#Gore House Productions

[gbhbl]

Rarely do you listen to something and feel like it might genuinely be bad for your health.

[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. 

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Jikininki 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.”

[freshllamapeace]

Till the sun burns out

Remmick x reader

I posted the snippet earlier this week this is the finished product!

Warning - Dead dove do not eat, Gore, Noncon/smut, this is a rough read so you have been warned, probably not my best written smut if I'm honest

Stupid, pathetic, maybe even… desperate. The words described you well enough, wouldn’t you say? A lonely girl with nothing better to do than throw her life away. You do this because you think you're special, you think you're destined for greatness, You think one day you're gonna wake up and be the main character but you aren't. I mean how could you when you’re not even the main character of your own story. You aren't special, you aren’t destined for greatness. The only thing you're truly destined for is to die in this forest. Body broken and mangled while he loomed over you. 

It was clear you were going to die here. No way you get out of this, worst yet you could see the white walls of the house where you grew up in, the soft porch light admitting a warm welcoming glow. If you could have run a few more feet you'd be home safe. But you were just shy of that and he revelled in that. Walking circles around you like a wolf who had just cornered his prey. You hadn't even known what you'd done wrong. What made you deserving of this treatment but it didn’t matter, not anymore. 

Your leg was broken, the bone splintered in half, a jagged end poking out through the skin where your knee was meant to be. Blood leaking down the wound onto the forest floor. Your left arm was gone, ripped apart. The only evidence of it ever being there being the blood and tendons that leaked out of your bicep. The pain was unbearable, indescribable it ached everywhere. You could do nothing but cry and scream. Even your stomach suffered some blows, a large laceration planted diagonally through your chest, your internal organs threatening to spill out. The palm of your right hand was degloved, a sea of red covering the skin that was once there, tendons and muscle clearly on display for you to see. If you’d looked long enough you’d even be able to see the muscles moving, slow and concise. 

Grabbing you by your hair you were lifted from the ground and pressed into the cruel bark of a tree. A screech moved past your lips as broken body parts started to move and bend. “I told you, didn't I? That we’d make sweet sweet music together.” He pressed his mouth against your ear, hot breath assaulting your skin. “I ain’t say how but you were so eager… I ain’t wanna spoil the surprise for ya.” Using his body to keep you stationed against the tree Remmick started to fiddle with his belt. Taking his time to remove it, his eyes stayed stationed on you. Red like an amber sea and teeth glistening in the moonlight, it had been ages since Remmick had played with his food to this degree. Kissing your neck, Remmick allowed his pants to fall to his ankles, his cock in hand. 

“Please, you don't have to do this.” You cried, the cherry colored fluids dripping from your lips onto his chest. Remmick smiled, a smile he often did. It was mocking, cruel and yet the smile looked almost kind… almost. “I know little dove. ” Remmick wasted no time lining himself with your cunt. Pressing his body further onto you, you heard the sound of something stabbing into fresh. It was your bone piercing into his stomach. “Fuck.” He moaned. “You get me all hot and bothered looking like this.” Your gored body turning him on. He was disgusting, a freak of nature. Slamming himself inside you, Remmick gave you no time to prepare before setting the tempo, thrusting at a rough and savage pace. Remmick paid no attention to the bone that pierced his flesh with every thrust. Blood leaking down the wound he had created. Moving his hand down your body Remmick started to play with your clit. The rough circular motions pressed into your skin. You were in pain, your body was aching, the wounds burned and yet your body still reacted to the orgasm forced onto you by him. Your nails digging into his shoulder as you held onto him . You were trembling beneath him, breathing heavy, eyes half lidded. The blood loss was going to catch up with you, soon rather than later. “Fuck.” He groaned, his breathing uneven and his thrust getting impossibly quicker. “Don’t die yet darlin’ I'm almost there.” He whispered in your ear. “There ain’t no God above but if there was he made you just for me.” Soon his thrust started to stutter and slow, his nails began to dig into your skin creating new wounds on your broken body. A groan leaves his lips as he releases all his love and affection into you, the white liquid carrying a red tint to it. Not quite ready to pull himself out of you Remmick thrusted a couple more times making sure that you were filled with every last drop of his cum. 

