on the bathroom door, jjggling the door knob. "What does it say?"

He waited for your answer. For you to come out of the bathroom. He paced back and forth, taping his foot on the floor. He asked every five minutes if you are okay. Knocking everytime if you needed help with anything.

Eventually you came out. You opened the door and looked up to König. To the man that loves you. To the man that took you away from your actual home to your new home. The father of your future kids.

"I'm pregnant."

[shalotttower]

Darling, Darling

Title: Darling, Darling Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) Summary: The way he cradles you to his chest is almost reverent, like you are something precious. Bubba delivers a lesson after you tried to run away. Word Count: 1500+ Characters: Bubba Sawyer x Reader (female) Notes: Captive Reader, murder (implied), blood and gore (implied), violence, spanking, yandere Bubba Sawyer, cannibalism (mentioned), kinda NSFWish?

The way he cradles you to his chest is almost reverent, like you are something precious, delicate. Something to be cherished. Hands capable of ripping through flesh with ease carry you down the hall, careful not to bang your feet into corners. He doesn't want to hurt you. You know he doesn't, but it hurts anyway. Everything hurts.

Covered in dust and god knows what else, this house is in terrible shape and it reeks - of old colourless wallpapers, age and grime, of grease and smoke and slow decay. No one cleans here, at least from what you've seen. You make an effort not to look into the surroundings; there's a head on a coffee table and it's enough to make bile rise in your throat. So you focus on a single abstract spot in the distance.

"Please, I want to go home," your mouth feels dry when you speak.

He looks down, concerned eyes and messy hair, then shakes his head. Bubba Sawyer doesn't talk. Well, that's not entirely true. He makes sounds, noises. Squeals and grunts. He hums and whistles sometimes, but doesn't form words like you do. Whole and functional sentences don't come to him, which is likely a product of both genetics and childhood environment.

"Please."

With a quiet whimper he presses his face into your hair, and speeds up. The mask he's wearing today belongs to a young woman, or what once was a young woman, now it's merely skin stretched to a degree it shouldn't be.

No. No, you can't leave; Bubba pats your head to make a point - this is home.

"You can't keep me here," you rasp.

He smooths your back and makes more sounds, muffled by the leather; but he can. He can keep you, Drayton said so. He asked. Begged. Pleaded to keep you and Drayton said yes. Not before hitting him with that thick broom - ouch - but it was okay, because Bubba got to keep you. You're the first girl he has like this, the only girl he has like this since Nubbins died. Bubba misses Nubbins, but maybe with you he won't miss him so much anymore.

He needs you to see, to understand. To not run again.

Up, up the stairs you go, past framed pictures in the shades of brown, grey and black. Past the bathroom with peeling paint, stained bathtub and old medicine cabinet. Upstairs smells better than downstairs, cleaner somehow. The first time he brought you out of the basement was terrifying, you thought that was it. A filthy kitchen and walls caving in - the last thing you'd ever see. He gave you one of his grandmother's nightgowns instead, it had a faint perfume smell. The ruffles reminded you of lace wedding dresses from vintage movies. Bubba tucked you in next to himself, like you were a doll or a teddy, and you spent the whole night staring into the darkness, listening to his loud snores. It was warm, better than sleeping on the floor.

The mattress creaks when he sits you down.

His room is a simple space with a single bed and a shelf, crammed with objects that catch Bubba's eye. There's a crucifix on a wall; the irony of it even being there is almost laughable.

You look up. In a white-frame window the sun is setting, and nothing but miles and miles of cornfields surround this house.

You are in the middle of nowhere.

If he once decides that you're not something worth keeping around but food, then it's over. No one will ever find you.

A sob wrecks out of your throat. He crouches, and before you know what's happening, wipes your tears. Hushing and cooing and gently pressing his big hands to your cheeks. It would be so much easier if you could hate him, if he hurt you out of some deranged and violent instinct. But no, Bubba doesn't do any of those things.

He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars, he tries to care for you. Brings you flowers and plates loaded with food which you can't eat, because one look turns your stomach upside down. Because you know what is it, and he...he just doesn't understand why you keep refusing - Drayton always cooks nice meals and Bubba loves his cooking too.

He feeds you warm milk and bread, applesauce and boiled chicken breast cut into small pieces. Watches you chew with careful attention, lips smacking, tongue peeking out as he copies the movements of your mouth.

You feel sick.

He brings you gifts - broken toys, jewelry snatched from dead women, trinkets found in trash cans or discarded by the roadside. You wear some, because if you don't he gets upset and his shoulders sag. It's like kicking a puppy, and it's so...twisted. Everything about this is twisted, like some grotesque play.

Bubba doesn't hurt you.

Unless Drayton tells him to.

He hates this, when Drayton tells him to, because "you're getting uppity and spoiled". It's confusing - you're not spoiled. You behave well most of the time, eat chicken and never call him names, you're warm and soft and let him hold you at night. He likes that a lot. Bubba thinks it might be love, it's fuzzy inside when you're close, like in those shows Grandpa and Grandma used to watch before they gone still.

But Drayton is the oldest, he's smart and knows best.

You whine softly into the pillow as Bubba slaps your backside and whimpers too each time a croak of pain wrenches from your mouth. He wishes that he didn't have to do this, but you need to learn and be good, not try to run, otherwise Drayton might take you away. Bubba doesn't want this.

Your panties dangle around your knees - blue, lace trimmed - Bubba finds them very pretty, if it was in his power he'd give you all the pretty things to wear.

He swallows and raises his hand.

The flesh jiggles under his palm as he spanks you. Bubba counts in his head - Drayton said seven should be enough - one, two, three, four-

He tries to be gentle, but his strength is not used for being gentle. He has spent most of his life doing manual labor. With bare hands he can kill food. The soft skin of your backside changes color quickly into a bright shade of pink, and Bubba squeezes it for a moment, trying to soothe the sore area.

It doesn't help, tears rolling down your face keep wetting the pillow. He wants to scoop you up and cuddle, press kisses to your cheeks, but Drayton told him no. No kissing or hugging until you learn; "she is manipulating you, dimwit".

Your breath comes out ragged in uneven hitches, Bubba doesn't like how miserable you look, small and fragile on his bed. When your sounds subside to quiet, intense sobs, he makes a distressed whine. He feels bad, so very bad, but maybe next time you won't try to leave.

Six. Seven. Done.

Your poor bottom is bright red and raw looking, Bubba pats it carefully. He rubs cool cream to your skin, the one he snuck from Drayton's drawer, making sure to get everywhere before pulling your panties up. You smell nice - sweaty and salty like after work on a hot day.

