#I thought he was from an obscure anime

[gothamcitycentral]

.

[sttoru]

dad!Toji losing megumi on his sight in a grocery store.

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.

“where the hell did that brat go. . .” toji sighs in frustration as he makes his third trip around the numerous aisles, peeking through each gap between to see where his son could’ve possibly hid.

you had been gone for one minute to grab something you had forgotten in the car, leaving your husband and son alone at the grocery store. you thought toji would be more than capable of keeping an eye on megumi during the time you left.

he did succeed for a couple seconds, but then somehow lost sight of the little boy. it happened out of the blue—even for someone as quick as toji, his child seemed to have disappeared into thin air, without him noticing at all.

“tsk, just wait ‘til i catch ya..” toji scoffs and makes quick strides. the other customers seemed to scurry off to the sides as the dark-haired man passes them—the reason for this being his bulky and tall body and that cold yet pissed off expression on his face whilst walking forwards.

of course, toji was still secretly worried for megumi. he didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario at all. he needs to stay calm and collected in such situations. panicking will do him no good.

toji passes by a pit of plushies, paying it no mind until he hears a soft, muffled giggle from that same area. he stops in his tracks and turns his head to the right. that voice was one he could recognise from miles away.

“oh, y’re so done.” the dark-haired man mutters under his breath and digs through the many plushies, hands looking for the source of that giggle. there were a couple strands of dark blue hair sticking out from between the big stuffed animals and toji wasted no time, “c’mere, brat.”

he uses a bit of his strength and fishes out a child from under the pile of softness—his child.

“papa!” megumi squeals and was holding onto a plushie: a cute black dog one. it seems like he had waddled off and climbed onto the box to grab that specific plushie, but couldn’t get out afterwards, “papa, waf! waf!”

toji sighs and holds megumi up by the back of his shirt, walking back to your shopping cart. he gains some stares due to the obscure way he was carrying his son around, though megumi himself couldn’t care any less as he cuddles up to the plushie in his tiny arms.

toji puts the little boy in the baby seat and grabs onto the stuffed animal, tugging at it; “gimme that. ya can’t have it ‘cause ya ran off without tellin’ me.”

megumi whines and pulls the toy back in his arms, giving toji a pleading look. his lips formed a desperate pout and his eyes were starting to glisten with tears that appeared on his waterlines.

“yeah, stare at me all you want with those big bug eyes—y’re not gonna get that.” your husband shakes his head and grabs the plushie again, taking it away from his son to put it back.

megumi reacts to this by curling his chubby hand around toji’s index finger—still with that cute pout on his lips whilst trying to prevent his dad from stepping away. it’s specifically those shiny blue orbs that seem to mellow toji’s heart to the point he almost gives in.

“…”

you come back after five minutes and spot your family back in the candy aisle. the duo didn’t appear to have seen you yet since they were busy picking out some sweets for later.

“hi, my angels.” you creep up behind toji and tap his back. he instantly steps aside and your (surprisingly) super excited son comes into view.

megumi was smiling widely and that’s when your eyes land on something in his arms.

“oh, you got ‘gumi a dog plushie!” you gasp and seem to get excited for your child—megumi giggling right alongside you, “how nice!”

toji rolls his eyes, though wasn’t about to admit that he eventually did give in to megumi’s adorable tactics. he gently flicks the little boy’s forehead and looks back at you;

“didn’t get it for him out of my own free will.” your husband grumbles and then continues to squish megumi’s cheeks together using one hand, “this little brat threatened me.”

“i’m sure he did.” you chuckle and nudge toji’s side with your elbow. you knew just how much of a softie really is for his son.

“i’m not lyin’,” toji replies with a sigh and pushes the cart ahead, you following next to him with a smile, “he threatened me with those big eyes of his. i’m tellin’ ya, that stuff is dangerous.” —for my heart, he adds in his head.

you couldn’t contain your laughter as you hear your lover’s words. your gaze then lands on megumi, who was contentedly staring up at both his parents, cuddled up to the big stuffed animal.

“good job.” you gave megumi a thumbs up and ruffle his hair as a reward. the kid sticks his tongue out and almost looks proud of the fact that he got his way in the end.

toji really was just a big softie for his son. and for his wife as well, of course.

[baldval]

VALENTINE'S DAY W HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox, charlie, valentino, lucifer, adam, lute, alastor

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, slightly suggestive content if you're reading adam.

VOX:

𖹭 the place is absolutely decorated when you get up in the morning.

𖹭 i'm talking heart balloons, flowers, and rose petals all across the floor.

𖹭 when you come into the living room, he's still in his jammies and sitting on the couch.

𖹭 you loved when he looked like that, so carefree, a contrast from his usual self.

𖹭 "Vox, what's all this?" you ask smiling

𖹭 "it's all for you, obviously."

𖹭 he stands up and walks towards you, he lifts you up and spins you around.

𖹭 you place your hands on his chest as he gently lowers you back to the floor.

𖹭 "you deserve the entire world," he whispers.

𖹭 he plants a kiss on your lips and you instantly blush.

𖹭 with a foolish smile, he wishes you a happy Valentine's Day.

𖹭 you give him lots of kisses, leaving marks all across the screen.

𖹭 you say, "I have something for you."

𖹭 "you do?"

𖹭 "duh" you chuckle

𖹭 you were aware that Vox had his eye on this watch.

𖹭 it had this gorgeous crimsom strap that matched his tie. 𖹭 when he notices it, all he does is look at you. 𖹭 love obscuring his vision 𖹭 he's amazed that you're his. 𖹭 and he feels quite fortunate. 𖹭 he carefully places the watch on the counter. 𖹭 then gives you a kiss so intense you almost feel like you're actually in heaven.

CHARLIE:

𖹭 when you walk in to your room, there are roses on your desk.

𖹭 with an enormous chocolate box of course

𖹭 and a, quite long, love letter

𖹭 the fact that she can't wait to just see you and be able to actually hold you

𖹭 you're grinning broadly to yourself.

𖹭 and you joyfully shove chocolate after chocolate into your lips.

𖹭 she doesn't meet you in the lobby, like you thought she would.

𖹭 she appears at your room.

𖹭 "hi, babe," she exclaims, excited.

𖹭 she approaches and greets you with a kiss.

𖹭 "thank you so much for everything. you say to her, "I have something for you too, you know."

𖹭 she is unable to remove her lips from yours.

𖹭 you take something out of a desk drawer as you pull her into your lap. 𖹭 you pry it open, and she lets out a half-gasp.

𖹭 you were able to get her a unique, gorgeous necklace. 𖹭 at the center is a quite shiny heart. 𖹭 you help her put it on, and the chain fits neatly around her clavicle. 𖹭 she has what is probably the biggest smile you've ever seen. 𖹭 from now on you notice, she never, ever removes the necklace.

VALENTINO:

𖹭 extravagant king.

𖹭 his name is literally Valentine so of course he'll take the day off for you.

𖹭 you and him are hand in hand on a pier.

𖹭 he's obviously wearing his best clothes, and of course you are too.

𖹭 before you know it, it's just the two of you on a small yacht.

𖹭 and the necessary employees, but they're not the main focus.

𖹭 he lavishes you with presents

𖹭 chocolate, that perfect piece of jewelry, and a tiny plush animal that he says reminded you of him

𖹭 you share a meal on the balcony while chatting and having fun.

𖹭 all while playing footsie beneath the table.

𖹭 he seems to be focusing solely on you when you talk to him.

𖹭 because he really is, staring at you with adoration.

𖹭 with your backs against each other, you sit in the living room.

𖹭 your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers comb through your hair

𖹭 he breathes steadily and deeply.

𖹭 "i wouldn't really mind if this was all we did for the rest of our lives," he says

𖹭 you plant a kiss on his shoulder while gazing out to sea.

𖹭 "that wouldn't bother me either,"

𖹭 in some way, he draws you even nearer to him.

𖹭 he kisses your face all over

𖹭 "well that's great. since you're everything to me."

LUCIFER:

𖹭 truly a hopeless romantic

𖹭 his pissing in his underwear while waiting for you.

𖹭 you open the door and say hello to him.

𖹭 the ceiling and walls are illuminated by candlelight, creating a dim atmosphere.

𖹭 there are rose petals all over the path that leads to the living room.

𖹭 you walk slowly towards him.

𖹭 he's kinda just standing there.

𖹭 and it's pretty obvious he's nervous.

𖹭 he grabs hold of your hands and draws you in.

𖹭 "hey," he says, his voice cracking right away.

𖹭 "i missed you," you say

𖹭 he murmurs back, "yeah, I missed you too, so much."

𖹭 for a small instant, he remains silent.

𖹭 but he goes on after that.

"i love you so much, and i know we've talked about how we both want to get married. and, i'll be honest, i can't imagine my life without you, and i'm just so... so in love with you, and I'm sorry, I'm rambling, it's just-" he stops suddenly, taking a deep breath.

𖹭 as he drops to one knee, his hands follow your hips and sides. 𖹭 he takes out a tiny velvet box from inside his coat. 𖹭 you have mentioned getting married before. 𖹭 and you are well aware that he is pretty much your soulmate. 𖹭 and it's Valentine's Day, so of course, he's popping the question. 𖹭 and you naturally answer: "yes". 𖹭 he stands up rapidly, your lips colliding with his. 𖹭 he tightens his grasp around the small of your back. 𖹭 he will always hold onto you.

ADAM:

𖹭 the sun began to set on valentine's day.

𖹭 adam, as charming as they come, is dressed to impress.

𖹭 he strutted alongside you as you walked towards a bench.

𖹭 the bench had this incredible view of the sea.

𖹭 adam sat down right beside you, your thighs touching.

𖹭 the times where adam was in silence were not many, yet always impactful.

𖹭 you stared at the sun as he stared at you.

𖹭 his eyes were fixated on your face, analysing your features.

𖹭 "why are you looking at me like that?" you're blushing.

𖹭 "i got something for you." he avoids your gaze now.

𖹭 clearly, adam is not used to vulnerability.

𖹭 and there was something about him being with you that just made him feel seen.

𖹭 he takes out a small box.

𖹭 "it's nothing really" he says as you open it.

𖹭 inside there's a mixtape.

𖹭 you read the names of the songs, not recognising any.

𖹭 "are these yours?" he nods.

𖹭 "the last one is named after you, actually"

𖹭 you look at him, eyes wide open, surprised at his gesture.

𖹭 with a sly smile and a playful roll of your eyes, you leaned in to steal a kiss, your heart fluttering with excitement.

𖹭 "who knew the first guy to ever exist would be such a romantic?" you teased, unable to hide the fondness in your voice.

𖹭 "you should play the mixtape as we fuc-"

𖹭 "of course you had to ruin it" you chuckle as he smirks.

𖹭 he wraps his arm around your shoulder and you lay your head on his chest.

LUTE:

𖹭 she gives you several quick kisses to wake you up.

𖹭 "hey, sleepyhead. i need you up.

𖹭 you blink away the sleepiness, as she continues to plant lips on your cheeks and jaw.

𖹭 "come on, babe, we have a reservation," she whines.

𖹭 "a reservation, huh?"

𖹭 "yes, please get up right now."

𖹭 she puts on a sharp dress shirt and matching dress pants.

𖹭 she gives you a bouquet of your favorite flower as you meet her at the door.

𖹭 she takes one of the flowers, clips it, and tucks it behind your ear.

𖹭 you then walk to a close cafe, arm in arm.

𖹭 it isn't really that fancy but it is beautiful.

𖹭 the place is filled with tulips and it smells like what you figured spring would smell like.

𖹭 in a quiet space, a table is already prepared for the two of you.

𖹭 you two laugh while eating breakfast.

𖹭 you two could chat for hours on end and never get bored.

ALASTOR:

𖹭 he's just getting started with all of this relationship stuff.

𖹭 he had no one to share valentine's with before to this year.

𖹭 thus, he is anxious and perplexed.

𖹭 but of course he will do everything in his power to hide it, keeping his smile to appear calm.

𖹭 after work, he brings a bouquet home with him.

𖹭 they are your favourite colour and flower.

𖹭 because of course he knows every single thing that you love.

𖹭 and he brings cake instead of chocolate.

𖹭 "aw, Alastor." you blush

𖹭 "well, i didn't find any chocolate boxes shaped like hearts, but i did find a cake shaped like a heart."

𖹭 you chuckle

𖹭 but it doesn't truly bother you

𖹭 quietly, he says, "i made sure to get your favorite flavor, and i swear there's no human parts in this"

𖹭 "it may not be much, but it is what I could find,"

𖹭 you interrupted him with a kiss.

𖹭 "Alastor" you say his name and his eyes flutter.

𖹭 "i don't think you could ever guess how happy you make me"

𖹭 he feels like his heart is trying to burst out of his chest. 𖹭 he draws you into a close embrace. 𖹭 you spend the evening eating cake and snuggling on the couch.