“I'm going to break you over and over again.” Far too tired and dying from the blood loss the words didn’t register in your mind as anything other than gibberish. But what did register was the sharp pain you felt in your neck and the way he licked at the wound lapping up the blood. When he was done he allowed your body to crumple in on itself, you dropped to the floor. The world went black.

[mychemicalraymance]

My "movies for freaks renaissance" theory is shaping up to be pretty viable tbh. Watch as the movies coming out from 2024-2026 continue to employ extreme and cartoon gore, usually practical. This also applies to the surreal body horror that a24 is pretending isn't their signature move as a production house.

[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 . 

[clairewritesfanfics]

Hi main system 👋. I wanted to ask if you could to invincible variants reaction to reader having a crazy stalker that's just started following her to their home (the stalker just first been writing scary letters to her ) . Stalker ain't even gonna make it an hour but I'd like to see what they're do to the stalker .

Trigger Warnings: violence, gore

It started with notes. Red ink on white sheets, likely torn notebook pages, folded in half and left on the table you considered your spot at the coffee shop. It was just a mild crush. Probably a fellow cafe patron who thought you were cute.

They were relatively harmless, even a tad bit flattering, if you were being honest. 

“You look pretty today.”

“Your blouse brings out your eyes.”

“We ordered the same thing today :)”

Then they got longer. Weirder. Your secret admirer upgraded from scratch paper to scented letters.

“You smell nice. Did you change your perfume? Maybe your shampoo? You seem like a put together girl, I’m sure you use the good, fancy stuff. It would be nice if you told me what products you used. Then it would be like we’re together, always.”

“I noticed you came here with some girl friends. They are lovely, but no one can compare to your beauty. You will always be the most gorgeous thing in my eyes. Your face, your hair, your curves. I love every part of you. I promise never to look at anyone else but you.”

Then they outright terrified you.

“Dear angel of the coffee shop,

Who was that man that came with you last Sunday? 

You two sat so close to each other I felt jealous just watching.

Is that your type of man? 

I didn’t think you would be so shallow. Is it because he’s six feet? Is your gender really that obsessed with height? 

Maybe it’s because he’s built like an athlete? You know he will leave you when someone prettier and younger comes along.

I will never treat you like that. I will love you even if someone better wants me.

I also noticed that you haven’t been coming to the cafe as frequently as before. You used to come here every Monday through Wednesday and sometimes during Saturday. I know it can’t be because you’re avoiding me. That’s impossible, because I already told you how much you mean to me. You would be one giant BITCH if you were avoiding me.

I stayed away because I was too shy, but maybe it’s time for us to officially meet.

If you refuse to come to me then I will have to come to you.”

He would resist the instinct to dispatch the man immediately, because he could see you shaking from the corner of his eyes. So he knocks the stalker unconscious first and has his people imprison him, with strict orders to keep him alive and isolated. His priority is you. He apologizes over and over and holds you in his arms until you fall asleep from crying. Mark is struck by guilt all at once. He should’ve taken those “love letters” seriously. But he was too arrogant, believed that when your admirer saw you with him just once then he would back off. 

After tucking you in and kissing your forehead he finally confronts the one responsible for all your tears. The man is too weak and too pathetic to serve as breeding stock for the Empire, and death would be too merciful. So Mark chooses the only logical option. He gauges the eyes that dare gaze upon you, tears off the hands that tried to touch you, shatters the legs that ran after you. Mark breaks the stalker methodically, until he begs to be killed.

flaxan, target, VILTRUMITE

Mark is furious. Not at you, never at you. But at this insect that threatened your safety. He hated how upset you were about the letters. He saw enough of human society to know that the madness was not going to stop at letters. He told you as such, so he had you go to the police, and that was why he accompanied you every time you left the house. But you were too selfless for your own good; you didn’t want to wake him up from his nap so you decided to go buy ice cream alone. He woke up groggy, but heard your screaming from the front door. He moved instantly and now, he held your stalker by the throat.

Voice taut but not raised, he tells you to get inside. You’re too afraid to protest so you run back into the house. 

When he hears the front door close with a click, he shoots up into the sky, the attacker still in his grasp. This Mark isn’t especially bloodthirsty. He sees torture as a tool for interrogation, but unnecessary otherwise. Face devoid of emotion, he clenches his fist and the man in his hand goes limp instantly. He then throws the corpse in the nearest volcano before flying back to you.