You always stop talking to him right after. For the rest of the evening, the next few days or sometimes a whole week, and it's awful. You don't eat chicken, the pretty trinkets lie discarded and you won't even look at him.

It hurts more than Drayton and his broom do.

Bubba sits beside you on the mattress for several minutes, waiting. Waiting until you turn - just a little bit - so that he can tap your damp cheeks dry with a towel and maybe feed you apple slices dipped in honey. If you'll let him.

You don't.

Eventually you crawl under the blanket, stiff and quiet, back facing him. His throat burns, you're mad, you don't like Bubba anymore. Dread unfolds at the bottom of his stomach as the sky outside starts darkening, every time he gets scared that this will be it, that you'll hate him forever from now on.

Hesitantly, he climbs underneath the covers, settles on the very edge of the mattress and wriggles a bit closer every five minutes, in case you'll change your mind and want a hug - the lesson is delivered, so it doesn't matter, Drayton won't know anyway.

But the time passes and turns into an hour, yet still you don't move, not even a peek over your shoulder. He waits longer and then a bit more. His heart drops when Bubba realizes: you fell asleep without saying goodnight.

He watches your back rise and fall, then reaches across the bed to stroke your hair. Somehow his arm curves over your frame, and before Bubba knows it, he moves you closer, closer, up against his chest. Your breath is shaky and rough, but he holds on tight, the same way he'd clutch his favourite things.

Tomorrow Bubba will bring you flowers, some tulips because they are pretty like you, and maybe you'll be less angry. Maybe you'll eat apple slices and sit on Bubba's lap by the stove while Drayton cooks dinner, and won't try to run again. He hopes you won't.

[gaytrash-back-in-a-paperbag]

Just One Reason

Just One Reason 

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader  

Summary: Y/N has been working hard as a criminal investigator and always comes home to their lover Nat. When they come home tonight, however, something is different. 

Warnings: Cheating, implied sexual interactions, swearing, lots of implications to abuse, murder, blood/gore, PTSD, anxiety attacks, alcohol (stay safe loves <3) 

A/N: I’m back, this is not new writing yet, but the next chapter (I think it was chapter 6 lol) is actually in production.

You and Natasha had met in your early years of college, she was studying “foreign policies” and you were enthralled with the criminal justice department. It didn’t take long for the two of you to develop feelings for each other after that fateful night.  

You were drunk. No, damn it, you were really drunk. You felt the hands of your friend Kate Bishop keeping you steady. In a poor attempt to shove her way, you grumbled at her in a rough way, dipping your shoulder out of her grasp. You could faintly hear her sigh. She was your designated driver for the night, as everyone knew you were the heavy drinker of the bunch. When a second pair of hands found their way on both your shoulders, practically pulling you to your feet, you looked up, expecting to see Kate’s friend Yelena to be there, but instead were utterly shocked to find a goddess in front of you. Or, at least, you thought it was a goddess. She had long, red hair with fading blonde tips, all pulled into a tight braid. And those damned green eyes that bore holes through your face and you found yourself shrinking back.  

“Don’t throw up on me,” was all she grunted to you as she dragged you through the crowded living room of the frat house. Bringing you into the kitchen, she forced some water down your throat and waited for a reaction out of you. You were too dazed from both the alcohol and the beautiful woman in front of you to respond.  

You spoke the only words that could come to your head, "Hi.” Hi? Nice going, Y/N, way to really sweep her off her feet, you cursed in your head. Despite the awkwardness, the redhead found herself smiling. She laughed slightly, tilting her head. “Hi,” she responded. “And who might you be, drunkard?” 

Oh shit, she was talking to you. You tilted your head in mimicry to her, grinning stupidly. “I’m Y/N, but apparently pretty women call me drunkard.”  

Kate, who had followed both of you, visibly cringed. Wow, Y/N. Real smooth, she thought with a smirk. The short Russian let out a loud laugh at your comment, before saying, “Well, drunkard, my name is Natasha, but I think you can call me Nat.”  

You could only continue grinning like an idiot. Her laugh sounded nice. “Nat it is then.”  

Looking back, you had no idea how she managed to find that attractive. She had basically found you blackout drunk and she still fell in love with you. You were both out of college now and were pursuing your passions, but you lived in an apartment together in downtown Brooklyn. You were currently driving back to sa+id apartment at the moment, just lost in your old thoughts. It wasn’t until you heard the third ring on your phone that you answered, leaning your head to one side while you pinched your phone between your shoulder and cheek.  

“Hello? Y/N /L/N speaking.” 

“No need to be formal, dumbass,” you heard Kate respond, “We’ve got another code 10-44 by the Brooklyn Zoo. Can you go check it out?”  

Kate could hear you groan loudly, an obnoxious groan that Kate knew meant you were pissed now. You had asked to leave early so you could go out with Nat tonight, and you could only hope Nat could forgive your absence. “Fine. But it better be fast,” you grumbled.  

Within a matter of seconds, you had hung up with Kate and were calling Nat. She picked up on the fifth ring, which bothered you slightly, but you swallowed it down when she picked up.  

“Hello?” Nat asked into the phone, a hint of confusion in her voice. There was a slight rasp in her voice, something uncommon in Nat.  

“Hey baby. I just got called back on duty, so date night might be canceled and I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to yo-” 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Take all the time you need.” 

Well, that was new.  And surprising. And, did you mention, took you aback?  

“I- what?” 

“I said, take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Why did she sound so... angry? You shuttered as you pulled into a parking spot, stepping out. You paused outside, deciding whether to push it.  

“You sure, Hun? You seem a bit under the weather.” You pouted slightly, beginning to anxiously pick at your hands. You weren’t used to her like this. 

“Yes. I’m sure,” she insisted. The sternest of her voice was scary, it had caught you very off guard and she could hear your hesitation, causing her to soften. “I’m sorry, I’ve had a really rough day at work. Just... stay safe, okay? I love you.” 

That caused you to relax, letting out a sigh of relief. She heard this and immediately felt bad for coming off so aggressively. You muttered a simple “I love you too” in response before hanging up. Something felt off and it had your skin crawling. You gulped down any worry and went to check on this supposed code 10-44. It didn’t take long for you to find it, when a little girl came crashing into you, full on sobbing and babbling incoherently. It startled you to the point where you were completely out of it for a moment. Coming back to your senses, you knelt to the girl.  