[sayoneee]

☆ POISON

“miss her, kiss her, love her, wrong move you’re dead, that girl is poison” - bell biv devoe (2.2k)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite! reader. acquaintances to friends to secretish lovers. silena + drew mentions. during tlt.

kashaf’s note: u cant tell me a group of teenagers lived together at summer camp and no one had secret parties. dont @ me for the 90s music references (+ i imagine avantika vandanapu as silena, and momona tamada as drew)

i. and if there was a problem / yo, i'll solve it

“CASTELLAN?” YOU APPROACHED him slowly, tone cautious as if you were speaking to a wounded animal, although in this case, maybe you were, as you reached for his bruised knuckles, remaining persistent, even as he tried to withdraw his hands out of your grasp. “why’d you do that?”

“did i need a reason?” there is a forced jocularity to his words, a well-practiced mask he is never seen without, and you cringe slightly, your gaze catching the grimace that twists his lips. his attempt at a ‘roguish’ grin falls flat, the expression a discordant note against the backdrop of his injuries. luke’s already busted lip splits open, a thin line of crimson carving a river down his chin. he moves to wipe it off the back of his arm, but you’ve already pulled off the bandana tying up your hair (a birthday present from a half-sibling) and begun rubbing at his face.

luke’s eyes widened at the gesture.

despite being tentative acquaintances since your arrival, you’re still annoyed that luke castellan continues to underestimate just how much of his heart he wears on his sleeve — or rather, just how well you manage to see past his facade. his blatant lie hangs in the air, unacknowledged. instead, you deliberately shift your gaze to the purples and blacks that mar his knuckles, setting about wrapping them with your bandana, obscuring the damage.

“i could’ve done that myself,” luke says, amused, his words lightly appreciative. still, at your answering glare, he tosses his hands in the air in surrender as ‘ice ice baby’ continues in the background, uninterrupted, “but thank you, though.”

“i’m no apollo kid, but it’ll do,” you shrug instead of accepting the gratitude, tugging him to his feet, ensuring to grab his uninjured hand, and hauling him outside. 

“you’re no apollo kid, and you decide to take the injured man away from where the apollo kids are actually gathered,” luke muses, once again entertained with himself (was there any other emotion this boy could experience besides amusement?), once the lights of the apollo cabin are so far behind you, neither of you could fully see each other.

“you’ll live,” you say, scowling at him through the darkness, forgetting he couldn’t actually see you.

“and you’re moody for a daughter of aphrodite,” he says, still holding onto your hand as he trails after you.

you stop in your tracks, pinch the bridge of your nose, count to three, and finally turn to luke, who still has his stupidly pleased-with-himself expression on his face. “luke castellan, if you don’t end up dying of some tragic fate or the other i will hunt you down myself.”

“duly noted.”

“holy hera, do you even want to know where i’m taking you?”

“nah, i think the mystery really adds some suspense.”

“that’s it, i give up,” you say, before beginning to drag him back to the apollo cabin, when he plants his feet in the dirt ground firmly, grinning crookedly at you as the moonlight finally shines through the clouds, suddenly bathing him in a luminescent glow.

“nah, c’mon, let’s go to your spot.”

you glare at him, watching how his stupid grin only seems to grow in size, an annoyingly endearing trait. with a sigh, you continued to drag him along, scowling each time he tried to make a quip.

“what if we get to your spot, and i find out this was all just a ploy to murder me?” luke muses out loud, looking thoughtful for once.

“do you seriously believe that if i was gonna murder you, i wouldn’t have done it by now?” you say, pausing when he shrugged in agreement, “we’re here though, whiney baby.” 

luke’s eyebrows rose as he took in the secluded area near the dunes, finally meeting your gaze again. “aw, i can’t believe you just planned out our first date.”

“i seriously don’t know what any of my half-siblings see in you.”

“so you’ve discussed me then.”

“shut up, i dragged you all the way here, because even though i know you like attention, i don’t think you wanted the attention you were getting from punching that poor hephaestus kid in the jaw,” you say shockingly sincerely, startling both yourself and luke.

luke doesn’t say anything, letting what seems like a confession hang in the air, instead, sits down near the water, and rubs a hand across his jaw, watching you as you follow suit, sitting next to him. 

after spending what seems like minutes in silence, watching the waves lap at the shore, luke finally speaks, staring out at the horizon, his tone slightly hollow, and devoid of all things you have come to label as luke castellan, looking eerily similar to the night he had returned from his infamous quest, “heroes aren’t meant to be happy.”

you drew your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head. “i know — achilles, orpheus, theseus…” you trail off.

“and hercules,” luke adds, almost melancholy. 

“i think i’ve pretty much accepted i’ll die young,” you say, your words coming out in nothing but a whisper despite the two of you being alone.

luke nods in solidarity, lost in thought. “it shouldn’t have to be like this,” he finally says, voice hardening.

ii. talking sweet and looking fine / i get kinda hectic inside

“okay, for this technique, i’ll need a partner,” luke says, looking straight at you. “can you come up here?”

deciding to oblige him, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly, smiling as you joined him in front of the other campers, who had begun whispering when he called out to you. in the crowd, just past your half-siblings looks of shock, you can see the stolls passing around a wad of cash. 

luke addresses the crowd once more, “i need everyone to be paying close attention here, we’ll be demonstrating how to parry, or counterblock for the newcomers.”

as both of you get into position, luke smiles, “don’t forget to go easy on me.”

you laughed, “don’t bet on it, castellan.”

your demonstration ends up feeling like eons, as the two of you continue to dance around each other, parrying and jabbing, and lunging, and striking, and parrying. both of you are panting, your faces flushed as you continue, and just when it seems like you have the upper hand, luke side steps, and easily parries your finishing blow, disarming you in the process.

you laugh as you yield, loving the exhilaration from the fight, but when the two of you face the campers once more, more than half of the crowd is slack-jawed. 

luke, ever the showman, can’t resist a grin, “not only was that your lesson to not underestimate aphrodite cabin, but also to show you the level we’re trying to get you guys to. now, partner up and spread out.”

before you can turn back to address luke again, drew is suddenly at your side. 

“what the fuck was that?” drew hisses, grasping your elbow and leading you away from the training session in full swing, pulling you into your cabin, where silena sits on your bed (still in her armor), clearly awaiting this impromptu confrontation.

“what was what?” you choose to feign innocence, examining your nails before glancing up to see the twin expressions of horror on both silena and drew’s faces. 

“do not act dumb,” drew eyes you coolly, “it’s so beneath you.”

“i’m not acting dumb,” you rolled your eyes at the both of them.

“yes you —”

“you and castellan,” silena interjects, “we want details, now.”

“what details even are there to give?”

silena grabs drew’s arm, pulling her back from apparently nearly pouncing on you. 

drew rolls her eyes at the hand on her arm, and then focuses on you, “you’re literally our next head counselor and you and castellan had never so much looked at each other until this week and now he’s asking you to help demonstrate training techniques, like hello?”

silena snapped her fingers in agreement, “c’mon, you can’t deny that something didn’t happen.”

“nothing did,” you crossed your arms across your chest.

“you know what,” drew says, “if you wanna be like this fine. come find me when you finally decide to — i don’t know — talk to your sisters?” she storms out of the cabin, leaving you alone with silena, who sighs, gives you an apologetic look and goes after drew. 

“well, that was a shit show.”

you whirl around to see your head counselor standing at the entry of the cabin, poised as ever, not a hair out of place as she stood, examining her manicure, looking bored, as usual. 

“couldn’t agree more,” you sigh, sitting on your bed, head in your hands. 

your head counselor takes a seat beside you, “look, i don’t care for whatever petty drama just unfolded, you’ll get over it, daughters of aphrodite and all,” she waves a hand in the air, “— but for now, we have more pressing issues. i’m gonna leave for college soon, and the entire cabin knows you’re my successor.”

you nod as she paused, meeting your gaze, and you can’t help but examine the perfect shape of her eyeliner, scanning her entire picture-perfect face in an attempt to discern her mood.

“i don’t care whatever it is you have going on with castellan, but you need to complete the rite of passage, before you become head counselor.”

“the rite of passage?” you asked, having only heard the phrase in hushed conversations around camp, the knot in your stomach tightening as she continued.

“no child of aphrodite is a true child of aphrodite without having broken their first love’s heart,” is all she offers as an explanation, completely straight-faced. “castellan is perfect for your rite of passage.”

your eyebrows furrow as you consider her words, and with a final nod, and gentle squeeze of your arm, she leaves you with both her legacy and your mother’s legacy in your hands. 

“oh, and before i forget, whoever doesn’t do it always ends up cursed.”

iii. now let me pray to keep you from / the perils that will surely come

luke’s shoulder brushing against yours has turned out to be extremely distracting, and now you can understand why your cabin is more notorious for breaking hearts, rather than falling in love. you can’t seem to focus on anything except how close his hand is to yours, even the golden hue of the fire or the sing-alongs can’t divert your attention. 

the distance between the two of you grows imperceptibly smaller when luke suddenly clears his throat, on the verge of saying something, when a twig snaps behind the two of you, causing you to jump apart and look at the intruder. 

annabeth is standing behind the two of you, looking faintly apologetic, but also terrified. “sorry if i interrupted you guys,” she offers, rubbing her arm.

you share a glance with luke, nodding at him. “you weren’t — luke can always talk to me later,” you say, offering her your trademark smile.

annabeth nodded, “thank you,” as luke gently squeezed your hand before getting up to comfort her.

“don’t thank me, sweetheart.”

you’re at your usual spot when luke rejoins you, running a hand through his curls. “sorry,” he says, “someone left a spider in athena cabin, and no one could kill it.”

you chuckled, “if it wasn’t a total accident, i’d bet money it was travis and connor.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up at the mention of his siblings, “i think you’re spending too much time around them to pick up on their habits.”

“or maybe, i’m spending too much time around you,” you offer, smirking at him, trying to ignore the funny feeling in your chest as he smiles genuinely at you.

“i like to say i’m an acquired taste,” luke shrugs, sneaking a glance at you as you laugh at him. 

“i think i’ve acquired that taste,” you say, without thinking, before realizing how phenomenally stupid that sounded.

luke smiled widely, “y’know, if you weren’t a daughter of aphrodite, i would’ve told you how corny that was —” you shoved him here, “— ow, let me finish, but i actually am really glad to hear that.”

“no wonder,” you smirked, “i can practically hear your heart beating out of your chest.”

“okay, look who’s confident all of a sudden.”

you shut him up with a soft kiss that has him seeing stars. 

iv. i know what’s weighing on your mind / you can be sure i know my part

“again, what the hell is going on with you and castellan?” silena asks one early morning before breakfast, birds chirping as she’s lining her eyes with kajal, glancing at the mirror in her hand as she sits at the top of her bed.

“nothing.”

“i literally saw you guys making out and had to scrub my eyes out with soap,” drew adds, looking extremely disgusted at the thought of relieving that experience, as she paints a fresh coat of nail polish. 

“fine, you’re right,” you concede, curling your eyelashes. 

“don’t you have to do the rite of passage, though?” drew asks, pausing to look up at you.

“i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you say slowly, setting the eyelash curler down on the vanity.

“excuse me?” your head counselor has her hands on her hips, the annoyed expression on her face marring her perfect features, towering over you as she stands in front of your bed.

“i said, i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you enunciate, looking up at her, maintaining eye contact.

the temperature of the cabin seemed to drop ten degrees, and for a minute or so, your stare remained unbroken until she shrugged. “your decision... but don’t say i didn’t warn you,” before dramatically whirling around and heading to the pavilion.

silena gave you a look as drew arched her brow, and you simply shrugged in response.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[johannestevans]

What I love about the laios/kabru dynamic is that like. Laios is more comfortable with and obsessed with animals and monsters, monsters being his Special Interest

And it's like. One thing feeds into the other - he's alienated so he relates to and studies monsters

And this in turn triggers everyone around him to alienate and ostracize him further

MEANWHILE like. Kabru has always been ostracised because of like, his own features, his light eyes contrasted with his skin, and his early exposure to the monsters of the dungeon nearby

For him BECAUSE of like, not his fear of monsters, but because of the political situation around how everyone there was killed, HIS focus and obsession and his own autistic Special Interest has become other people. Their thoughts, their machinations, the ways they lie and obscure

And because of people's obfuscations, as soon as he meets laios his obsession becomes laser-focused on laios himself, because this is a man with almost no machinations. He's been so focused on animals and now monsters his whole life, and SO autistic without learning to mask

Whereas kabru like. ALL he has is a mask. Esp BC of the implication of racism that he's experienced within the text like, even his face has been treated physically as more like a mask than a human face, and then its just lies on masking on obfuscation on repression

Whereas laios feels every single emotion immediately and painfully, and he expresses almost all of them openly - his love, his enthusiasm, his curiosity, his frustration, and to a limited extent, his rage and anger

Here you have laios, treated like a monster so he's become obsessed with monsters, to the extent that he almost fears people more despite craving to be with them, to be seen by them and loved by them, and to an extent being blind to the extent of their cruelties

And here you have Kabru, not treated like a monster, but treated effectively as less IMPORTANT than a monster, because of other people's politics and motivations, to the extent that he has become obsessed with appearing like The Right Person to every single person he meets

It's no wonder that Kabru should become so utterly obsessed with Laios, with studying him - and no surprise either that Laios should enthuse about this undivided and devoted attention that feels equivalent in EFFORT to love and friendship... And isn't that enough?