He finds you sobbing in the bed and the ice melts off his body. He joins you under the covers and promises that no one will bother you again.

FULL MASK, maskless, OMNI-MARK, prisoner 

His usual swagger is gone. There is no trace of a smile to be found on his face when he stands between your trembling form and the bastard that broke into your house. Mark glares at him. Then you tug his shirt and he takes a deep breath and forces himself to smile as he talks to you, “Go lock yourself in our room, I’ll handle this.”

But you shake your head against his back. Your muffled voice tells him you don’t want to be alone.

He sighs, but he’s not annoyed. He reaches behind him and gives your thigh a squeeze. “Okay. When I give the signal, cover your ears and don’t look.”

He turns his attention back at your stalker, who is glaring back at him, spouting crap about you belonging to him and that Mark is a fuckboy who doesn’t deserve you. That hits a nerve in your husband and he lifts his knee.

“Now, angel.”

With a single strike, the man’s brain and blood splatter on the walls and the floor.

When Mark realizes what he has done he swears under his breath and gently turns around so he could lift you up and carry you to the living room. “I should’ve done it more cleanly,” he says, wiping your tears away, “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll clean it up.”

You let out a laugh and bury your nose in his chest. Protective arms cover your shoulders as Mark kisses the top of your head. He holds you like he’s afraid that you would disappear. He hates to say it but that asshole was right, you deserve everything. He should’ve been better. Should’ve done more.

head cap, mohawk, SHIESTY

Unlike the aforementioned variants, he didn’t wait for the harassment to escalate. When he identified the man who had been sending you those sickening notes, Mark wasted no time in grabbing him when no one was looking. Brought the sicko to an abandoned cabin deep, deep, deep in the woods somewhere on the other side of the world. Mark doesn’t like being away from you for too long, so he tries to work fast. 

Mark tries to act cool when he plays with his newest victim. But the fucker keeps calling you pet names and slurs, even sharing his deepest fantasies about you. So Mark rips out his tongue, then his arms and legs, and watches him bleed, all while sharing precious memories you two made together. 

sinister, no goggles

image lifted from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-all-alternate-dimension-invincibles-fates/

MASTERLIST | request rules | ask box

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Trump can’t do ANYTHING for his base

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in PITTSBURGH on THURSDAY (May 15) at WHITE WHALE BOOKS, and in PDX on Jun 20 at BARNES AND NOBLE with BUNNIE HUANG. More tour dates (London, Manchester) here.

Trump's coalition includes a huge number of people who will suffer terribly from his policies, but who voted for him anyway. Trumpism requires that he find ways to keep those Christmas-voting turkeys happy, or at least distracted.

Trump's go-to move for keeping his base happy is inflicting pain on people they hate, like immigrants, racialized people, queers and women. That goes a long way, obviously: there's a kind of person who can be distracted from their own deteriorating material condition by the spectacle of cruel treatment for their enemies.

But Trumpism can't just run on sadism. There's a lot of people who enjoy the sadism, but not so much that it cancels out their own rage at their deteriorating personal conditions. Trump's main tactic is to blame the suffering of his base on the rest of us: "radical leftists," "wokeism" and other hobgoblins of the small-minded. That, too, has its limits – especially when Trump controls Congress, the courts, the senate and the White House. Obviously, Trump isn't above blaming his own people for being traitors (e.g., by sending a literal noose-bearing lynch mob after his own vice president), but there are limits to this, even for Trump. If all the power-brokers in Trump's coalitions are branded as disloyal, cowardly, or traitorous, Trump will have no one left to do the actual work of advancing his agenda.

Ultimately, keeping Trump's base happy requires providing some form of material benefit to that base. Every authoritarian has a version of this – like the cash handouts that Poland's former far-right government gave out:

https://pulitzercenter.org/stories/poland-model-promoting-family-values-cash-handouts

For Trump, this presents a problem: because he represents the interests of exploitation, extraction and looting, everything nice that he gives to everyday people in his base potentially gores the ox of someone who really matters to him. It's no surprise, for example, that he reversed Biden's price-cuts for Big Pharma's most expensive drugs – the cheaper drugs are for sick people, the less profitable they'll be for pharma companies:

https://www.levernews.com/trump-already-disarmed-the-war-on-drug-prices/

Luckily (for Trump), Biden's consumer protection and antitrust agencies teed up a long list of extremely good policies that would directly shift money from rich parasites to everyday people. For example, the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau passed a rule that would make it very easy to find out which bank would charge you the least and pay you the most, and let you switch banks with one click:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/01/bankshot/#personal-financial-data-rights