“Woah, woah, woah kiddo. What’s wrong? Shh, it’s okay now, talk to me. I’m here to help,” you consoled the child the best you could, speaking into your radio to ask for assistance. “Hey, Officer Y/L/N, I need child protective services ASAP.”   

The girl mumbled something, drawing your attention back to her. “What was that, sweetie?” You asked gently, not wanting to make the girl nervous.  

“He hit her really hard... He hit her so hard.” 

Your eyes widened as you put the pieces together.  

“Where? Where did he hit her?” You pressed. 

“On her head!” The small girl broke down into sobs again, causing you to pull her into a hug.  

“Shh, shh, it’s going to be alright now. I’ll take care of you.” It was a promise, you decided, that you would do whatever it took to help the girl. You looked down at her, feeling your heart break. You tried to push out the overwhelming memory that hit your brain and were ringing around, but they overtook your thoughts.  

“No!” You had shouted too loud this time and you watched as your mother turned to you. Your father collapsed on the ground, glass imbedded in his head, and your young eyes watched in horror as the dark red liquid began to pool under his head. His eyes were glossed over, and his chest movements were shallow. You knew what was happening, even at the young age you were, and you knew you couldn’t stop it. He was dead in a matter of minutes, and you were hiding under the table in the dining room, holding a landline phone in one hand.  

“911, what’s your emergency?” The phone spoke to you, and you could only respond in a hushed voice, 

“My daddy’s dead. Mommy killed him.” 

You were snapped back into the reality around you when the girl’s sobbing had slowed into sniffles, and she looked up at you. She pulled away from you, still holding your hand. She couldn’t have been older than eight years old and immediately, you felt an underlying guilt. She reminded you of yourself, in such a similar situation. She began to pull at your hand, pointing towards the street. You pieced together what she wanted and followed her quietly. She guided you about three blocks down before stopping before an apartment complex. She continued to pull you through before stopping in front of a door on the fourth floor. You exchanged a glance at her, silently asking if this was where her mother was. She nodded briskly, and you pulled out your gun from its holster. You knocked on the door, announcing your presence. 

“NYPD, I’m coming in!” 

You opened the door to find almost immediately, right by the front door, the body of a middle-aged woman. The scene was straight out of a crime show, blood splattered across the walls, the smearing of a bloodied hand print on the grip of a counter, and the crumpled, manipulated body of the poor victim. Reaching for your radio, you whispered,  

“We need a whole unit. This just turned into a murder investigation.”  

Exhausted after questioning and dealing with the struggles of filling all working officers in on details from the scene, you just wanted to get in bed and sleep. Jostling with your keys, you heard movement inside your shared apartment. You frowned slightly, it was 2 in the morning, why would Natasha still be awake? You opened the door to find Nat in a sports bra and shorts, sitting on the couch and supposedly engrossed in a book. At first, everything seemed to look fine, if you had ignored the scent in the air and the blotches on Nat’s chest.  

Nat looked up from her book, putting on a half-assed sleepy smile and saying, “So much for a date night, yeah?” 

You scowled, moving past her and immediately going into your bedroom, her trailing you rather quickly. “Yeah, so much for that,” you grunted in response.  

She tilted her head innocently, though you could tell her head was running through every excuse she could come up with. You only frowned further when she went to open her mouth. 

“Save it.” 

That took her by surprise. She definitely wasn’t expecting that, as she rubbed the back of her neck anxiously.  

“I-” 

“No.” You cut her off again, venom dripping from your single word.  

“Baby, you have the wron-” 

“Get out of the bathroom, Ms. Maximoff,” You stated, emotionless. You had noticed from the minute you got home the shadow of two feet in the bathroom, because you knew that both you and Nat always turn the lights off in the bathroom when you’re done. Nat’s eyes widened in shock at the fact that you had noticed. Moments later, the door to your master bathroom creaked open and the tall brunette stepped out. She looked ashamed, and hell, she should be.  

“Hello, Wanda. Long time no talk. No, don’t try to explain how you purposely had sex with my girlfriend, how it was just once and how sorry you are. I don’t want it.” You looked deadpanned at the witch, not an emotion twitching on your face.  

You turned your attention to Natasha, in which you fished your apartment keys out of your work pants and grabbed her hand. For a moment, she thought you’d forgive, maybe ask for an explanation, but no. You slammed the keys into her hand.  

“Keep them, give them to Wanda. Keep the whole damn apartment while you’re at it, asshole.” 

Not even a shake in your voice. Did you even care? Neither Wanda or Natasha could tell. Honestly, you couldn’t either. 

“Pack my shit for me, it’s the least you can do. I’m leaving, I’ll be back tomorrow for my stuff. Oh, and Wanda, you can just help too if you want! Man, you’re on a roll with this whole relationship-ending cheating, aren’t you? I thought you were with Vision now, what happened with that?” You found yourself talking and didn’t even care enough to stop it. You made your way to the door, opening it, looking back at the dumbfounded Nat, who had tears in her eyes and was trying desperately to hold them back, and the relationship-ender herself, Wanda Maximoff, who was shaking and looked like she might cry too if she wasn’t already too embarrassed. 

“Treat her better than you treated me, сука.” You watched as Nat visibly flinched as you bitterly called her a bitch in her own language. Hell, she had already lied to you about being a “foreign politics” major, when she was THE Black Widow of the Avengers, but now she cheats on you with her own teammate. You left right then and there, leaving behind the girl you loved with all your heart and Wanda, the girl you used to love. You slammed the door behind you, listening as Natasha broke down into hysterical sobs. You wished you didn’t care, you wished you didn’t want to turn around and comfort her, tell her you were sorry. But why would you be sorry? You were loyal. You stormed off, putting Kate’s number in your phone and immediately calling her. She picked up on the first ring. 

“Y/N? Why are you calling now? It’s two in the morning...” She stopped questioning things as she heard the tightening of your throat causing little gasps in a futile attempt to breathe properly. You had made it to your car before the panic hit, and you were curled up in the passenger’s seat. Tears slid down your cheeks while empty sobs were all you could manage. “Hey, hey, do you need me or Yelena to pick you up? You need to stay at my place?” You choked out a mumbled yes and within thirty minutes, Yelena was knocking on your window. You opened the door and practically fell into her arms. She said nothing, just rubbed your back soothingly. After a few moments, she had gotten you into a more reasonable state, you were no longer struggling for air, and you could respond to questions.   