And at first, no, but I think. So rapidly it would and could become so. Because laios' loyalty is so fierce and devoted, and I think Kabru would be blindsided by how EAGER laios is to please him even though kabru remains, in his own eyes, distant and a bit apart from him

And kabru for like. Studying laios so fervently and focusedly, as intense and off-putting as that may be, he comes to and will come further to understand laios better and more intuitively than anyone else, and no one in the world but falin has ever BOTHERED to do that

And isn't that love? Kabru might not call it that, might be disdainful at the very idea, but if it walks like love and talks like love and feels like love and takes even more effort than love... That's enough, right? That's good, right? Laios is grateful

And the more grateful he is, the more frustrated Kabru will get. Doesn't he respect himself? Doesn't he want more? Doesn't he care enough to DEMAND more?But laios doesn't like to make demands - he likes to be grateful for what he's given. For kabru.

[chrollohearttags]

blerd!ony…💭

been wanting to write about my sweetheart + I needed something self indulgent today so here we are! 🩷

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖

you never really liked talking anime or nerd culture with men!…a strange thought but a true one nonetheless. It was always one exhausting conversation after the next. From being giving random pop quizzes about this series or a lecture about how that one doesn’t measure up to the solidified greats. That was until you met blerd!ony…the gentle, kindhearted cashier in the store you frequented on a daily basis. Blerd!ony, who recognized the t-shirt you were wearing immediately from that very obscure yet classic anime you loved so much, became absolutely ecstatic to talk to you from that day on. The tall, gorgeous male with a smile like the stars, the most beautiful complexion you’ve ever seen and a voice like honey had given you even more of a reason to gush over him. “You gotta give me your top five right now. I always see your keychains and shit. You got good taste..” you were a bit hesitant because this was always the point where things went left but blerd!ony surprised you by praising your choices and even saying he’d check out the ones you’d put him on to. blerd!ony, who had a sleeve full of video game themed tattoos took pride in showing off his pieces when you happened to catch him outside on smoke break one night. Telling you how he played all the time and even streamed a bit in his free time. “I do alright, you should check me out.” blerd!ony, who was always holding up the line just to chat with his favorite customer about the new series he just started. “I’m talking to my girl, y’all can wait—anyways, did you see that new episode? Shit was crazy.” it wasn’t long before he was asking for your socials and hoping to keep the communication going on days even when he couldn’t see you. blerd!ony, who couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the girl who came in his store with sweatpants and a DBZ shirt all dolled up in your cosplays..some a lot more revealing than others. blerd!ony, who’d always wanted to try the hobby but was afraid had some questions..among other things the next time he saw you. “I see how it is, best friend. You be putting that shit on.” you were infatuated with his humor and laid back personality so naturally, when he invited you to an anime cafe in your city, you accepted. blerd!ony, who was the perfect gentleman ensured that you had the best time as you two chopped it up about all things nerdy, making you laugh more than you had in a long time.

blerd!ony, who confided in you that he didn’t have many friends and especially ones into the things he was, told you how happy he was to have met you. “You cool as hell, we gotta do this more often.” a sentiment you agreed with heavily agreed with. Some time had passed and you two spoke nearly everyday. That’s when he revealed that he was not only interested in attending his first con but cosplaying as well, asked you accompany him..and pick a character! “I trust you, ma. Make me look good..” it was a no brainer as the two of you were huge fans of the Mortal Kombat series and decided to dress as Sindel and Shao Kahn. So the two of you spent days going to the fabric store and ordering materials to build props in your spare time..blerd!ony, who was turning heads the entire time when he revealed that Adonis like figure that had been hiding underneath that company polo everyday..you were nervous and even a little embarrassed walking beside someone so fine. but blerd!ony couldn’t keep his eyes off of you or hands..holding your left one, keeping you close and grasping the small of your back as he guided you through the crowds. Even carrying all of your bags and letting you rest your tired feet on his lap. blerd!ony, who had been eyeing you all day couldn’t help but to be entranced when it was time for the after party and the two of you were dancing with liquor in your system. “You full of surprises, huh mama?” “Try me and you might find out just how many.” blerd!ony, who couldn’t wait to get back to you guys’ hotel room, tore that costume open quicker than you could get the door open..leaving a trail of warm kisses down your neck as his fingers delved into your core, pinning you against the wall in the process. “You so fucking sexy..” muttering in your ear as he hiked your leg up and tugged his bottoms down. blerd!ony, who fucked you like a man starved that night had you grasping at things that weren’t even there..taking you from the mirror, to the dresser and eventually the bed, where he gave you deep backshots; grasping that platinum gray lace front on your head as he did so. “You don’t know how long I been wanting this..fuck..” blerd!ony, who had you fucking up the sheets all night, getting stretched by that thick cock with the curve, absolutely depleted you, so much so, you two barely made it around the convention the next day but he was glad that he had met the girl who loved the same things he did and the one of his dreams. <3

[lymtw]

NSFW

Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Description: It doesn't matter that you're in love with Toji's son. He can still take care of you in ways that you can only dream Megumi will ever be able to.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Um… Mr. Fushiguro, have you seen my bra? I swear I threw it over here somewhere.” You lay completely flat on the ground and search under the bed. You find your shirt, your pants, and your underwear, but there’s still no sign of your bra.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he says. “You know, I would help you look for your lost treasure, but, I just get so sluggish after a good fuck. Especially when it’s with your greedy self.” He chuckles quietly to himself, replaying the sound of your voice saying ‘more’ in his head.

“I know, it’s just… I don’t want to leave like this. What if Megumi comes home? I’m indecent.” You grunt as you stand up. You turn around to obscure your private areas, like Toji hadn’t just seen every part of you, and get dressed into what you could find.

“He’ll know he’s been waiting too long to fuck you, and then you kids can start going at it like rabid animals.”

It was a little uncomfortable to talk about being intimate with the man’s son, especially since you had just given yourself to him.

You turn to face the older man, and to your surprise but prominent relief, he has your bra spinning around his finger by one of the straps.

“Oh my god, thank you! Thank you so much, Mr. Fushiguro!” You smile brightly.

“First, it’s Toji. When you call me ‘Mr. Fushiguro’ it makes me feel ancient. Second, what are you thanking me for?” He stops spinning the garment and begins feeling the material.

“You found my bra. I don’t have to leave with my nipples poking through my shirt.”

The last statement drew attention to your chest from him. While he stares, he feels the little red satin bow that sits in the middle of your bra.

“Mm… I think i’ll keep it.”

Your heart dropped, and then the anxious feeling returned.

“It’s an incentive for you to come back to me. You can get it back next time, but only if you trade it for the one you’re wearing.”

“Mr.- Toji.” You inhale, a polite smile on your face. “Can I please have it back. I can’t walk out like this.”

“Sorry, baby. Just know that every time I look at it, i’ll think of how I manhandled you today.” He puts the garment on the pillow next to him, an act that made you lunge toward it to try and get it back.

“I thought I told you you couldn’t get it back today.” The devil shows its face through him. His grin is wicked, his eyes lidded like getting a rise out of you is no big deal.

“Then you can keep it because i’m never coming back here. You’ll never get me alone with you again.”

The man chuckles like you’re crying over spilt milk. “Come on, baby. You’re being dramatic. You should be glad that I want a memento for today.”

Your piercing gaze is the last thing Toji sees before you turn around and leave the room. You quickly create some distance from Toji’s room to kill any suspicion that arises from Megumi, but it was as if you had summoned your best friend the second you got two steps away from Toji's door.

“Hey, Megumi,” you try to say casually, like your heart isn’t in the depths of your stomach. He walks in clutching one of the straps of his backpack.

“Hey, sorry I made you wait so long. I know I said 3:30, but I had some things to finish up after class.”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. I think i’m gonna head out right now. I have to work on the index cards for an upcoming presentation.”

Megumi’s eyes keep looking down at your arms over your chest.

“Are you cold or something? Here, take my jacket.”

“No, i’m fine. Megumi-” you pause abruptly, defeated. He’s already taking it off and handing it to you. You can’t deny him when he’s pushing it towards you.

You hear the door to Toji’s room open and take the jacket quickly, seeing the chance to cover your chest up while Megumi is distracted.

“Kid,” Toji greets his son, simplistically.

“Dad, ugh…” Megumi looks away in embarrassment. His nose scrunches and his eyebrows furrow. “Can you get decently dressed? Please?”

You turn around, catching a glimpse of the outline in Toji’s pants.

“Oh, i’m sure that your friend doesn’t mind that i’m comfortable in my own home.” He fires a wink towards you.

You turn away again, flustered. “N-Not at all. I’m gonna go. See you later, Megs. Thanks for the jacket.” You pick up your backpack from the wall it leaned against and walked as quickly as you could.

“See you soon,” Toji says.

The door is opened quickly and shut even quicker. Your heart races and your stomach has not stopped turning since Megumi got home. Your house is a far enough walk to give you time to think about why things happened the way they did.

“Why do you have to be so creepy?” Megumi grumbles, picking his backpack up from the floor, ready to head to his room.

“You would know all about creepiness, huh? Little weirdo,” Toji bites back.

Megumi huffs, walking off. Sometimes he wonders if the man is older than five.

“Wait, one more thing.”

The younger man turns to face him again. Careless, lidded eyes meeting a smug expression.

“Are you taking care of her?” Toji is the only one who knows the hidden meaning behind that question, leading to a confused reaction from his son.

“She’s just a friend from school. I’m sure she handles herself well enough.”

Toji snickers at the response, quickly coming up with something else that is just as confusing for Megumi.

“Are you checking her oil?”

“She doesn’t drive.”

Toji can’t hold back a chuckle, but throws one more curveball at Megumi.

“Have you attacked the pink fortress yet?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Megumi’s annoyed now, wanting to leave this conversation so badly.

“Jesus Christ, are you fucking her?”

Megumi’s eyebrows furrow like it was a preposterous thing to ask, especially by his father.

“No, i’m not. We’re just friends.”

“You should definitely get on that. She’s waiting for you.”

Now Megumi was interested. Not in the sex, but in what Toji saw when you talked to him. There must have been some spark to insinuate that he was capable of bedding someone as pretty as you.

“What do you mean?”

“‘See you later, Megs.’” Toji mimics your voice. “She wants your dick, and you’re so oblivious.”

“I’m done with you for today.” Megumi doesn’t even know why he expected a different response—something more realistic.

“Later, Megs.” He copies your nickname for Megumi.

—

It's been two weeks and you still feel like shit for screwing your best friend's dad. It doesn't help that he won't stop texting you, constantly reminding you of what happened.

Hey

You look away from your laptop for the first time in an hour or so, only to look at the smaller screen next to you. You roll your eyes, not wanting to indulge in whatever Toji wanted from you.

Three minutes went by and you didn’t respond, so Toji sent another message.

You still mad?

You didn’t intend to read the message, but you did through your peripheral vision. It only made your skin crawl even more.

Answer

Why aren’t you answering? Quit leaving me on read.

You sigh, shutting your laptop. He won’t leave you alone until you answer so you put away your computer and toss yourself on your bed.

What do you want, Fushiguro?

Oh you’re mad mad huh? This is fun.

If you don’t tell me what the hell you want i’m blocking you

No need to be feisty baby. I’m trying to call a truce.

Give it back and i’ll think about it

Give what back?

Toji was grinning sinisterly behind the screen. He knew what you were talking about but it was risky for you to mention it through text. What if Megumi went through his phone and saw this conversation?

You know what i’m talking about. Quit playing dumb.

Fine. Come back tomorrow and you can have it back.

What time? I have to study with Megumi.

Ditch him

No

It’s not up for discussion.

Ditch him or you don’t get your bra back.

You sigh. Megumi is your best friend. Why he chooses to hang out with you? You don’t know. But doing this is gonna make you feel even less deserving of his friendship.

Fine

Good girl. I’m expecting you tomorrow by 4:00 sharp.

Don’t make me wait any longer than I already am.

You roll your eyes and shut your phone off, turning onto your side to get some much needed rest.

—

Morning crept up on you dreadfully. You weren’t looking forward to lying to your best friend, especially when it involved seeing his dad behind his back.

Class went by slow, as if you were being given the time to sum up the courage to tell Megumi that you wouldn’t be studying with him later. In reality, you were overthinking it like hell because when you got around to telling Megumi, he was cool about it. He shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal and said that he would study with Yuji.

Your phone vibrates against your thigh, so you check what it is and almost drop it in the process of trying to hide it back in your pocket.

Do you want me to pick you up?

The message is unanswered for the duration of your lunch break. As you’re walking back to class you quickly respond.