It was a move that would have shifted $667m/year from banks to everyday people, every year, forever. But Trump's most important barons, like Elon Musk, hated the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau and insisted that it be shuttered, so that $667m/year will go to the banks after all – indeed, virtually all of the good things Biden's CFPB decreed the American public would enjoy henceforth have been destroyed. Sure, Trump would have liked to have taken credit for these, but the conflict between stolen valor and displeasing Shadow President Musk will always cash out in Musk's favor.

It's not just the CFPB. The FTC also set up a whole roster of ambitious projects to improve life for Americans. Some of these made the news in a big way, like the antitrust case against Meta:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/04/18/chatty-zucky/#is-you-taking-notes-on-a-criminal-fucking-conspiracy

Trump has lots of upsides from pursuing the Meta case. Everyone hates Meta products, including (especially) the people who are trapped using them because that's where their friends, family, communities, customers or audiences are. Breaking up Meta would be hugely popular with the American people. But also, once a court has convicted Meta of violating antitrust law, Trump can solicit favors – cash and favorable algorithmic treatment – from Meta in exchange for ordering his FTC to go easy on Meta in the "remedy phase," letting them off with a fine, rather than forcing them to spin out Whatsapp and Instagram:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/12/the-enemy-of-your-enemy/#is-your-enemy

But even if Trump lets Meta walk, there's plenty of great stuff Biden's FTC did that he could take credit for – policies that would help everyday people.

The most prominent of these is the FTC's "Click to Cancel" rule. It's a pretty simple rule: companies have to make it as easy to cancel a subscription as it was to sign up for it.

In other words, they can't do that thing – beloved of everything from the New York Times to every manosphere influencer's supplement business – where you can sign up for a subscription with one click, but you can't cancel unless you phone them, wait on hold, and beg them to let you off the hook.

Companies do this on purpose, because it's super profitable. Amazon executives carried on internal email threads where they straight up said that they'd deliberately made it confusingly easy to sign up for Prime and basically impossible to stop paying for it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

This is a no-brainer. Companies make signing up for subscriptions into a greased slide, and they make canceling subscriptions into a greased pole.

No wonder, then, that when the FTC solicited public comments on a proposed "click to cancel" rule, they had no trouble building up the evidentiary record needed to pass the rule.

Now, Trump's FTC has announced that they are delaying enforcement of the rule until mid-July:

https://techcrunch.com/2025/05/10/ftc-delays-enforcement-of-click-to-cancel-rule/

This is the second time they've delayed enforcement (originally, the rule was supposed to go into effect in January). Trump FTC chairman Andrew Ferguson had no trouble getting the votes for the suspension, because he illegally fired the two Democratic Commissioners, Alvaro Bedoya and Rebecca Slaughter:

https://www.theverge.com/decoder-podcast-with-nilay-patel/657115/ftc-bedoya-slaughter-trump-fired-supreme-court-interview

Ferguson is proof that the FTC can't do anything material for Trump's base. Sure, he can set up a snitch-line so tht FTC employees can rat each other out for being "woke":

https://www.ftc.gov/system/files/ftc_gov/pdf/bedoya-statement-emergency-motion.pdf

This should be a slam dunk. It epitomizes the "unfair and deceptive" business practices Section 5 of the FTC Act empowers the agency to snuff out. The Trump admin is unwilling to gore the ox of out-and-out scammers, people who trick you into unkillable subscriptions. It seems that there's no material benefit that Trump's oligarch backers are willing to cede to working people. All they can offer is cruelty.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/12/greased-slide/#greased-pole

Image: Vis M (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Slide_at_Thenmala_deer_rehabilitation_center.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[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

[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…

[coffeecqke]

The Thrill of the Kill

written by coffeecqke

Y/N x Ronin - Killer Chat!

WARNINGS: Murder, ‘Gore’, Suggestive scene

So today’s the day. Today is the day you suck it up and do as he asked. As your devil wanted. Your nerves are as active as ever, adrenaline pumping through your veins and you haven’t even done anything yet.