“You wanna talk about it?” Yelena had asked, you think. It was still hard to hear with all your own thoughts screaming in your head. You had simply shaken your head and sat silently in the seat of her car as the two of you made your way to Kate’s apartment. When you arrived, it didn’t take long for you to find yourself in Kate’s warm embrace. She asked no questions, thank God, and guided you into the guest room, where she had already set out clothes for you. You told her you would quickly shower and then sleep, and then promised you’d be out of her hair as soon as possible. She insisted that her home was yours too and you could stay as long as you wanted. You appreciated the gesture and gave her a long hug at the doorway of your new room.  

The shower, however, was a horrible idea. You purposely turned the water to the hottest it could get and let the scalding water burn against your skin. You needed to get some sort of feeling, some sort of grasp on reality. You welcomed the pain, but it also left you to your own thoughts. Why? You asked yourself that question a million times over, but no answers popped up. Had you done something wrong? Was it you? Did you react wrong? You sat like that for a long moment, soaking in both your warping thoughts and the burning water. By four, you were out of the shower and clothed. You knew there’d be no sleep for you tonight, so you found yourself in the kitchen.  

Some alcohol, that’s what you needed. Any type would do at this point. Looking through cabinets and opening the fridge at least four times, you were thankful to find a stash of beers in a mini fridge under the sink. You must have had at least 9 bottles of beer in the 12-pack, because when you awoke the next morning, you were hit with one hell of a hangover. Kate and Yelena still asked no questions, which you were so very thankful for. Once the hangover subdued, you asked Kate to drive you back to your old apartment complex to get your stuff and your car, which Kate agreed with as long as they both went because neither one of them really wanted you driving with your hangover.  

Making your way back to the apartment complex was the most painful experience yet, however, as when you arrived at your door, no boxes were sitting out. You sighed deeply in frustration, knowing this was Nat’s tactic to get you inside and try to talk. Instead, however, you glanced at your two friends and they knocked on the door. Nat opened the door almost immediately, but shied back when she saw Kate and Yelena. Yelena, for one, was pissed at her, and she didn’t even know what her sister had done to you, but she knew it was definitely something horrible. All three of you entered, giving Nat the silent treatment, with Yelena shooting Nat a glare so intense you thought Nat might have a hole through her head, and luckily, Nat kept her mouth shut. You could see in the corner of your eye the brunette hair of Wanda, but swallowed down any anger you had. You were too hungover to start a fight and you knew yelling would make this hellish headache go from mediocre to a damned migraine. You grabbed a few of the boxes, with help from Yelena and Kate, and reached the door before you heard the quiet mumble that spilled from Nat’s mouth. 

You turned back, unable to hear what she had said, and despite your better judgment, you stopped to listen. You could see her anxious antics, the way she rubbed her neck, averted her eyes, running her free hand through hair, she was definitely nervous about something.

“What?” You asked in a hostile tone, knowing better than to let your guard down completely. “What the fuck is so important that you think it can fix what you did?”

This caused her to flinch, and you could tell the witch from the bedroom was trying to enter your mind to send some sort of calming emotions. You scowled deeper, rubbing your temples in frustration. 

“Wanda, get the fuck out of my head. It’s already pounding and you’ll only make it worse. Not to mention, I don’t want you in there to begin with. I’m sure I could find some law that I could charge you with, invasion of privacy or something.”

You could feel the brunette pull back her magic and heard the movement of her sulking and drawing her knees to her chest. Nat’s voice brought your attention back to your newest ex-girlfriend. 

“Let me explain. Please, Y/N. Detka, plea-”

“I’m not your ‘detka’, don’t call me that.”

She flinched at that again, and you instantly felt bad. Fuck, why do you feel bad still? You let your eyes linger on her a little longer, before diverting them to look towards Yelena and Kate. 

“Wanda cheated on you with me.”

Your entire body spun now to face Natasha. Your brain malfunctioned and you could only stare with your mouth agape.

“What?”

“Wanda and I have been dating for 4 years. This wasn’t a new thing,” Nat started, but you cut her off before she could go further.

“Was I just your little side fling then? Something to distract you while Wanda was off on her missions? What the fuck, Natasha.” You could feel the tears developing in your eyes, but you wiped at them viciously with your sleeve. 

“No! You weren’t, Y/N. You were the- you are the love of my life. Please, just let me talk, I want to explain, I-.. I love you both.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t get to love both. You chose already, and you chose Wanda, asshole,” Yelena jumped in, practically snarling her words. Kate put a hand on her shoulder, but she was already fuming. “You’re a player, aren’t you? What, are you planning on dumping Wanda for someone else sooner or later and use the same dumb excuse? ‘I love both of you’!” Yelena mocked, throwing her open hand up in outright anger. “If you loved both, you would have been honest with Y/N from the get-go. You’re a lying bitch, Natasha. A lying cheater.” 

You watched as Yelena got dangerously close to Nat, and for a moment, you feared the two would get into a physical argument. Luckily, Kate pulled Yelena back before anything could happen. Kate mumbled to the two of you to just go, which you gratefully agreed with. Yelena sent one last look back at her sister that Nat knew was a warning, and the door closed with a slam. 

Six Days Later

NYPD Bronx Office, 3:42 am

Kate had called your phone a few times now and you still hadn’t picked up. So, in frustration, she made her way to the office herself, only to find you deeply engrossed in a case file. It wasn’t a recent one, which she found odd. She knew you were drowning yourself in the murder case of that woman, so she was surprised to see a case that wasn’t that one. She set down a beer by your desk, which brought your attention back from whatever world you were in. You took it without thinking, then did a double take when you realized it hadn’t been there before. 

You groggily asked in a quiet voice, “Kate..? What are you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing. It’s almost four in the morning, Y/N, you need to sleep,” She insisted, shaking her head in disappointment. You only rolled your eyes and went back to reading. She peered over your shoulder, attempting to look at the case file you were looking at. She frowned when she spotted your last name on the paper. “What’s this all about?”

You glanced up at her, her standing figure towering over your sitting one. “A case file,” you answered plainly, causing her to groan teasingly. 

“You know what I meant,” she said in an annoyed tone, but you knew she was just messing with you. “Whose is it?”

“Mine.” It was another plain response, and at first she thought you were still joking around, but when she looked at you, she realized you weren’t. 

“Oh.” was all she could say. Reading over it again, she noticed it was a murder file. Victim was Duke Y/L/N, your adoptive father, and supposedly the assailant was Leslie Y/L/N, who had slammed your father’s head into a glass table in a fit of rage and then left the house after their child, that being you, had fled into hiding. 