I’ll walk

—

The rest of the day went by too quick. As the end of your last class neared, your heart refused to calm down. It’s not like you were looking forward to seeing this horrendous man, it’s just that his last message left you on edge.

You walked the distance to Megumi’s house once again. You really took your time, not wanting to show any signs of eagerness or urgency to meet up with Toji. You felt your phone continue to buzz in your pocket, so you checked to see who was spamming you.

Hurry up

It’s only 3:40. You’re in no rush to get to him anyway.

Where are you?

I’m so fucking hard, can you walk any faster?

[Video Attachment]

Your ears suddenly fill with huffs and moans, and the slick sound of Toji fisting himself until his dick spews. You shudder, the sounds making your heart race.

Just know i’m not keeping these conversations

I bet you wish you could

Now that Toji is expecting you, he keeps an eye on the door. The second you knock, he jumps up from the couch and rushes to the door. The door opens and you can’t even get a word in before you’re pulled into the house.

The door slams, and your back hits the wall.

“Take your shirt off.” He crashes his lips against yours, not allowing you to do anything. His hands go under your shirt, feeling your warm skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re early. Missed me, didn’t ya?”When you feel him go for the hooks of your bra, you push him lightly, making him stop.

“Slow down, Toji. I don’t want to be fucked against the door.”

He rolls his eyes, “Forgive me, I didn’t know I was screwing royalty.”

You shove his hands away from you, your expression showing utter disappointment.

“Fuck you. I don’t have to do anything for you. Keep the stupid bra.”

He grabs your wrist as you reach for the doorknob.

“No, wait. I was just messing with you, kid. You don’t really want to leave, do you?” He’s thinking with his dick. The rock hard one that’s outlined in his pants, poking at your thigh.

You drop your hand, his hand still around your wrist. “I don’t want to stay if you’re just gonna be a jackass."

“It’ll be good. Come on.” He pulls you along with him to the room.

You enter the room, and it’s as empty as you remember. No photos on the walls or on his dresser. The most prominent thing being his TV mounted on the wall.

“I don’t understand why you keep calling me back here. You talk to other women, and I have no doubt in my mind that you’re messing around with them, too.”

You sit down with Toji at the end of his bed. He chuckles, his hand caressing your face. “You’re my favorite.”

“It’s wrong, Mr. Fushiguro.” You ignore the look on his face after hearing you call him by his last name. “Do you ever think about Megumi? He’s my best friend, not to mention, your son.”

“My son’s got one hell of a best friend. So fuckin’ hot.” He brushes your breast with his hand, his lips going for your neck as his hands continue their wandering.

“I don’t love you, I hope you know that.” You shut your eyes, engulfed in the sensation of his rough hands on your skin. You feel his kisses get harsher against your neck, luring a hiss.

“That’s okay, doll.” He chuckles, his breath hitting the side of your neck. “You don’t have to love me to let me destroy your pussy.” His hand trails down from your chest to your stomach before dipping into your pants. He feels the lace trimmings of your panties and goes beneath the layer, his fingers meeting your folds within seconds. “So wet already. You sure you’re in not in love with me?” He teases, a grin playing on his lips as he glides his middle finger between your slit.

Your chuckle blends with a moan. “It’s always like that when I see Megumi.”

“You’ll be waiting a while, princess. That boy lacks my personality.”

You gasp as his finger makes its way inside you, slowly pumping in and out. “Oh, thank god. He’s perfect.”

Toji’s lips purse in a form of annoyance. “We can stop talking about that little shit, now.”

“You jealous?” You giggle. The laughing stops and your heart pounds when you’re pushed back onto the bed.

“You think you're funny, huh?” You’re completely surrendered to Toji, your arms up and pinned by his hands.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, partially from the lack of touch, partially from the vulnerability of your position. You’re nervous, but you still manage to utter out, “Then why aren’t you laughing?”

He oughta fuck the sassiness out of you. You must really want Megumi to catch you in the act.

“Keep it up, sweets. Really want to hear you talking like this when I don’t let you cum.”

You go silent as your own decision, but the reminder that you’re there voluntarily sits in the back of your mind.

“You’re so pretty when you shut up. Love when you listen.” He grins, his hand cupping your jaw loosely.

He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. It’s not loving at all. Not with the way he bites your lip and tugs on it as he pulls away, leaving saliva and a sting on your lip that makes you wonder if he nicked you.

He exhales through his nose as if contemplating what to do with you now that you’re in his reach. There’s a lazy grin etched on his face, and he’s staring you down, taking in the clueless look on your face.

“Take it all off.”

You crack, a chuckle leaving you. What is so funny? He expects you to display yourself for him like he’s the one doing you a favor. The least he could do is peel the layers of clothes off of you.

“Forgive me, didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty,” you bite, mimicking his phrase from earlier. “The least you could do is take it all off for me.”

“Fucking hell.” He sits you up, grabbing the end of your shirt and pulling it up swiftly over your head.

You blink, a smirk on your lips when you see Toji’s deadpan expression.

“So lucky I love your tits.” For a second he was talking to them, not you. “So warm and soft and perfectly made to hold.” Once again you are pushed down onto the bed. He pulls his shirt off and takes off his sweatpants, tossing them somewhere in the room before laying over you, his eyes targeting your breasts. He pulls the cups of your bra down, allowing your breasts to spill out and display their malleability. “You’re killing me, mama.” His tongue licks a stripe over your right nipple, his fingers coming up to roll it in circles until it’s hard. “How can you keep this from me? Hm?”

Your breathing is shaky as he continues on abusing your boobs. You swear you could keep him there until you want to leave if you really wanted to. You wouldn’t even have to touch him anywhere near his dick and he wouldn’t notice.

“That feel good, pretty girl?” He only asks because he can feel your stomach quivering against his abs.

“I-I need more.” Your fingers run through his black locks, gripping somewhat as he just continues to lap at your stiffened buds. You could cum with just enough friction.

“You want me to fuck you?” He grins, looking down at you like you’re the pathetic one in this situation.

“Fuck,” you moan, loving the friction of his thigh between your legs. “C-Come on,” you mutter to yourself, chasing that shockwave of pleasure before Toji takes it away. He listens to the little pants and huffs you let out as you continue to roll your hips against his thigh, watching the way look around the room because you can’t even look him in the eyes from how flustered you are.

“That’s enough.” His hands easily put an end to what would have been a crushing orgasm. His hands push down on your hips. He thinks the way your thighs tremble is adorable, and your ragged breaths are even cuter. “Trying to get off on my thigh when my dick is right here? That’s the dumbest thing you’ve done so far.” He leans down, inches away from your face. “I know you were about to cum,” his voice goes sultry. He speaks enticingly, causing your pussy to flutter. “But, I can’t have that yet, doll.”

He kisses your chin, going down the column of your neck where he takes the opportunity to litter the area with rose colored marks.

“Why are you covering me in hickeys? It’s like you want Megumi to find out about us.”

“I want you to see them whenever you’re alone," he murmurs into your skin. "I know you’ll touch yourself to the memories of today.” He feels the way your nails sink into his biceps, causing him to look up at your slightly irked expression. “Don’t be ashamed, ma. I have my moments, too.” His hand reaches back down to play with your pussy again, his mouth now at your ear’s level. “You know what I really love to think about?”

“Oh,” you gasp. “W-What?”

“How easy it is to get you wet. Just gotta be close to you like this,” his middle and ring finger rub up and down your slit, slowly driving you crazy.

You whimper, closing your thighs around his hand. “Greedy as ever. Won’t even let me give you what I want without you taking more.” There’s a wicked grin plastered on his face, anyway. There’s a part of him that loves this greediness from you because it means that a part of you wants him, even with all your little fits.

"K-Keep—oh my god." You can't even get through your sentence when he starts kissing your neck while he continues rubbing your cunt.

"Hm?" He mumbles against your skin, slowly moving down towards you chest again.

"G-Go, keep going! I... I," you moan, only to be left panting with dissatisfaction.

"You're not gonna cum from my fingers, if that's what you think is happening." He raises his gaze to look at your teary eyes. "You gonna cry?" It makes him smile like the little sadist he is.

"Of course not," you say, blinking a tear away. "It's not like you didn't edge me three times already."

"You're just an impatient little princess. Wonder how my brat will handle this attitude from you."

It's a constant push and pull between you and Toji. He likes the challenge of making you submit because you like pushing his buttons when he wants to take his time.

You gasp when his thumb runs through your slit again, the rough pad giving your clit a couple rubs before pulling away again. It makes him chuckle, the way you tense at his touch.

"You're not that touch deprived, are you?" He puts a hand on each side of your head, leaning down to watch the flustered response your dumb little brain comes up with.

"You're the one messing with me." You huff, putting your hands on his chest.

"Don't you masturbate?" He asks, grinning at the tension that returns to your body at the question. "Touch yourself until you cum so hard that your brain goes numb?" He whispers in your ear, making you tremble. He teases your breasts, his fingers brushing them until you start squirming.

"I-I do," you stutter out.

"Yeah? What gets you going? Who's on your mind?"

He is a lot of the time. Occasionally, it's Megumi, but because most of the time he's so sweet to you, you find it a little hard to sexually fantasize about him. Whereas his dad looks at you like you're something he can pin down so effortlessly, and now has proof that can do it, too. When you go over to his house to study with Megumi, Toji watches you so intently, and you can feel his gaze like a laser pointer aimed between your brows. You can't admit that to him, though. His ego will burst from how inflated it is. You also want to see the look on his face when he you tell him that Megumi is what you think about.

"Megumi."

He lets out a deep chuckle. You can see the irritation on his face. It's something that makes you grin.

"We'll see if you're still thinking of him in a minute."

The precum on the front of his boxers is now visible, something that makes your heart beat so fast. He sees the way you look at the bulge in his boxers— half amazed, half scared. Now that managed to boost his ego regardless of you trying to throw him off earlier. You almost choke on your spit when he takes his boxers off. Your eyes go wide for a second, and your heart starts threatening to jump out of your chest once he gets back on the bed.

"H-How?" You ask, looking at the cocky expression on his face. He knows exactly what you're wondering about.

"We've done it before, we can do it again." He kisses your knee, his hand trailing up your thigh. He thinks back to the first time he got you in his bed, and how your eyes twinkled at the size of his cock. He laughs quietly at the image before him. Same woman, same reaction.

"It's gonna hurt again." You say, as he gets closer, his cock grazing your thigh.

"Only for a second, and then we both get the best orgasm of our lives." His hand caresses your face, his thumb rubbing soothingly over the apple of your cheek.

"Okay, fine."

"Good girl," he almost purrs. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since the last time you were in his room. You were so tight, almost like you were brand new. The feeling haunted him for those two weeks. Whenever Megumi came home, he looked out for you, hoping that when you did tag along, you searched for him too.

You couldn't deny that him calling you a good girl sparked something in you. It was approval from someone older than you, someone who is very attractive and is in the middle of showing you how attracted they are to you.

"You ready?" He asks, rubbing the outside of your thigh soothingly.

You nod, and Toji gives your thigh a little slap. You laugh at the smirk growing on his face, knowing what he's on about.

"I'm ready," you confirm more clearly.

"Good. I'll go slow like last time."

You nod, nervous again. He runs the tip through your folds, watching your face as he teases you. You look like you're premeditating the pain, your brows slightly pinched as you wait. The tip finally slides in, luring a whine out of you.

"Shh... it's okay. We got it going." It's always hard for Toji to be slow and gentle when you look like that, but he does it so that there are more tears of pleasure than there are of pain. He pushes in a little more, listening to every sound you make. The little whimpers as he stretches you while he works to make you take more of him in, the sniffling as tears start to brim in your eyes.

"Good, so good," he praises. He leans into the crook of your neck, kissing, and leaving souvenirs of your time spent with him. He attempts to distract you from the ache of him pushing deeper by biting your shoulder just hard enough to focus on the new area of pain.

"Ow, f-fuck," you moan, one of your hands tugging at his hair while the other rests on the nape of his neck.

"Just a little more. Almost there," he says, stifling a groan. While you're trying to adjust to his length, he's trying not to bust in less than a minute because of how tight you're clenching around him. "It's okay," he assures, unable to hold back a chuckle when he sees the tears gliding down both your cheeks. He wipes them away with his thumb and leans down to kiss your lips, using this as another distraction from the last push. You gasp and try to pull away from the kiss once he pushes the rest of his cock in, but Toji kept his mouth latched to yours, swallowing every whimper and cry that came with your pain.

He finally releases you, instantly noticing the new color on your tear-stained cheeks. You're blushing over his kiss?

"Didn't know a kiss would rile you up so much." He chuckles, wiping a few more tears off your cheeks.

"You never kiss me like that."

He sees the stars formed in your eyes. It's kinda cute.

"Eh, anything to get you to focus on something other than me stretching you out." He looks away for second to kill the romance trying to seep into the situation.

You put your hands on his chest and slowly move them upwards to his shoulder. "That's all of you, right?"