Just the thought of actually killing someone scares you but also… excites you in a way? You’ve heard all your friends Misaki, Angel, Feli, so many of them talk about their murders. You’re finally going to join them, you won’t be the odd one out.

You’re not just gonna be a writer anymore…

You have already planned a target and a method, you just need to get your ‘materials.’

You grab your duffel bag, crowbar, and cleaning products. You mustn’t get caught on your first kill, it has to be perfect. Ronin has to be proud.

You stuff your bag full and head out, on your way to the victim’s house.

The victim is a woman, probably in her late twenties. She’s got long, ginger, silky hair and vibrant green eyes.

Normally, you’d probably go for a man.

But this girl.

This girl flirted with Ronin and expected to get away with it. That’s not happening.

The crowbar fits nicely in the back of her head, spewing out blood onto you. Good thing you’re prepared, isn’t it?

You swing your crowbar again, this time catching her neck. You listen as her screams turn to gurgles and…

Silence.

Now, it’s time to harvest her aorta!

The knife slides smoothly through her bare chest, perfect.

With your gloves on, you push your hand inside of the hole you made, fishing out her heart.

You’ve seen enough of Ronin’s grotesque murders to be nauseated by this one.

—

<goreboy>: Y/N

<goreboy>: you Up for coming Over?

<Y/N>Let’s meet in Purgatory. <3

<goreboy>: damn, Alright.

<goreboy>: Got something Planned?

<Y/N>: Maybe… :3

—

You stand in Purgatory as you wait for Ronin, holding your duffel bag.

He strides into the alleyway, looking for you. “Y/N! Whatchu got there, darlin’?” Ronin called out to you and you smiled wide. “Ro! I got you a present, I think you’ll like it a lot.” You ran up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around your waist. “Mhm? What is it, doll? Show me.” You both let go and you begin to unzip your duffel bag. Ronin watched intently, grinning. You pulled out the heart you carved out of the woman and handed it to Ronin. Your cheeks flushed. You had always told Ronin you’d kill for him, but never kept your word. Now you’re finally proving how much he means to you and your heart began racing.

Ronin took the heart, placing his free hand on your cheek. He gave you a kiss, “Fuck, darlin’, your first kill? What have I done to my pretty little writer?” Ronin grinned, “Good fuckin’ job, baby. I’m so proud.”

He leaned in, kissing your lips. You kissed back, deepening it. He slid his tongue between your lips, tangling with yours, exploring your mouth like an uncovered cave. His hand found the back of your head, lightly gripping your hair. A small moan escaped from your mouth, your hands wrapping back around his neck. Ronin broke the kiss to place kisses down your chin, down your neck, and went onto leaving hickeys on your collarbones. Sucking, biting, leaving red marks all around.

“You wanna take this somewhere else.. or fuck here?” He spoke in a deep voice, his eyes darkened by lust. You felt your face go hot, imagining taking him in his favorite alleyway.

“Here…” You squeaked. You could feel yourself beginning to drip, thinking of all the possibilities.

“Fuck, I love you, darlin’.” He spoke with a grin.

[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

[ppnuggiexxx]

Could we please get a soft, sweet oneshot of the reader braiding Satan’s hair because she loves it so much?? 🙏🙏

-> braiding satan’s hair || whb

• sfw | implied female reader

• sorry for the lateness !! hope you enjoy :3 !! tysm for being one of my first requests ♥️

any time he would sit down beside you ,, on your lap ,, or just in front of you it was like your hands already knew what to do . they'd always find themselves in his hair ,, kneading through it and untangling any knots that formed . you were careful around his horns though ,, knowing how much of an erogenous zone it was .

satan could deny that he liked your hands messing with his hair ,, though you and his nobles knew otherwise . it wasnt like they would think differently of their king for having such soft moments . they knew how much it put him at ease ,, a sort of stress reliever from the continuous angel attacks and dealing with the other kings .

" did you use a new shampoo ?" you asked out of the blue . his hair smelt different ,, more floral-like than usual . often it smelled of smoke if you caught him after an angel attack ,, other times of oil or gasoline when he was working on his bike . today however was different ,, as no angels showed up to wreak havoc (maybe it had to do with it being sunday ?) and satan had no meetings with his nobles or the other kings . nor had he been working on his bike today .