“It’s too similar, Kate. It’s like I’m living in a loop, and all the bad things that happened before are back again. This girl… she’s going through the same thing, only the parents have switched. And I still can’t even tell if it was actually the father!” You shouted in frustration and ended up slamming your knee on the underside of your desk. It didn’t matter how loud you were, you and Kate were the only ones in the building to begin with. 

“What do you mean, ‘if it was actually the father’?”

“There’s no surveillance in the area and she only keeps saying ‘he’ did it. He who? There wasn’t evidence of forced entry, and yet there’s no DNA or fingerprints at the crime scene, as if whoever did it knew what they were doing.” You gripped the sides of your head in anger, trying to calm yourself down. It shouldn’t be irritating you like this, but you can’t help but feel like you’re missing some important piece of evidence that’s right under your nose. Kate could sense your utter frustration and looked at you with worry. 

“You can’t drown away all your problems with work and beer, you know? You need to get out,” she paused, checking her watch, “and get some sleep. Come on, I’ll drive you home, you big idiot.”

You protested but she wasn’t having any of it, dragging you out of the station kicking and screaming. You grabbed your beer and downed it angrily in the car ride home, opening the door to find Yelena up and waiting for you. She gave you a hug, grabbed your hat off of your head, put it on, and grinning stupidly as she offered you another beer. “I say, we drink the night away, ey?”

You appreciated that night, Yelena respected your unasked request of no questions. She knew what you were going through, and she had determined that instead of asking question after question, she’d do what she did best, drink. By 5 am, you were blacked out on the couch and could only half-hear the conversation between your two younger friends. 

“They’re losing it, Kate. I haven’t seen them like this since senior year. When Wanda… you know,” Yelena tried to speak in a hushed voice, but your coming migraine turned the whisper into a whole damn yell and you squinted in agonizing pain. 

Kate rubbed her temples in exhaustion. “I know, Lena, but as long as Wanda and Nat don’t come to our doorstep asking to see Y/N, what are we supposed to do?”

“I could beat them up,” Yelena suggested with a smirk, to which Kate punched her shoulder. “Ow! Okay, okay, geez, I was just kidding. Partially.” 

You groaned slightly, interrupting their conversation and you immediately wished you hadn’t. Both of them turned their attention to you, and you hated having all eyes on you. Kate sighed, pulling you to your feet and stating, “You need to sleep. Honestly, you need to sleep for three days, but we can’t just get that. I’ll call in to the station to let them know that you are sick. You need to sort this all out, Y/N. It’s fucking you up.”

You made no response, laying down on the bed. You laid in the darkness for long enough that you didn’t even know what time it was, but you knew everyone was asleep except for you. You stood, trying to be quiet as you walked over to the unpacked boxes filled with your items. You began sorting them, frowning slightly as you counted that you were two hoodies short. They weren’t your favorites to begin with, but it was an oddity to you. Assuming you were just still too drunk to actually count, you pushed the many thoughts that came into your head to the side, opting to look at your phone for the first time in days. 47 unread messages, 19 missed calls, and… holy fuck that was a lot of news notifications. Your eyebrows furrowed and you pouted as you scrolled through them. 

Black Widow and Scarlet Witch on Official Hiatus due to Unknown Circumstances

Where is Black Widow? 

What Happened to the Scarlet Witch?

The news articles flooded in like a hurricane just hit, and you were just confused. Those two cheated on you for, fuck, probably years by now, and they needed the space? While you were pressed with a murder case, they were off doing God knows what. Probably off of vacation, celebrating their relationship, you decided in your head. Yeah, that’s what they’re doing. Still, you couldn’t shake the awful feeling crawling down your spine. It made you sick, you wanted to puke. 

No, you didn’t want to puke, you absolutely needed to. It was time for another hangover and you rushed into the bathroom as quickly as possible, lifting up the lid on the toilet just in time for the heaves of stomach remnants to splash in the water. You threw up a lot that moment, honestly, it had more to do with your oncoming sobs than the alcohol at this point. You were so exhausted and, as much as you hated admitting it, you missed Natasha’s warmth in these moments. The way she made sure you never got vomit on you, the way she would take away beers before you became a blackout drunk. You missed her caring, you missed her concern, you missed her. Tears stung your cheeks, the choked sobs made it harder to breathe again, but you didn’t care. You needed to get out all the emotions that you had been feeling this entire week. Kate was right, you couldn’t keep drowning yourself in work and alcohol anymore, you needed to face it. 

“It’s over now, Y/N/N,” you convinced yourself, whispering to the nobody in the mirror. Yeah, that nobody was you, and you knew it. You hated it, looking at yourself in that mirror. You hated yourself at that moment, to be frank. It was like looking at a train wreck, because god damn it, you were one. Sighing deeply, you turned around and made your way to your bed. You curled up into a ball, sobs still silently at your throat, and you closed your eyes. It would take a while, but sleep finally took hold of you.

You awoke the next day to find nobody in the apartment. There was a note from Yelena, stating that she was gone to get more food and would be back by dinner. You sighed, this left you to your own thoughts and you didn’t like that. Changing into one of your hoodies, some old college hoodie that you couldn’t remember where you had gotten it from, and a pair of raggedy, ripped jeans, you pulled on your converse and went out for a walk. You didn’t even know where you were going, but you found yourself on the doorstep of that original crime scene. Gulping down a horrible feeling, you opened the door. Surely, you had missed something, right? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anything at first. You walked around the living room, looking at every detail until you felt your foot hit something on the floor. You frowned, looking at your feet with a confused look. It was then that you noticed a slight rip in the carpet. Leaning down, you pulled up the carpet piece. Under it laid a pair of bloodied boots and a revolver. Your eyes widened and you looked around to see if anyone else was around to see this. When nobody popped out, you pulled out your phone. Swiping away some random notification you received, you texted Kate to check back at the scene, telling her you thought something might have been there that they missed. You knew Kate already had a hunch you’d go back there, so you left quickly, leaving the carpet piece pulled up so the on-duty officers would see it. 

You strolled through the city, finding yourself at your favorite café. Smelling the sweetness of freshly baked bread and warm coffee, you made your way inside. Greeted by your friend Peter’s cute little girlfriend, MJ, you ordered your usual black coffee with a bit of sugar and a blueberry muffin. You sat comfortably outside, in a shaded area by a tree, sipping your coffee, you decided to check that notification on your phone that you had received at the crime scene. 

One Unread Message from: Unknown Messenger

You raised an eyebrow at this, clicking on the message. It read: 

Mx. Y/N. It has come to our attention that your connections with both Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were once romantic. By answering this message, you will gain access to their current locations. This was their last wish. Answer now or you may never get another chance.