"Right. Can I start fucking you now?" He wraps your legs around his waist to give him better leverage, and positions his hands at each side of your head.

"Do it. I want it."

You shook something inside of him with that one.

"You want what?" He asks, making sure he's in his right mind and not just hearing what he wants to hear.

"I want your cock, Toji. Wreck me again."

It made chills run up his spine to hear you say that, especially with the way your nails gently dragged up and down his shoulders.

He starts moving his hips, starting at a slow pace even if you didn't ask him to. He pulls out, then slowly pushes in again. Your little moans are adorable every time he pushes into you again. He's turning you into a flustered mess with how intently he watches you. You can hardly hold eye contact with him. His face is inches away from yours, memorizing the way your lip quivers after biting it. Then he hears something that takes him back to the first time you slept with him.

"M-More, Toji. Faster, please."

"Greedy as always, hm?" His tone is raspy as he tries to remain composed. Nonetheless, he complies with your wishes, picking up the pace. The new pace instantly makes your chest rise and fall quicker, panting at the pleasure being fed to you.

"H-Huh? How's that?" He groans. "Don't wanna break ya." He chuckles breathily.

"F-Fuck, so good. Just want you... w-want you to make me cum," you moan, your stomach quivering.

"Yeah? Want me to make you cum?" He coos. The way your eyes rolled back made his cock twitch inside you.

"You're so fucking big, I can feel you rearranging my insides."

Toji realizes you've reached the point where you're so fucked out that you start babbling nonsense. This is his favorite part because when you're not talking, your moans get louder and fill in the silence perfectly. Your moans go straight to his dick, making it just so much better.

"You're so pretty like this, all desperate for my cock."

"Toji," you moan needily.

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You have a twisted way of making his heart race over something that isn't cardio.

"Toji..." you repeat, your voice like slick honey. Your nails dig into his back when he prods at your sensitive spot, your hips rolling up against his thrust.

"Fuck," he groans. "What is it?" His grip tightens into a fist on the sheets.

"I just really like saying your name. Fuck, Toji," his name rolls off your tongue again, the sultry sound reaching his ears so quickly.

"I will cum right now if you say my name like that again."

You giggle, watching a bead of sweat glide down his temple. You wipe it away the way he wiped away your tears, and this flipped a switch inside Toji's head. He laces his fingers between yours and pins them above your shoulders. You feel even more vulnerable beneath him, and he can keep you pinned there for as long as he wants.

"You think that's funny, doll?" He presses his nose to yours. Your pussy clenches at his tone, but you have no choice but to fend for yourself against this god of a man. So, you nod and bat your lashes at him. "Say it again."

"Toji."

His thrusts quicken and you feel like you're inching closer towards this 'best orgasm of your life' he mentioned before.

"Again," he grunts. His eyes are so dark as they keep you locked in his gaze. His lips hover over yours, ghosting them as you follow directions.

"T-Toji..." you whimper, your cheeks getting hot again like before.

"God... say it again," he croaks. He is so close, his mind is clouded as hell.

"O-Oh my god, Toji." You gasp, digging your heels into his lower back. You arch your back, rolling your hips against the bed as you cum so hard that you feel you might make Toji's knuckles bleed with how hard you dig your nails into them. Your toes curl and your mind goes hazy for a second. You're grounded by the feeling of Toji still drilling your sensitive cunt, chasing his own end.

"Oh fuck, just a little longer. Please, sweetheart," he groans, burying his face in your neck. You could hear hear all his moans and grunts so close to your ear as he gets closer to his orgasm. It fueled your attraction to him like gallons of gasoline fuel explosive fires, and it really did feel explosive in the moment. He nibbles on your neck as he nears his orgasm. Your thighs tremble around his hips, your knuckles white from the tightness of your grip.

"O-Oh fuck.. Gotta pull out, doll... Let me pull out," he says, releasing your hands and moving quickly as the cum threatened to burst out of him and into you. The emptiness in your pussy felt strange because you were filled by him for so long. You instantly missed the feeling.

You watched the frenzied state he was in with stars in your eyes, the look on his face as he released thick spurts of cum all over his stomach. The stuttered cursing as he swiped his thumb over the slit of his tip to collect the dollop of cum left. He chuckles, breathlessly, upon turning his lidded gaze to you. "Whatcha thinking about?"

You sit on your knees, and wait for him to catch his breath before saying anything.

"What is it, pretty girl?"

"Can I?" You look at the thick substance on his thumb.

"Really?" He asks, a smirk on his face that practically calls you pathetic. You nod, so he raises his hand up to your face, the pad of his thumb smearing his cum all over your lips before lowering your bottom lip and allowing you to taste it off the digit. You lap at his thumb, wrapping your lips around it once you licked it clean.

"You're so fuckin' nasty," he says as his cock threatens to ask for another round with you. He can feel it twitching as you suck on his thumb. The warmth of your mouth and the way you maneuvered your tongue around him was driving him just a little crazy. He can't help but stare at your glossy, saliva and cum coated lips.

You pull away, immediately licking off the cum on your lips. "What?" You ask, when you notice the way he's looking at you. Looking like he's going to pounce on you again. He developed a similar twinkle in his eyes as you.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to say anything. You gave me a look," you tease.

He's quiet for a second, allowing you to read the expression on his face. "There's just no way you can do that to my kid."

You burst out in laughter, slowly making your way to the edge of the bed. You see all your clothes on the floor and quickly locate your bra.

He moves towards the head of the bed, and leans on the headboard. "You'll kill him if you do."

You keep giggling as you get dressed. "Aw, did you almost die?"

He chuckles at your jab and leans into it. "Saw my life flash before my eyes for a few seconds."

You sigh contently, "Good. Well, gotta go." You start towards the bedroom door.

Toji quickly wraps the sheets around his lower half, and shuffles over to you. "So, when will I see you again?"

Your hand remains on the doorknob. "You're funny." You giggle, shaking your head. You turn the doorknob and open the door.

Toji pushes it shut and keeps his hand pinned on the door. "Tell me you've had better sex." His enticing green eyes hold you down, and suddenly you're fluttering down there again.

"I've had better sex," you challenge.

"Mean it, princess," he argues, but the corner of his lip twitches, a grin forcing itself out.

"I hate you." Toji swears that's the sweetest voice he's ever heard. You unintentionally sugarcoated your sentence.

"That's what makes it so good." His hand releases the door and settles on your shoulder. "I wanna see you again."

"You're obsessed," you laugh.

"I'm gonna text you."

You open the door again, effortlessly as Toji stopped putting pressure on it. You walk out, and Toji only takes a couple steps out to follow you, given the status of his clothes. "Remember, it's gonna be a long wait for Megumi. Boy's got no type of awareness."

"I'll gladly wait."

"Wouldn't mind keeping you until then," he shoots, eyeing your frame from behind.

"You should really find someone closer to your own age, Mr. Fushiguro," you tease, a playful smirk resting on your lips. You wave goodbye not turning to look back at him. Toji returns to his room, dropping the sheets as soon as the door closed.

Megumi won't be home on Wednesday

Come keep me company

[ghouljams]

A little continuation from this

In which you do, in fact, get bred

The store is a mess. All your beautiful flowers are blooming and withering too soon to not be magical, and you can't take your eyes off the gentle drop of their petals, or the giant hand that digs deep grooves into the counter with each clawed finger. König ruts into you like a man possessed, his thick cock filling every inch of your cunt and forcing your body to make room for it. Your hips are pulled up to meet his cock, forcing you to keep your weight on your chest. You can hardly get a breath in. His legs cage you in, keep your thighs pressed tight together, as he slides in and out of you. Each fat inch feels like its splitting you open again for the first time, the angle making you wonder if he can hit your clit from behind. It certainly feels like it. Every time he thrusts into your tight wet heat you feel the little shock of aching pleasure that comes from having him toy with your clit.

You see people pass by the shop windows, seemingly oblivious to the debauchery happening behind the glass. You hide your face against the counter, rocking back against König's cock as embarrassed heat rushes over your skin. The monster behind you pants against your neck, his drool hitting the wood with soft taps. You shiver feeling him run his tongue over his teeth, the slick muscle catching your earlobe before he drags it over your cheek. Without thinking you turn your head, lips parting to let him lick into your mouth. The resulting growl from König as he grips your face and forces his tongue down your throat is raw and masculine. You gag around the intrusion as he fucks into your clenching cunt. He pulls his tongue free to mumble against your lips, rough adoring German. You don't have the mind to translate, the tight heat he hits with his thick cock forces every other thought from your head. Sparks dance up your spine, twist in your stomach and tighten your diaphragm. You can't get a breath, can't get enough air to make a sound, can only hold your mouth open in anticipation for the next hard thrust.

König shakes your head to try and gather your attention, his eyes dark and libidonous when you meet then. "Cockdrunk whore," he rumbles, "you think I'd let anyone else see you like this?" Your eyes roll, back arching painfully for him, your legs are starting to shake with the effort of keeping yourself standing. König shakes you again. "Answer me."

"No," you barely feel the breath of the word ghost your lips, you wet your lips and let your eyes slip closed when König leans in to kiss you. It's a sweetness you never expect, but never grow tired of.

"No," he agrees, "Nur für meine Augen." He kisses you again, his lips sliding against yours with a hunger that makes your head spin. You moan against his mouth, trying to hold off the trembling that seaps into your muscles with each jab of his cock against your cervix. You clench around him, feeling the drag of his veins against your walls, the catch of his head against your entrance, the drool of slick he fucks out of you, wetness staining the backs of your thighs. The air is filled with the sounds of your broken moans and the wet slap of his hips against your ass.

"You're all mine," König assures you, coos at you in a voice too rough around the edges for English, "Don't want anyone else to see the way you beg when I fill you with my come." You whine out a soft, pleading, yes, and hear the click of König's spines feel the pinpricks of blood being drawn as his claws dig into your hip. The discordant clicking of claws and teeth drone in your ear, the low growls of hunting animals, the hang of König's hair obscurs everything but his eyes from your view. Still, you know hes smiling. "Beg me, Liebling."

"Please," you murmur, "please König." He hums, not good enough. You press back against his cock, try to avoid his eye, a difficult thing to accomplish when he holds your face so tightly. "Breed me," you beg him, holding his gaze, your voice feels soft and foreign, "fucking come in me, inside, please."

You're treated to the gleam of his razor sharp teeth, his hand releasing its grip on your face to settle heavy between your shoulders. His breath is deep and purposeful, growled out with a rumbling that warms you to your core. Good, you did good, he's happy. It's cruel of him to make you beg, he knows what you want, knows that once you got a taste of him you'd never be able to live without it. Still he makes you beg, and worse you do it.

Because he fucks you like an animal when you do. Fucks you with no thought to your safety or pleasure, fucks you like its his last chance to. His hips piston into you, hitting you just right. Everything pulls tight and releases with a pop of stars behind your eyes and liquid between your legs. If your ears weren't ringing you're sure you'd hear the drip of your come on the floor. König groans, bullying his cock into your tight overstimulated hole, chasing his own high as you're forced through yours a second time. His come floods you as he presses his hips hard against yours, making sure his thick spend is as deep in you as possible. His thrusts slow, shallow, letting the flutter of your orgasm milk him.

When he does pull put his fingers are quick to push into your abused cunt, making sure you don't lose a drop of his come. You do your best to keep your hips up, you asked for it, the least you can do is not waste it. After a moment of inspection König's fingers disappear from you, hands off, as he makes his way to stand in front of the counter.

"Go on liebling," König breathes, his fist grips the base of his cock tight, the length of it shiny with your come, "Thank it for breeding you."

You lean forward, push yourself further forward against the counter and press you lips to the head of König's cock. You feel your mouth open, tongue lolling out to lick along his length, your eyes lidded and your cunt clenching. You spit when you reach the head, feel the dribble of drool over your lip and down your chin, coating you and the thick cock. "Thank you," you tell it, mumbling your praise as you kiss along his shaft. König's fingers grip your hair and pull you back, you mouth opens reflexively and he smacks his dick against your tongue.

"Braves Madchen," he hums, "now be nice and clean me up."

[bogleech]

I never saw Don Bluth's Bartok the Magnificent (the only video sequel to any of his movies that he actually worked on) until days ago and all my life I thought this thing on the video cover was just the worst design I'd ever seen for a snake. I had no idea "Piloff" was actually a weird unnatural thingamajig made by Baba Yaga as a familiar, and maybe she's just one of Don Bluth's many bewildering (affectionate) original ideas, but there is a precedent in Icelandic folklore for a stretchy wormlike thing created by witches.