" it was something paimon recommended i use ,, why ?" satan asked ,, eyes focused on the show in front of you both . " it smells good on you ,, what brand was it ?" it wasnt out of the norm for paimon to recommend you different brands down in hell for you to use . it didnt matter what it was : makeup ,, nail polish ,, clothing ,, even food-wise paimon would always have the best recommendations . he's one of the few to get you to try food that looked unappealing that actually had tasted quite well . any time you went out to eat with him you'd often ask for his recommendation of what tasted good based on your own tastes .

        " are you saying i dont always smell good ?" satan's attention turned from the tv and towards you ,, angling his head up to look at you . " no ,," you rolled your eyes ,, " it was just different today ,, thats all ." satan eyed you for a moment then returned his gaze to the screen .

        " it was this new company that just released hair products ." satan informed you ,, yet kept it vague . " theyre a company from tartaros ." he added quietly ,, narrowing his eyes towards the tv . you only hummed ,, raking your fingers through his hair and dividing a small strip of it into three strands . " ill have to keep an eye out then ."

        carefully you crossed the strands over one another ,, making a small but simple braid on the back of his head . it wasnt as though you used all his hair ,, that wouldve been quiet difficult considering how much there is and how thick it is .

        you were thankful for soft moments like this; being able to enjoy your lover's presence without a worry for whether or not more people would die . it was easy to get caught up in the pain and commotion angel attacks would bring; the gore and massacre angels would cause towards the devils residing in gehenna . it felt that every day led to more bloodshed ,, every house built meant another dozen destroyed . it felt almost meaningless to even continue to reside in the nation ,, but the king and his citizens were strong willed . they wouldnt allow their beloved country to be taken out so easily ,, and its the main reason the angels' attacks havent been as useful to their plans .

        even without the help of other nations gehenna has upheld itself thanks to its residents . strong and loyal to their nation and king ,, they continue to fight for their country and freedom . it was admirable ,, how long theyve fought for their land yet how long theyve lasted against the angels .

        your fingers weaved the strands back and forth ,, finishing the first small braid and moving on to make another . " anything special you want to do later today ?" you asked ,, inquiring for his answer . some days satan wanted to just spend alone with you ,, having domestic moments such as these or doing other things . other times he would take you out with his nobles to a bar in gehenna ,, or a restaurant to celebrate another victory .

        " a new cafe near the outskirts of gehenna opened ,," his smiled widened . " wanna see what sort of treats they have ? i already heard from leraye that they have good cakes ,, and sitri complimented their tea ." the king shrugged . it seemed the moment you turned on a show from your childhood (thanks to the power of youtube) satan has been stuck to the tv screen like an ipad kid with cheetos . maybe you should implement a screen time limit ,, but it was reminiscent how he was the same way as you were as a kid .

        your eyes were stuck to the screen ,, interested in what the characters would do next to solve the problem . with how preoccupied your mind was you didnt even realize how many small braids you'd made in the devil's hair . they were scattered around ,, but definitely looked nice . though a few you could tell were somewhar scrappy . maybe you should ask paimon for some cute little hairpins to put in satan's hair ,, maybe a little kitty or some hearts to hold some of the braids in place next time .

        " what time you want to leave by ?"

[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."

[thecreaturecodex]

Glasgavlen

Detail from "Mythical cattle 3" © deviantArt user Cyclone62. Accessed at her page here.

[The British Isles are full of monster dogs and monster cattle. This might be what happens when you spend more than a millennium systematically destroying any trace of unmanaged natural environment from your island. Or simply because dogs and cows are the animals most likely to be encountered in the day to day, and so stories about them spread, especially when they don't behave "right". This entry started under the name Hedley Kow, which isn't particularly cow-like and is more akin to any other British road bogie. The Glas Gaibhenn of Irish mythology, stolen by Balor as a quest Macguffin, did what I wanted my fairy cow to do: act as a Watsonian explanation for fey feasts having dairy products when tabletop RPG fey don't include "stealing milk" as one of their major pastimes. So I ended up mashing the two ideas together, a rare bit of lumping for me as far as my monster philosophy goes. But really, how many different fairy cow monsters could I write and make mechanically distinct?]

Glasgavlen CR 3 CN Fey If not for the intelligent and puckish gleam in its eye, this could be mistaken for an ordinary cow. That is, it could be if its fur wasn’t a mossy green.