Your breath hitched and you read the message at least three times over. Your hands were shaking and you could no longer hear your own heartbeat. Hesitantly, you responded.

I would like to know the locations of both of those women. Where are they?

[vilsoo]

୨⎯ CHAPTER THREE ⎯୧

incubus!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

꒰ ✟ ꒱ GENRE: horror, demon au, nsfw 18+, porn with plot.

꒰ ✟ ꒱ SUMMARY: Sex demons are not as provocative as you think they are. Not only do they engage in sexual acts with humans, they thrive off their flesh and haunt them in their nightmares. When an incubus disguised as a Reverend turns a hungry eye on one of the parishioners, gruesome events at the cathedral slowly unfold; blasphemy, gore, and terror...

꒰ ✟ ꒱ CHAPTER WARNINGS: blasphemy, WC: 3,955

PREVIOUS • MASTERLIST • NEXT CHAPTER

written in toji's pov, narration style similar to the Netflix show, "You." this takes place in a fictional setting; St. Reze University & Cathedral.

The morning air had become thicker than the oldest tomes of the St. Reze Clergy House.

Located in the middle of campus was the residence of the clergy along with an administrative office for the local parish. I was sent here an hour ago, deadpanning at the mahogany wooden desk and thought about everything from last night— the way we met, the brief conversation I had with Shoko… But also that screeching, unsettling noise from the stair tower which slightly concerned me.

"Fushiguro. You listening?"

Father Getou Suguru. One of the priests I'm also close with from the clergy. But aside his occupation as St. Reze’s holy priest, I'd feel comfortable drinking with him at a bar or going out to play billiards. Usually his hair would be down when he wears his vestment and cassock, but this morning it was tied back.

Suguru— I refuse to call him Father outside of the church— stood at the opposite side of the room, skimming an old book as he sips his morning tea. His office had varnished brown bookshelves and the fresh smell of brewing beverages. The sunlight tinted of a dusty orange through the large clerestory window, contrasting to the solemnity of this environment.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry. Go on."

I was too drained to listen to him this morning. I could’ve declined or not even show up to this brief rendezvous, but I didn’t want to dig myself in a deeper hole than I already am. He is, after all, the one that pays me for the shit I do. Even if I’m barely involved with the church and its people. There is no doubt that he knows about my blatant and aloof behavior the way Sister Shoko knows as well.

"Remember the other Reverend that got engaged just eight months ago? Their wedding is at the cathedral next month. Interested in helping us?"

I frowned. "Wait— who's getting married again?"

The priest deadpanned at me. "Our fellow Reverend Nanami Kento. I thought you knew this already.”

Feeling indifferent, I watch as the dark liquid swirled around my mug as I held it. "Oh. I forgot."

The priest sighed in exasperation. "I'll pay you extra if you come by and help."

I paused before I could take a sip once I registered his words, averting my gaze right at him. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Of course you would," he taunted. "Is money always going to be your motivation?"

My elbow was pressed on the table and my cheeks rested in the crest of my palm, slightly smirking at him as my drink clanks on the wood. "You know me, Suguru."

The man slaps the book closed with one hand, sliding it back into the shelves. "We'll talk more about it later with the others. Please do not forget the meeting at the chapter house next week. You have to be there.”

I notice him grabbing a few of his things including his vestment. "Leaving for sermon already?"

“I need to be early. Also, I’m leaving you in charge of the conferences in here today.”

How great.

The ominous priest finally left. I continued drinking absentmindedly for the past ten minutes and dwelled at the campus view outside. It was an early Sunday morning and the sermon was starting soon. Fridays and Saturdays are the only days I work at the cathedral, while on Sundays I'm off. Yet here I am in the clergy house when I could've been doing something more productive.

But I didn't care at all, really. This job, this religion, or the coherent idea of a god... I didn't give a damn about the shit I’m required to do in this new life as long as Father Getou paid me— just as he said he would.

I still thought about last night. What a tantalizing night, I must admit. Meeting you for the first time in such a meek state, utterly surprising me with your sullied confession... But then I recalled the unsettling noise I’ve heard from the stair tower. Though there were no screams heard or the smell of blood when Shoko and I reached the first floor, it was something so inhuman to ever think of.

Speaking of inhuman, there was still one thing you haven't known about me yet. An infernal and sinister creature, able to sense the wanton lust of humans and their coiling fantasies, residing within my soul. One that sneakily lodges into one’s nightmares to fulfill their desires… But what also resides with my soul is real mortal blood— the outcome of a half-breed incubus.

Knock knock knock.

I stared at the door for a hot minute with a blank expression, slouching in my seat. I'm usually this lifeless early in the morning, but thanks to that coffee, I managed to stand up and approach the door. But just as I was about to grab the doorknob, my hand froze when I heard a demure voice resonate from the other side. Not from a figment of my mind, not from the faded hues in my memories… It was really you— the sound of your adorning voice reverberating in the back of my mind. And it's been hours since the last time I've heard it.

"Father Getou? You in there?"

I threw away all my inhibitions and opened the door for you. And that was the first time I saw you, really saw you— not shrouded by darkness or drops of rain. The glazing sunlight cutting from the door onto your face like a scalpel, your bare skin radiating and your attire expressed more casually than what you wore last night to the church.

A small smirk slowly crept on my lips. "Father Getou's not here. Need something from him?"

"Oh," you breathed out, slowly trailing your bashful gaze to meet with mines. "I wasn't…expecting you…”

I press my shoulder against the white doorframe as my hand grips onto the opposite side like I was blocking you from coming in. "Looks like we just keep bumpin' into each other, huh. What a coincidence."

You were perfectly in my field of view, sunkissed from the golden daylight. My eyes cast over the rest of your figure, your chest heaving faster and the muscles of your shoulders tightening. This was an odd coincidence now that I think about it. There must've been an underlying reason of coming all the way out here for a conference with Father Getou. It was too bad for you that he left several minutes ago, but not too bad for me to have some company…

"Anything I can help you with?" I coaxed. “If you’re trying to meet with Father Getou, might as well just head to the church where he’s at.”

I watch as you pressed your lips together in uncertainty, your gaze falling to a random corner of the office then back to me. "You know what? It doesn't really matter who in the clergy I talk to. May I come in?"

Feeling slightly convinced, I push myself off the doorframe and make way for you. In cold calculation, I watch the way you hold your breath once you enter, the way your shoulders tensed like the beating of your heart grew erratically. My first time seeing you this nervous and so shy around me.