As an aside this movie came out when I was just discovering the internet animation fandom and I kept running into people who had a raging fetish for this character. Well I hope 23 years later they can accept their wife for what I'm now adamant she actually is, a Tilberi:

Possibility it's more than coincidence: a Tilberi is created by a witch to be sent out into the countryside and steal milk from farms, used by the witch in various spells or just to make evil butter (not a joke but the single most commonly cited purpose. The butter is harmless but you can draw a sign on it that will reveal its wicked origin) so in this movie Bartok has to go fetch Piloff because she got lost and as soon as she comes home Baba Yaga wrings her out to get some kind of fluid for her potion. Tilberi are Icelandic and Baba Yaga is Slavic but Poles are the largest ethnic minority in Iceland so Baba Yaga was pretty well known there even before she really took off as a globally famous concept and so it's a given anyone in Iceland who knew about Tilberi (and they aren't terribly obscure; these photos are from the Icelandic Museum of Witchcraft!) would have assumed Baba Yaga has at least one.

[pro-mammonologist]

Things that are canon because I said so:

- Lucifer has only ever broken down a total of three times and all three times were in the presence of Mammon and no one else

- Satan goes out of his way to find human folktales about demons and figuring out if they’re true or not

- Mammon thinks science is really cool but he’s a little stupid so it cancels out

- Beel sends recipes to Mc when they’re in the human world so they can make them and freeze them and then send them to him but Mc had to explain it doesn’t work that way and it would rot or just be gross

- asmo is the brothers matchmakers he is the reason for 90% of their relationships

- asmo has tried to have sex with Barbatos repeatedly but has never ever ever succeeded

- Diavolo definitely has gone to Devildom orgies and just watched for fun

- diavolo has seen Asmo at way too many

- demons can’t get stds but angels can

- demons are fertile on their periods opposed to humans

- Satan reads about human history and has a great understanding of human stuff but somehow Levi ends up knowing more because of anime

- Mammon gets angel, demon, and human history mixed up “Whaddya mean demons didn’t have an Adolf Hitler??? He killed lots of people right???”

- Belphie steals pillows from Lucifer’s room all the time

- Mammon has tried every single psychedelic in creation, remembers practically none of them

- Lucifer has Asmo color his grays for him, his pride won’t let him go to a salon

- Lucifer also plucks grays he has in his eyebrows or uses makeup

- Levi knows obscure human animes but doesn’t know the popular ones???? But Mammon has watched the popular ones… (Levi refused to watch the popular ones because Mammon watched them first)

- Barbatos likes to take ice baths to sooth himself

- Diavolo thinks it’s terrifying Barbatos likes ice baths

- Simeon shares Lucifer stories in exchange for good grades with Diavolo (no one knows but dia)

- Solomon secretly stalked Lucifer when he first decided he wanted to make a pact, because of that, he knows Lucifer’s habits better than Lucifer

- Lucifer has secretly been paranoid he’s been watched all this time but he has thought it was his father or Michael, not Solomon

- Michael frequently writes letters to the brothers but never sends them and Simeon is this close to stealing them and bringing them to the brothers

- Lucifer would let the brothers get a pet if Mc asked but actually because he secretly wants one

- Mammon pretends like he’s the big speed racer fan and would totally do it himself but his older brother instincts kick in when he goes past the speed limit by .1737382 miles

- Lucifer is convinced Mammon can’t drive but Mammon is convinced Lucifer can’t drive and both are backseat drivers

- Mammon used to dine and dash until he worked in a restaurant… yeah he doesn’t do that at all anymore

- finally, all of the brothers have this secret part of the hol that they think no one else knows about but they actually all use the same space just ALWAYS at different times

[campbell-rose]

Alastor Redesign

Omg there’s like over 70 people following me – guys I'm o///O flattered and flabbergasted. 

Anyway, onto today’s main event, Alastor. I hate Alastor’s og design, I hate his twig waist and his shoulder pads and the way you can’t see his antlers next to his ears, and his bow tie ugh viv please and his HAIR what even is that??? Not even mentioning that nothing about his design is really like a focal point. There’s no one thing that’s particularly interesting. At least before this he had that cathedral window looking cross on his undershirt that I found interesting. Nothing about his says he’s from the 1930’s other than dialogue. 

I wanted him to be in greyscale because that’s the coolest aesthetic, and colored photos weren’t a thing until way after the 30s. Recently I saw jjk, and Jogo’s teeth threw me because at some points I thought he was just straight up toothless. But then when I started this design, that colored tooth look spoke to me. Initially his teeth were yellow to look gross like he never brushes them, but then I was like ‘ayo wait, he’s literally a cannibal’, thus his vibrant red teeth to really pop against his greyscale. Initially his undershirt was white, but I feel like that was too much contrast and white is typically innocence, so by instead having a deep red it shows he’s just straight up bloodthirsty underneath his formal appearance. I also considered it being black, but then he looked like a pastor, and I wasn’t too much of a fan of it. The idea of the red on his design is that it leads your eye down his design to take it all in, with his face being the focus. I gave him glasses because I like the way it obscures his eyes a bit and I imagine they do the anime thing where they glow and hide his eyes. I liked Viv’s idea of sinners having marks where they died, and I slicked his hair back to show it off very prominently. His antlers are larger, I gave him cute lil deer ears. Also, under his suit he is lowkey buff. I feel like a serial killer should at least look physically capable of taking someone down not whatever the fuck viv’s nasty twig men can do. Like, in that comic with the cute sheep girl, when Alastor goes demon mode his body looks so snappable I just wanna like grab his waist in my hands and break it like a twig. I also tried to keep his design simple as if this were for animation, I know pinstripes are complicated and so are antlers but other than that I tried to keep his design basic. 

If I were to rewrite him based solely on the pilot, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Alastor is a decent character, his voice actor gives him life, the radio filter is cool, and nothing he did made me want to break my screen (ANGELDUST). The only thing I'd change would be his position in hell. Like, viv’s hell is so wack and I hate it, she’s got the princes, then the goetia and the overlords and then sinners and blah blah, it’s a lot to keep track of, not even mentioning the rings and circles thing. I think Alastor should have had dealings with hell as a human, maybe he routinely did sacrifices or something, and he made a deal with the archdemon Alastor and when he died like... uuhhhhhhh. Maybe through connections he’s gained more power? Idk, I just know I hate the idea of his dying and then having like the bestest most powerful demon powers despite not being hellborn. It’s got this mary sue stench. I’ll figure it out, maybe, who knows. 

I’m not gonna start rewriting since there’s nothing to go off of and alter yet, so that’s gonna have to wait until the show actually drops before anything concrete happens lol. 

Also the sheep girl is a sinner that reoccurs in the show now so sorry I don’t make the rules, you can’t give me a cute sheep girl and try to take her away, I’m gonna redesign her and shove her into the plot as someone looking for redemption at the hotel

[muzanswaifu]

Bittersweet

Demon! Sanemi x Fem! Reader

18+

Request: "I have been waiting to read something like this for so long. Demon Sanemi craving blood because fem!reader is on her period, so yk he eats her out without mercy❤️"

Demon Sanemi is so mean I love hiiiim :3 Need me a man who would eat me out on my period 😒 Jk jk that shit gotta taste nastyyyyyyy

NSFW Warnings: Yandere, Non-con, Smut, Sexism, Kidnapping, Forced Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Menstruation, Blood Kink, Forced Orgasm, Kinda Gross ngl

-

-

-

The rhythmic pitter-patter of feet echoes through the green, a slow churn of water thrumming with the flow of the current. Even the thick noise of crickets and wind couldn't drown out the hint of life found deep in the brush, the figurative curl of a finger beaconing him to draw closer, to close the union of rarity.

He took a breath. A deep one. Taking in the pungent scent of weak males. And a female.

Shinazugawa could nearly taste the delectable meat already, the flavor settling on his tongue and seducing his taste buds. Drool nearly threatened his mouth, but he withheld himself. He wasn't an animal. Not technically, anyway.

But he might as well be. Only an animal could hunt as he did, track as he did, kill as he did. But a beast was not nearly as precise as he was, not leaving even a scrap of evidence in his wake. Only the crime scene would be found, a gorey scene of bone and torn flesh, remnants of his well-earned meal. But only the males would wither...

As for the female -

Oh gods, did just the thought of it make him salivate, his very bones trembling with need. Her scent alone made him feel weak with hunger, his tongue curling with horrid intent. The fragrance was familiar to him, a vague memory of his past existence of rare blood, the same unique trait only serving as a grand pillar toward his success as a demon. Her blood ran the same, her veins full of the powerful elixir that his kind would quite literally kill each other for. But he had no need for such rivalry.

The path the cattle strode upon was a hidden one, veiled by a plentiful layer of wisteria about fifty feet aways on either side of the trail. The effort wasn’t so useless, he supposed. Perhaps it served useful against weaker demons of no rank, the fiends not yet powerful enough to develop some resistance to it. But his godly build was stronger, the frail flower only giving his skin a lingering sting. His hunger far outweighed it.

He had long stalked his prize. The demon had patience in these rare situations, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to make his efforts all the more worth it. It had been several moons ago that he’d first stumbled upon her delivery across these lands, his keen eye catching the lingering dust kicked up by the horses that pulled her carriage. Even back then, the chance had been perfect. The men were unknowing, all walls of defense down as the car came to a halt, surely one of exhaustion. Shinazugawa drew closer, only a breath away from finally feasting when his vision was obscured by a heavenly vision.

A small thing she was, her skirts nearly catching under her feet as she gracefully stepped down from her traveling abode. The moonlight shimmered brilliantly off her glazed skin as she bent her delicate neck back, stretching out the aching tightness trapped there. Her (h/c) hair was frizzy across the outline, the static from the summer heat pulling at the threads and giving them a coiled curl. His maw fell open with his amazement.

He’d come across several humans of marechi blood in his infinite lifetime, and most, if not all, were nothing much to look at, quite ugly in his opinion. They all bore the same simplicity and naïveté, their only unique trait being their delectable composition that gave them their sole purpose of feasting. But she was so drastically different.

Everything about this female sang rarity, her natural features reminiscent of that of ancient goddesses that mortal men could only wish to touch. But here she was. Within an arm’s reach, he could have her, do with her what he wished. He was nearly disgusted with himself, being far more captivated with his food than he should’ve been. Sparing her of death would’ve been such a waste of opportunity, one that even those lower than him wouldn’t have been so idiotic as to squander. Yet, his own self-doubt swallowed him as he drew back into the dark wood, letting her little toy soldiers bring her back to the safety of the nearing daylight.

He’d gorged himself after that, consuming soul after soul at a nearby village in an attempt to quench his own frustration and need. There weren’t many options to consider. He couldn’t spare the thing entirely, he wasn’t that fucking stupid, but he didn’t very much want her dead either. Turning her definitely wasn’t an option, women just didn’t have as much potential as demons, and he had his own personal beliefs that women shouldn’t dirty their hands. But dear gods, her scent, her smell alone probably called upon hundreds of demons to her location daily, perhaps it would’ve been a mercy to take the female’s life.

Fuck.

He hated himself for how indecisive he was. Not once in his entire demonhood had he been at such a crossroad of hesitance. There had to be another option that held the best of both worlds, yes? Shinazugawa just hadn’t come across it yet.

But fate gave him a hint as he snatched up the severed half of a female he’d killed, her guts spilling into his lap as he gnawed on her fat ankle. His daggered eyes trailed up her cold thigh, lining the dark trail of blood that seeped from under her skirt. A small confusion fell over him as he mulled over the strange placement. His blade’s cut through her navel had been clean, her blood pooling into the muddy grass and not at all staining much of her clothing. Yet the chain of red kept its existence, running into the conjunction of her thighs. Cursing his own curiosity, Sanemi swept the pesky material aside, only to be met with the brilliance of a cruel idea.

It hadn’t been hard at all to follow along the woman’s usual route of travel again, her men taking the same path,  ignorant of its dangerous discovery. Yet the timing was unfortunately off, her smell still sickeningly sweet and clean rather than bitter and dirty. He’d have to wait for next time. And the next. And the next. He’d nearly given up hope entirely until the fated night his lungs were filled with the metallic scent that had his belly tensing with primal famine. Just the mere aroma of ichor had drool gathering in his jowls, his fists clenching with need. It only grew thicker as her quaint carriage drew near, the clicking wheels singing a dreadful tune with each snap against the road. Sanemi could already taste the woman on his tongue, her savory flesh plump and tender between his teeth… god, he was going to lose it.

He nearly did as she stepped from her carriage in the same manner as their first meeting, her hair knit in tight braids across her crown, framing her delicate features. She was dressed more eloquently this time, Her gown long and loose yet hugging her figure with a gentle tightness. He mused to himself that perhaps she was on her way to some formal event to maintain appearances, maybe even earn herself a husband. Yet the notion of such a possibility irked him all the same. He’d never felt a hunger like this before, if one could even call it that. This felt so much more significant, crucial even, as if his very life depended on it. And maybe it did, since he would most definitely not let himself live if he couldn’t get even a single taste of her blood. Her body was his to take.

It took him no time at all to do away with the weaklings, the men’s bodies falling one after the other into the gravel, making a sad splash as their vitals funneled out. The man ogling at her backside was the first to go, his head severed the instant his eyeline met the wide curve of her dress, dropping to the ground with a thud and rolling to a leisure stop to her heel. When the woman finally turned from her distraction of the ominous wood, she was met with pure, bloody isolation.