The glasgavlen goes by many names: fairy cow, goblin cow, dun cow, hedley kow, bull-beggar. This panoply suits these fey cattle just fine, as they thrive on chaos. Glasgavlens often have wildly divergent activities and personalities, alternating between benevolently providing food by day and maliciously pranking and scaring people by night. Although their natural form is that of a cow with a slightly shaggy and very colorful pelt, they can change colors at will to blend in with ordinary cattle. When in trickster mode, they often disguise themselves with illusions to appear as humanoids, fey or even inanimate objects.

Glasgavlens are supernaturally skilled at converting food into milk, and a single glasgavlen can produce around fifty gallons a day. Many glasgavlens come around to offer their milk to various households in the area in the guise of a mundane cow, sometimes with a confederate to speak on their behalf, but often just as a seemingly random bit of good luck. While being milked and grazing near people, they listen to conversations in order to suss out bits of local gossip, personal insecurities, or other information to tailor their pranks for maximum impact. They often harass the same people they help, giving them the necessities of life but making said lives full of exciting and bewildering incident. Glasgavlens are especially fond of punishing greed, and people who try to take more than their fair share of milk are likely to get the most savage pranking, up to and including violence.

Glasgavlens provide their services to the fey free of such strings attached, and often sweeten the deal by magically transforming some of their milk into more shelf-stable products like cheeses, butter and yogurt. They are often on good terms with house fey like brownies and domovoi, who might know the bull-beggar’s secret identity as a local nuisance (whether or not they share that information is based on the house fey’s personality and relationship with their mortal clientele). Some fey even ride glasgavlens into battle as steeds, but the hedley kows make sure that such arrangements are viewed as even partnerships, and turn on riders who don’t respect them.

A glasgavlen can change its biological sex as readily as it does its fur color, allowing all individuals to father offspring, bear offspring or give milk as they see fit.

Glasgavlen CR 3 XP 800 CN Large fey Init +2; Senses low-light vision, Perception +7, scent

Defenses AC 15, touch 11, flat-footed 13 (-1 size, +2 Dex, +4 natural) hp 32 (5d6+15) Fort +6, Ref +6, Will +4 DR 5/cold iron; SR 14

Offenses Speed 40 ft., fey step Melee gore +5 (1d6+3), 2 hooves +3 (1d4+1) Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft.

Spell-like Abilities CL 5th, concentration +7 At will—dancing lights, ghost sound (DC 12), mage hand 3/day—animate rope, scare (DC 14), warp wood (DC 14) 1/day—golden guise (DC 15), mind maze (DC 15), veil (self only, DC 18)

Statistics Str 19, Dex 14, Con 17, Int 12, Wis 11, Cha 14 Base Atk +2; CMB +6; CMD 18 (22 vs. trip) Feats Deceitful, Great Fortitude, Multiattack Skills Acrobatics +8 (+12 jumping), Bluff +11, Diplomacy +9, Disguise +11 (+19 as cow), Intimidate +9, Knowledge (local) +8, Perception +7, Sense Motive +7, Stealth +13; Racial Modifiers +8 Disguise as cow, +8 Stealth Languages Common, Goblin, Sylvan SQ adjustable veil, color change, mimicry (animal sounds, voices), transmute dairy

Ecology Environment temperate hills and plains Organization solitary Treasure special (see text)

Special Abilities Adjustable Veil (Sp) When a glasgavlen uses its veil spell-like ability, it may adjust what its appearance is as a standard action. Creatures that have successfully saved once against the illusion do not need to save again, and creatures that witness this adjustment are granted a Will save to recognize the effect as an illusion. Color Change (Ex) A glasgavlen can change the color of its fur at will. This grants it a +8 racial bonus on Disguise checks to resemble a mundane cow, and a +8 racial bonus on Stealth checks. In addition, a glasgavlen can make Stealth checks without cover or concealment. Fey Step (Su) A glasgavlen can teleport up to 50 feet a day as a move action. It may split this teleportation up as it sees fit in 10 foot increments. Transmute Dairy (Su) Three times a day as a standard action, a glasgavlen can transform up to 5 gallons of milk within 150 feet into the appropriate volume of yogurt, cheese, butter or equivalent dairy products.

[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.