"So. What brings you here?"

You were standing near Father Getou's desk as I shut the door, glancing at the bookshelves and the plain ceiling absentmindedly. "I wanted to discuss about something that Father Getou might be familiar about," you respond with a sharp exhale. "But… I guess I was too late. I should’ve made an appointment.”

I make my way around the desk where Getou stood earlier as you sat down coyly. You had a dreary expression as you stared into nothing, as if you were ashamed of whatever you were going to say.

"You can tell him after the Sunday Mass," I assured, leaning against the wall with my hands shoved in my pockets.

"I— I don’t know,” you faltered. “Maybe… I think it's better if I don't tell him…”

"Damn. Must've been that bad, huh," I smirked. "Could've saved this for the confession booth, ya' know."

Just like how you confessed to me last night.

"No, no— it's fine," you faltered, your gaze flickering back to my face. "I’m fine talking about this to anyone from the clergy. You’re a Reverend, right? Maybe we should talk more while we have the chance. Get to know each other.”

Get to know each other, huh.

It was something about your face glinting from the gentle sunlight that nearly captivated me. Maybe early Sunday mornings weren't so bad, after all. But after ruminating over your words and this igniting spark of interest I have with a human, especially a woman like you— a man like me would never go this far to give my considerations…

An incubus is meant to prey on women like you. Obsess over them, violate them, make them feel things no other human could do. But I’m not like these sick and twisted incubi. Not even a full incubus. There would be these ongoing battles of cunning, dark, and sinister thoughts and actions within my conscience. I'd feel tempted to ruin and corrupt people for my own satisfaction. But then I also have my humanity— the respect, boundaries, morals, and all of the shit I also abide by.

You left me with no choice. The cause of my sleeplessness and these constant distractions sitting right before me. Definitely harmless just to know more about a woman like you, right?

"Alright then,” I obliged. “You’re a student at St. Reze, right?"

"I am. Third year, graduating with a bachelor’s next year."

I squinted slightly. "How come I've never seen you before?"

"I was gonna ask you that, too," you chuckled. "But maybe because it was my first time attending on a Saturday."

I nodded slowly, recalling your words from your confessional. "I work on Fridays and Saturdays only. Makes sense."

"Something was just really bothering me. I felt like attending that day, so..."

I ambled closer, standing at the opposite end of the table from you. Half-lidded eyes staring meekly into mines, setting fire in my ribs and wading into my rufous flesh, strumming every fiber in my body like I was trapped in your aura. Ominous and tense anticipation between us, right in this office, right at this moment.

I've never felt something like this before. And you probably haven't, either. This hidden desire for you and your hidden desire for me has never tasted this fine, like a restless hunger teasing my tongue…

"I don’t think I've ever gotten your name. I'm Y/N."

I repeated your name in my mind, a name I for sure wasn’t going to forget. "Toji,” I then replied. “Reverend Toji Fushiguro."

"Reverend Toji,” you mused, as if you were ruminating upon my name as well. “Nice to officially meet you.”

I really tried fighting the urge to bring up your confession. But according to the clergy-penitent privilege that Suguru informed me about, they are to remain strictly confidential. Any member of the clergy that overhears a confession are bound by this “seal.” But with everything I’ve witnessed and collected from last night at church, I wanted to ask the most ludicrous questions. I wanted to know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours. Why you came all the way here to the clergy office, what exactly is bothering you to the point you open up to me. Like cracking open your skull and spooling your brain, finding out all your sinister and dark secrets…

My jaw tightened as apart of me begged to know, staring at the bay window overlooking the courtyard and other facilities of the campus. But I decided to not intervene— who am I to care about a mere human, anyways?

"So. You said something was bothering you?” I piqued, refilling my cup of coffee with the machine. “Is that why you came all the way here?”

If I hadn't been paying attention to every move and every reaction you made in this office, I wouldn't have noticed the way your chest heaved slowly and steadily, like you were forcing yourself to calm down. I watched the way your body reacted. A trail of goosebumps. Slight shivers. Robbed of speech. And the way your eyes subtly began to pool with dismay, powerful as a surging storm taking over you…

“Well, this might sound a little bit, uh… carnal, Reverend Toji,” you muttered sheepishly. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, or— you know, see me as a parishioner in a different way…”

"You don't need to worry about that," I assured with a small smirk. "I'm not like Father Getou who's so professional with everything here— especially with that seminary shit. So don’t think I’m gonna lecture you with scripture.”

You chuckled lightly. “Spoken like a true layman. That’s harsh.”

"Yeah, but it's the truth." The warm liquid rushed down my throat as I drank, absorbed with this sudden rush of energy. "I don't really care about this church nor your god. I'm just working here for money— so you can tell me anything."

You gazed down solely at your lap, absorbed in your own thoughts as if this was too difficult to open up about. Your eyes were unreadable from this distance, but every time you locked my gaze for a few moments, they become so irresistible as they take me in.

"Look, I don't know if I'm ready to say it.”

"Enlighten me." I set another drink of coffee for you on the desk, the loud thud of the mug causing your body to snap. “Whatever you say, I’m not gonna hold against you. You came all the way out here this time in the morning, so don’t let this be a waste of time for the both of us.”

A human like you testing my patience was a risky game to play. But for some reason, I was a bit amused by your timid submission… Your chin tilting upwards as you looked at me in silence as I leaned against the bookshelves. Your skin continued to gleam right in my view, eyes taking me in like you were drinking the very sight of me.

After a fleeting moment of hesitance, you grab the cup and sipped carefully, watching your shoulders tense down from the warmth rushing through your veins. I stared for another long moment, both hands on the table and leaning slightly forward. It was quite entertaining, really, how things lead us to this point.

"Friday night I had a dream," you muttered softly, "I couldn't stop thinking about it, which is why I came to the church on Saturday night, seeking for guidance. But this dream was, well… a strange experience for me.”

The moment you spoke of having a dream I immediately knew. Even after finding out you came to church on a day you don't regularly attend was enough to convince me. Carnal. Nightmares. It all made sense. In the vulnerable depths of an innocent human’s mind, a disturbing creature would be quietly lurking, waiting until all is calm when the darkness shrouds over the daylight skies. This darkness incarnate springs to life as a vicious, fang-bearing, gnarly, feral incubus. Born to linger on the fragile edges of your mental state and drawing you in with its sapphire eyes…

The muscles of my jaw tightened as I clenched my teeth together in cold silence. I've learned and witnessed the vile ways of how dreams go with demons like me, and how the aftermath will always remain dreadful for humans to recount. Terrorized by such unfathomable sexual nightmares and disturbing hypnotic states of scintillating salacious lust, night after night…

 “… I was in a dark place. I see some kind of shrine with wide teeth, horns on the roof and many skulls laying around. Then I look up and see this creature— he had four arms and four eyes…”

Your gaze suddenly falls back to me again, this time not directly settled on my face, but I can feel the way you trace my features— sharpened, tensed, deliberately making out every outline of me. I couldn't help but fall speechless, embracing this erratic tension going on from between.