Her horrified scream echoed loud, her hands clawing at her own face as she looked upon the gory scene of blood and guts that surrounded her. Shinazugawa was almost impressed at her reaction speed as she quickly turned foot and bolted, running through the thick bush despite her frailty. He couldn’t help but snicker, so enamored by her utter foolishness of trying to escape. If the men protecting her couldn’t even survive, what made her think she was the exception?

“God, you’re fucking stupid, ha!” he cackled, leaping about the tree-line, nipping at her backside but giving her just the right amount of space to let her hope she could get away.

She was not at all athletic, her stamina quickly dwindling as her frail figure fought with itself to continue on. Her chest burned, her feet hurt, her will to keep moving dwindling by the second and feeding into the persuasive idea of giving up. Yet the monster snatched her before she could choose, slamming her into the soft, melted ground and caking her elegance in earth. His hand wrapped around her pretty neck firmly, another snaking down her bodice and tearing open the gold buttons of her dress. His tongue swept across his lip as he unwrapped her, taking his sweet time to unveil every inch of her pristine flesh to his ravenous eye, her little fists pounding at his chest as she sobbed and screamed for help.

“Shut it,” Sanemi growled lowly, surprised to see her actually listen, her lip wobbling and eyes flooding as she silenced herself. He could still hear her pathetic whimpers as he stripped her, her small frame shaking as he brushed down her stomach, removing the lacy undergarments that hid her delicate body from his sight. He could see her plush intimacy coming into view from beneath her coverings, her curved hips thickening her figure, her thighs trembling as they tried desperately to hide themselves. But there was nothing that could be done about that now as she lied there, helpless, powerless, weak.

He opened his mouth wide, exposing sharp canines and letting his hot breath wash over her firm abdomen as her tears began anew and wept down her flushed cheeks. The demon was pleased, relishing in her surrender and submission as he gently ran his tongue down her navel, sampling his meal and savoring the girl's pitiful sobs. He loved it when humans cried, when they begged and pleaded for their lives like the weaklings they were, it made things so much more exciting.

His tongue flicked out over her pelvis, gliding over the pudge over her sex as he breathed in the scent of her musk, tainted with ovulation. Sanemi could already feel the saliva gathering in a jowls as he began to peel down her underwear, a cotton cloth clinging to the crotch of it. Her breath stuttered.

"N-no, no, please! Please... please!" she cried out, shaking hard and grasping at her own face, nearly clawing her eyes out with panic. But she knew better than to try to fight him off again, clearly more afraid of what he would do then than what he was currently doing. He couldn't help but grin against her supple flesh, his edged teeth nicking her thigh. She jerked at the sudden pain and the warm sensation of blood trickling down her leg, soaking into the dirt.

"P-Please, p-p-please don't... h-hurt me," her words shook with her exterior, her sniffling likely a strong persuasion to those who had a heart. He obviously didn't but was still bothered by her pestering fear of being eaten. "If I was going to eat you, don't you think I would have done it already?" he groaned sarcastically.. The human slowly removed her fingers to peak down at him, her eyes red and welled with tears, lip trembling. He laughed.

"I mean come on, you think I'd let you bitch and moan this long just to kill you later? If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Quit fucking crying," he hissed.

She sniffled again. "B-but -"

"Zip it."

Her mouth snapped shut, quickly obeying before her brain could even comprehend him.

Sanemi growled. "Talk again and you get to join those fuckers back there." He nodded his head back to the direction of her abandoned carriage and dead guards. His claws dug into her thighs, pulling them to spread wider to encompass his presence. "The sooner you let me take what I want, the sooner I let you go. But I don't deal with brats. You either listen or you don't, 's up to you bitch."

He wasn't sure how he expected her to react, but it definitely wasn't for her to spread herself wider, without any instruction. It was almost touching how quickly she gave in, not even needing a moment to think it over before she opened herself up for him to do as he pleased. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she were eager for it.

His head fell down to her core again, his fangs pricking the surface of her skin yet again, drawing forth a shallow line of blood as he slid them down her inner thighs, his eyes locked on her frightened yet curious gaze. She shivered at the sharpness of his touch, her legs trembling as he moved further south, trying to appease his hungered excitement. He resumed pulling down her panties, reveling in the aroma of moon blood that filled his senses as he took away all obstruction. It was beautiful. The smell of blood. The sight of red dripping from her puffy lips. He could only imagine the taste, so eager in his imagination of its excellence. He'd never tasted pure ovulation blood before, never even thought of it actually. It would be stupid to use just his tongue when he could devour with his teeth in an instant and move on to the next meal. But this was a different situation entirely. This woman could satiate him for years, decades even, with marechi blood. It didn't hurt that she was a hot piece of ass either. If he didn't get himself together soon, he might end up fucking his food as well.

The woman's eyes lingered on his leisure movements, the drawl of his dangerous eyes along her sex as he studied the meal. Embarrassment quickly rose in her chest as she realized his intentions, praying that he’d move on with whatever he was trying to do so her dignity could recover. Although, she supposed letting him taste her menstrual blood was better than getting eaten alive... but hardly.

The demon felt her pulse quicken in his grasp, her breathing growing faster and her patience dwindling as she began to quiver again. He didn't blame her though, not in the slightest. But he had every right to  such a rare female, he deserved everything. And if the needs of others were sacrificed, so be it. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist her for too long. He was ravenous.

And he was horny.

He smiled as his head dipped down, his tongue flicking out to smooth against her swollen clitoris, barely brushing the top as he inhaled the fragrance of her blood. Her legs trembled, her muscles tensing as her hips buckled in response, shocked with the sudden feeling of sensitivity. She had to bite her lip to silence her noise of surprise. He chuckled as he teased her, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, teasing her wet folds and leaving behind a thin trail of saliva. He didn't really care for her pleasure at the moment, but he was curious of her response to it. Dinner and a show. That was fine by him.

She bit her lip harder, her thighs flexing to keep from touching him. Sanemi was excited at her reaction, watching her face contort with each and every careless stroke of his tongue, her hips subconsciously rising to feed herself into his awaiting mouth. A few times, she almost grabbed for him, but her arms were still pinned to her side by her own strong will to survive. He liked that, enjoyed her struggle as he continued to lick her up and down, her clit becoming more sensitive with each and every pass. Her blood was intoxicating, his head already growing dizzy as he drank her from the source. He thought it would be difficult to keep himself from biting down but the thought never even grazed his mind as he continued giving sloppy licks and sucks to her weeping heat. She was so tasty, so sweet, so ripe. It seemed like she would never stop bleeding as his tongue was eternally blessed with a fresh coat of red. He wondered for a moment if it was possible to drain her of it all in one night.

He growled, his head lowering down to her opening and his tongue falling out again as she whimpered in anticipation, eyes closed tight. She felt like she was losing her mind with every pass of his ravenous tongue. Her head was so foggy and light, her pussy so warm, she couldn't stop herself from letting out small noises of pleasure as he kept feasting upon her. It took every ounce of her being not to wrap her legs around his head and trap him into her center, forcing him to cease his cruel teasings. What little was left of her fear only heightened the experience, giving her a blissful taste of sin that she'd never indulged before, the sense of danger giving her such a rush.

Her ichor only grew sweeter on his tongue by the second, her slick diluting her blood in heavier batches that gave him more a taste of lust than power. He focused on her hole then, realizing that nipping at her clit certainly wasn't helping the situation. Yet, her pleasure rose none-the-less. His tongue worked hard, dashing inside of her, licking up every drop of liquor, drinking it down as if it were a fine wine. It was nearly too good to be true, this level of strength he felt. He looked down at the girl, his eyes burning into her as he watched her squirm and grip the earth. She was so delicious.

But he needed more.

His tongue pumped into her again and again, dipping as far as it could reach before retreating to her entrance to lick up anything that had escaped him. She shuddered, her hips subtly grinding on his face to chase her nearing end. It continued building in her belly, sending bolts of electricity up her spine and warming her insides. She couldn't even feel the pain of her cramps anymore.

Sanemi sipped at her wetness more vigorously, his tongue lapping at her like a dog, desperate for more of his meal. He slowed only for a moment as the woman gave a small cry, her hips and thighs quaking harshly and tensing in his palms. He wasn't even angry when her juices sprayed him, drenching his lower face and dripping down his lips. If anything he was amused, only a human could come from such little care. Yet, he stopped, her cunt hardly even bleeding anymore being so wet with arousal and relief. What was the point of pleasing her when he gained nothing in return.

He rose from his position on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes raked down her sloppy appearance, certainly not that of a noblewoman. Her backside was caked with mud, her hair messy and matted, her face red and mouth leaking with drool. She nearly looked peaceful as she let out gentle pants, still softly shaking from such a strong orgasm. He rolled his eyes.

"Get up," he commanded, uncaring of her condition. "I don't have all fucking night."

The woman only rose when his growls became violent, her movements awkward and her head still in the clouds. She still attempted to cover herself, tucking an arm over her breasts and cupping her sex with another.

"I'm only going to explain this once so I suggest you pay attention-" he began, her eyes quickly lighting up with fright, "You are going to come back to this path every month during your menses. You will come alone. No guards. No friends. No nobody. Understand?"

She squirmed nervously in her footing, her fear beginning to crest again. "B-but I-I won’t be a-allowed to travel for n-no r-r-reason..." she stuttered.

"Not my problem."

"A-and how would I come back without anyone to take-"

"Not. My. Problem." he hissed meanly, making her cower away.

He stepped forward to her, towering over her little form. "I'm not here to negotiate. I'm just telling you what you're going to do. I don't give a fuck how you're gonna do it, but if you know what's good for you, you'll obey. You want anyone else dead because of you?" he sneered.

Her lip quivered and tears glazed in her eyes. "N-no."

Sanemi chuckled, looking down at her and pressing a strong hand over her lower belly and brushing away her small hands, dangerously close to her privates that were still glazed with his saliva.

"This is mine," he stated, passing two fingers between her puffy cunt lips, "Give it to anyone else and I'll kill them and make you watch. I'll make it slow too. You want that?" She violently shook her head, nearly on the cusp of pissing herself from the terror of such a suggestion.

He hummed with his approval of her response, giving her another once over with his eyes and a quick squeeze of her breast before backing away into the night, undisturbed with how on earth she was going to get back home. It would've been any second that he could lose control of himself and pounce, a desperate need growing in pants to satiate himself. He'd have to establish that as another rule - no fucking when she was edible. Maybe he'd pay her another visit later when her period was over, at her estate perhaps, just to take away her innocence and test out how useful she was to him. He could only imagine how pathetic she would look speared on his cock with nowhere else to go, but that would be for another night, he couldn't forget her main purpose.

And he couldn't wait to get a taste of that again.

-

@acehyacinth

@chaik1

@tomiokas-lunchbox

@walkingtravesty97

@keimuras

@akazaapologist

@prostheticmind

@doumakiss

@uchihabucketlist

@tired-writer04

@magoliaomega

@bishishbored

@animeblog123

@sparklyphantom

@vividelreyy

@ledafox

@that-bih

-

-

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 3: The Ones Who Died Without A Name]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Holiday” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

The Tahoe runs out of gas just west of Ashland, Ohio, coasting to a stop along the shoulder of State Route 96, sapphire skies and cotton ball cumulus clouds, emerald fields of Swiss chard and beets slowly being nibbled bare by deer and rabbits, the inheritors of an abandoned earth.

“Well, that’s it,” Baela says, offhand, blasé, as if it’s not a disaster. You’ve sorted this out, it didn’t take long: there are people who aren’t allowed to panic. If they do, it’ll be like a dam crumbling, and the flood will burst through to drown everything, like when Noah’s wrathful God decided it was time for the world to start over. Baela can’t panic. Aemond can’t panic. And maybe you can’t either. Rio gives you a skeptical look—Are we really about to walk to Oregon?—and you slap his thigh encouragingly as you climb over him and out of the Tahoe.

“Everyone gets a gun,” Aemond says as he starts distributing them: Rugers for Rhaena, Baela, and Helaena (although she winces as she obediently takes the revolver, immediately tucking it away into her burlap messenger bag), .22s for Daeron and Aegon, Remington 12 gauges for Jace and Rio, who gives you his M9. You’re better with it anyway. Aemond’s Glock 20 is in a handmade leather holster he took from the cellar of the house back in Distant, Pennsylvania. Luke, still a potential zombie, will not be armed; but Aemond slings the strap of a .22 over his own shoulder for in case Luke recovers.

“Safeties on, right kids?” Rio goes down the line checking everyone’s gun. “Remember what we practiced, use your sights, don’t go pointing the barrel at anyone unless you’re okay with blowing a hole in them. The noise is risky, but getting bit is worse, so use your best judgment.”

“I don’t have any of that,” Aegon says, grinning.

Rio grabs Aegon’s sunburned face roughly and smacks a kiss onto his cheek. “I know, Honey Bun. Don’t you worry. Stick close and I’ll do your thinking for you.”