“The things he did to me in that dream, Reverend Toji… It was literally sin. Promiscuous to ever think of, really. I'm really ashamed to say this here, but— for some reason it felt... good. If it's so wrong to think of or do, then why did it feel good?"

I notice the way your voice was honeyed with titillation as you explained, hinting with passion. It amused me— how you found a nightmare so pleasant to you. I suddenly thought of our communion from the night before, how you kneeled before me with a heated look in your eyes— salacious and delirious— indulging in submission just like your nightmare.

I wanted to know what demon snuck in your nightmare. Four eyes? Four arms? A diabolic creature I've never even heard of before. I had to suppress a lot of my thoughts back, trying my best to remain nonchalant.

"A nightmare, huh. It’s not uncommon for students here to confess about this," I prompted. “There’s a whole case study on how it’s affecting them, but you… You said it felt good?”

"I— I did," you mumbled, voice almost shaky. "And I don't know what to do— I feel that my lustful craving has ruined my relationship with God.”

After divulging to me with another abashed confession, I was rather fascinated than concerned. How you took pleasure in a fucking night terror was something I’ve never expected to come from those pretty, saccharine lips of yours. It almost enraged me— how could a human like you entice me like this? I’m supposed to do my job. I’m supposed to follow Suguru’s commands. I’m not supposed to form a relationship with any of the students here. But this was a rippling covet that makes my blood rush with urgency, an urgency to dwell in the sinister parts of me. And I can sense how desperate you feel— that covet you find so sinful, so disgraceful to your god— when in reality it isn't.

"Your desire for lust should never make you feel guilty, Y/N," I coaxed. "After all, didn't your god create us as sexual creatures? It was never deemed a sin; only taught to be one for young women like you."

This time I was speaking my mind. How I really viewed the church that condemns malicious creatures like me. All the years of false and inaccurate teachings, mistranslations, and every concept that never appeals to me. I could go on about it all day, but I suppressed my thoughts back once again.

"I've prayed and prayed that day, Reverend. But yet, I can’t stop dwelling on it. It was a very filthy dream, I admit. But it felt so… intense.”

A nightmare, I mentally corrected. Any dream with an incubus involving sexual and immoral acts are considered nightmares.

I take the opportunity to let my gaze glide over your skin. "I understand how you feel," I feigned, nearly lying to myself that I had to take another sip of my drink. "That covet you find so sinful, so disgraceful to your god— when in reality it isn't. Whoever propagated that purity culture bullshit are the disgraceful ones instead."

Your body fell stiff as the realization hit like a brick to your face, contemplating over my words. "Hm. I think I can see now why you're not so fond of the church,” you bantered, taking another sip of the coffee. “You’re more brutal than Father Geto. He’s there to console and sympathize with his parishioners, but you— You’re very, uh… passive aggressive.”

I scoffed. “That’s harsh.”

“Well, it’s kinda true,” you chuckled. “I mean, we can’t always have our reverends and ministers here console us by just spiritual enlightenment and scripture. It was nice hearing your advice coming from a different perspective. So I thank you, Reverend Toji.”

I agreed. But at the same time, I didn’t care. “Just call me Toji. But just not in front of other people and Father Geto, you know.”

"Speaking of Father Geto…" My heart jolted faster once you shot up from your seat and walked over in front of me, my skin growing hotter as your body drew closer to mines. So close as if you were invading me, but I allowed it— the gap between us growing thin, feeling our body heat fuel and ignite. I was tempted to trace your flesh, uncover the goosebumps lingering on your skin, and take you on right here on this fucking desk…

What the Hell am I thinking? Why am I being invaded with these kind of thoughts?

"… Please don't tell him about our conference and that I met with you," you continued with a low mutter. "It'll be our little secret."

I slanted my head. Our little secret?

Something crept in the grip of my numb hand, hearing the rough folds of paper crumpling. I peer down and notice your fingers gently grazing mines, feeling your warmth and tenderness as you slipped some cash.

"Are you serious?" I whisper. "You know I can't take this."

"No, Toji. It's fine," you beamed. "After lecturing me like that— I really think you are a good man. Doesn't matter who you are or how you view the church."

I clenched the cash in my grip, not realizing how clammy my palms grew. I was already at a loss of words from this strange, erratic feeling in me right now. Slipping money in my hand as you invaded my personal space, breathing in your darling aroma, your irises dancing with the room's fast-changing glow. You then look at my lips. I look at yours. There's a pause.

You slightly inched forward, my entire body falling frozen as you pressed your lips against my cheek. Immediately I was immersed with this sudden softness and sweetness, like laying on a bed made of clouds, plush and impulsive. Warming my bones, melting my center. My heart beat rising, but also trying to soothe.

"’Till next time, Toji," you murmured, your fleeting breath hitting my ear until you turned away and left.

What did you just do to me?

I wouldn’t say your kiss of gratitude on my face was a violation. But though I had no idea where it stemmed from, it felt… pleasant. Perhaps I was somewhat successful playing the role of a Reverend who’s not really in touch with humanity, but tries to just for the sake of understanding people. I just don’t know how to feel from a tender moment that came from nowhere. I was too astonished to register it through my brain— the intimate touch of a human.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. I've studied every line and every form of your figure, the shape of you and the aching in your glinting eyes. How you starve me with those fucking eyes. How I wanted to see all of you right here, right in this office, right on Father Suguru’s desk— gliding across your body with a wicked purpose. There was no way to fight your embrace. I would’ve allowed Suguru to fucking exorsice me for wanting to feed off your forbidden sexual desire. And I was too selfish to let that lame demon in your nightmare feed off it. Not even any man you encounter here could fulfill you the way I plan to.

Only me.

TAGS: @suget @haezen @heavenlyevil @vampnyx @killzenin @diorsbrando @endurablerose @slut-manifesto @screampied

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO/POISEUNS © 2024. originally published April 10, 2021. do not steal, plagiarize, or translate without permission. do not repost or share any of my works where minors have access. art by evok99 on twitter.