You spy it up the road a ways on the right, half-obscured by tree limbs: a white and orange sign, a logo shaped like a diamond. “Oh my God. It’s a Stewart’s.”

“A what?” Aemond asks, squinting at the sign. It’s late afternoon, and soon the sun will be sinking into the west like a drowning man through deep water, and like all prey animals you are restless without the promise of shelter.

“A Stewart’s Root Beer. They used to sell hot dogs and barbeque and all these neat soda flavors like key lime and black cherry. We had one where I grew up. That was the fancy place. You knew it was a good day if you ended up at Stewart’s for dinner.”

Aemond considers you, that subtle ceaseless curiosity. “We can stay the night there.”

“I thought we didn’t want to waste any daylight, Aemond,” Jace jabs as he helps Luke—miserable but presently human—out of the Tahoe. “That’s what you said when I wanted to check out that Barnes & Noble, Aemond.”

“What the hell do you need books for?” Aegon says. He’s grabbing clear CD cases out of the center console of the Tahoe. He pounds on the eject button and then punches the CD player when he realizes he won’t be getting that particular disk back. “Oh, you bitch! I had Shakira on there!”

“I would like to preserve my ability to read at higher than a fifth-grade level. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was going to work for Sullivan & Cromwell, you know.”

“And now you’re a jobless loser just like me. Isn’t life funny?”

“You can’t be serious,” Baela says to Aegon, his arms full of CD cases. “You’re going to carry all those to California? You don’t even have a way to listen to them.”

“I’m not leaving my mixtapes.” Aegon shoves them into a U.S. Army backpack he found at Fort Indiantown Gap and then hoists it onto his back with a grunt.

Aemond tells Jace: “We only have a few hours until the sun starts going down. We don’t know what’s up ahead. We should take advantage of a safe place to sleep if it’s available. Getting caught out in the open after dark is the worst case scenario.”

“Whatever, Aemond. It’s your call. Everything is your fucking call.” Then Jace plods out into a field of rabbit-ravaged Swiss chard to relieve himself semi-privately, his back to the Tahoe.

“Hey, Chips Ahoy,” Aegon says, taking the folded-up map out of the pocket of his shorts, mint green plaid. “Want to tell me if there are any nuclear power plants near our route so we can steer clear of them and not get irradiated?”

“Uh, well, I don’t exactly have them all memorized…” You examine the map, hoping the black-ink cities will jog your memory, trivia you catalogued years ago, snippets you’ve heard from your fellow seamen. “Perry’s in Cleveland. We won’t be anywhere near that one. Fermi is up by Detroit.” You hesitate as your fingertips skate past Chicago. “Braidwood and LaSalle are someplace between Chicago and Peoria, but I’m not sure where. And then there are a few others around the border of Illinois and Iowa. One’s called Dresden, I think. West of that, I don’t know. Rio?”

“Cooper’s in Nebraska, dead east of Lincoln. That’s all I got.”

Aegon is nodding, making notes on his map with a glittery forest green gel pen. “Cool, cool. If I don’t end up eaten or a zombie, I can look forward to being a sterile, glow-in-the-dark mutant.”

Luke frets: “What if we accidentally drink contaminated water or something?”

“Then you die an agonizing death, kiddo,” Rio says. “Your cells dissolve and you turn into human Jello and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

Luke swallows noisily. “Awesome.”

“You might just get cancer if the dose is small enough,” you tell him. Luke does not seem pacified. Rhaena gives him a sip of warm Coca-Cola from a plastic bottle from the Wawa.

Jace comes trudging back to the road, zipping up his khaki chino shorts. “Alright, are we ready?”

Helaena is gazing solemnly out over the fields of green leaves, red roots that grow like arteries into the soil. “We should try to find antivenom.”

“Antivenom?” Aemond asks, distracted as he makes sure nothing of importance was left in the Tahoe. The keys are still dangling from the ignition; you won’t need them. There’s no breathing the Tahoe back to life. There’s no returning to Aemond’s house back in Boston. There is only the West, beckoning you to cross rivers and plains and mountains to join her, and to do it as people did two hundred years ago, no cars, no phones, no escape hatches. The only way out is through.

“For the snakes,” Helaena says.

Aemond stares at her. The stitches in his face are dissolving as the flesh weaves back together, jagged maroon scar tissue, beautiful savage ruins, landscapes of improbable survival. “Helaena, antivenom has to be refrigerated. Even if we miraculously found some, it wouldn’t be useable.”

She nods, eyes wide and glazed, still peering into the fields, into the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

A hand brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face, a whisper through the dissipating indigo of sleep: “Guess what today is.”

You startle awake and yelp as you bolt from your assailant. Aegon is watching you without any shame whatsoever. People are laughing as they gather up supplies so you all can get moving again, brushing teeth, arranging hair, drinking glass bottles of Stewart’s soda found last night in crates in the storeroom, snacking on bags of Utz chips. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows; specks of dust glimmer in the air like comets through the inhospitable void of outer space.

Luke says from where he is sitting on the floor, his arms and legs tethered: “Hopefully the day when somebody’s going to untie me.”

“It’s my birthday!” Aegon announces.

You’re still blinking at him, disoriented. “What…?”

“Aegon, I told you,” Aemond says, sipping a bottle of Stewart’s key lime soda. “It’s not your birthday. It’s not the 23rd.”

“It’s the 20th, right?” Rhaena says.

Rio looks to you, bewildered. “Isn’t it like the 25th?”

“We’re still in June?” Luke says. Now Aemond is hacking through his ropes with a hunting knife from the cellar in Distant, Pennsylvania.

“Your hand is healing up. Your color is good, your temperature is normal. I guess we can officially declare you human for the foreseeable future.”

“I knew it,” Jace says, combative so no one will see the desperate relief underneath.

Aemond examines your hands next, calloused over where the heat of the transmission tower burned the skin. There is no pretext for needing to tend to them any longer, no antiseptic or ointment or gauze. Aemond nods somberly at your palms, as if he isn’t entirely happy to pronounce them cured. His hands linger on yours for slow, unnecessary seconds.

“So what are we going to do special for my birthday?” Aegon presses eagerly.

“We’re going to walk between ten and twenty miles towards California,” Baela says.

“That’s not a birthday activity!”

Daeron groans as he inspects the screws and bolts of his compound bow. “Aegon, it’s not your birthday!”

“Shut up. You can’t even apply to get a credit card.”

“No one can get a credit card now! Currency is worthless!”

Rio offers you a cherries and cream soda. You take it and say: “Aegon, how old are you? On today, your alleged birthday?”

He hesitates. “That’s not the important part.”

Aemond smiles as he tells you, mock-whispering: “He’s thirty.”

“Thirty?!” Rio exclaims. “That’s like, an actual adult age. Marriage and a mortgage, shit like that. What were you doing before everything went insane?”

Aegon gestures vaguely. “I was considering a number of opportunities.”

“He was living on my couch,” Aemond says.

Rio shakes his head, grinning. “No job? No school? No nothing?”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I played a lot of golf.”

“He was totally doing nothing,” Jace says. “I was in my third year of law school at Harvard, Baela was getting a master’s in Aeronautics and Astronautics at MIT, Rhaena just started an Anthropology PhD, Luke was getting a master’s in Screenwriting at Boston University—he was going to be very sad and very broke, but still, he had a plan—and Aegon was doing…nothing.”

“I’ve never had a real birthday party before,” Aegon tells you; and there is something in his murky blue eyes that is tremendously sad, wounded, childlike. “I might not get another chance.”

“What do you want to do?” Now people are alarmed, skittish glances and mouths open to object. You are encouraging him.

“I don’t know yet,” Aegon says. But he’s glad you bothered to ask. You can see it on his face.

It’s not until several hours later—after noon, the sun high and blazing, everyone’s unpracticed feet aching and blistering in their shoes—that Aegon experiences a revelation like the angel Gabriel appearing to the Virgin Mary or Sir Isaac Newton extrapolating gravity from an apple falling on his head. Aegon’s epiphany appears in the form of a bowling alley in Shenandoah, Ohio called Luxury Lanes. It is remarkably unluxurious, a nondescript black rectangular building with a few doors in the front, one small tinted window on each, and no other openings. To Aegon, it is an oasis in a desert.

“I want to go bowling!”

“Aegon, we’re not going bowling,” Baela says, breathing heavily but trying to hide it, her hands massaging the small of her back. Aemond is watching her worriedly. Baela is the only person not burdened with carrying any supplies beyond her hammer and shiny new Ruger—and she resisted this accommodation at first—but still, she suffers more than anyone.

“Once again, it is my birthday—”

“Aren’t bowling allies soundproofed?” Rio asks Aemond. “You know, so they don’t get noise complaints?”

“Uh, I guess so…?”

“It’s kind of a fortress, isn’t it?” Rio continues. “Not many ways in or out. We wouldn’t be seen or heard. Might be a good place to stop for the night. ”

“Yeah!” Aegon says. “Right, Aemond?”

Aemond looks at you. It takes you a moment to figure out why. “I think the bowling alley is a good idea,” you tell him. “It’ll be safe, assuming we can clear it. And Aegon can have his party.”

Aemond is skeptical. “A party?”

“Survival isn’t just about not dying. It’s also about holding onto the things that make us human.”

“Like bowling!” Rhaena says excitedly. “It’s preserving a tradition! And I used to be so good at bowling. I bowled a 250 game once.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Aegon says, still delighted to have her on his side.

“There’s a sign for a Walmart maybe half a mile up the road,” Daeron points out. “We could search it for supplies and then double back here.”

Aemond polls the audience. Everyone agrees.

Shenandoah is tiny, rural, religious, and out of the way from the major highways. The Walmart doors are chained shut with padlocks, and amazingly no one has taken that as an invitation to drive their car through them or otherwise shatter the glass yet. Rio is honored to be the first. He takes the butt of his Remington shotgun and punches through the glass of the locked doors, kicks away loose shards, whistles and shouts to lure out any zombies. A dozen of them come reeling out of the aisles and towards the doorway. Daeron shoots down most of them with his compound bow. Rio kills two with the butt of his Remington, his new favorite toy. Aegon, the birthday boy, uses his golf club to beat in the skull of a teenager who is still wearing glittery pink nail polish and fake eyelashes. According to her nametag, her friends and family once called her Raelynn.

Inside the Walmart, Jace and Aemond take one side of the store, you and Rio the other, doing a quick sweep to make sure you didn’t miss any undead employees or customers waiting for the chance to sink their teeth into you. And when that’s done, you begin shopping.

The shelves are probably two-thirds empty, but there are still treasures to be found. You push carts through the aisles and fill them with candles, lighters, Chef Boyardee, Doritos, canned soup, fruit snacks, tuna pouches, 5 gum, bottles of Snapple, socks and underwear, hair ties, t-shirts and shorts, Kleenex tissues, pads and tampons, toilet paper. Baela finds some cute maternity dresses. Helaena picks through the pharmacy for useful medications, Aemond shadowing her with a baseball bat in his hands and his Glock at his waist.

“Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!” Rio exclaims, tossing several boxes into your cart.

“I miss grocery stores,” Rhaena says as she climbs the shelves to get the last box of Teddy Grahams.

“I miss going to the mall and getting Auntie Anne’s pretzel nuggets,” Aegon commiserates. Then he stumbles upon the liquor aisle and his eyes light up like high beams. “Aemond!”

Aemond appears—perhaps a bit flustered—and deliberates for a while as he browses the selection, Aegon waiting anxiously, before he decides: “Since it is allegedly your birthday, you can drink tonight. And you can pick one other person to drink with you. But only one.”

“Rio,” Aegon says immediately.

“Come on!” Daeron whines.

Aegon is already putting bottles of Captain Morgan rum into a cart. “Sorry. Illegal. Underage.”

“I’ve helped you butcher countless zombies, but I can’t drink?!”

“Just Say No, as Nancy Reagan would tell an innocent child such as yourself.”

Jace strides over, sly and playful, gnawing on a Twizzler. “Aemond, were you over there rummaging through the medicine aisles again? What do you keep looking for? Condoms?”

There is an awkward silence, an extremely awkward silence. Aemond glares at Jace. Jace’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I, uh…I was definitely joking. But…congrats on the possible future sex!”

“I already checked,” Luke tells Aemond apologetically. “You know condoms were the first thing to get bought up or looted everywhere.”

“Okay, great,” Aemond says quickly, willing the conversation to be over. There is blood, hot and mortified, flaring in his cheeks. He was thinking of you, he had to be; the only other single woman here is his sister, and obviously that’s not an option.

Jace takes another bite of his Twizzler. “Just pull out, man.”

Baela, incredulous, gestures to her belly. “Because that worked out super well for us.”

“I told you to stop riding me!”

“Yeah, a whole two seconds before you impregnated me with your super-swimmer Michael Phelps sperm.”

“Please don’t make me listen to this,” Luke begs. “I’m starting to wish I really was bitten.”

“Don’t you know all the tricks to not getting someone pregnant, Aemond?” Jace says. “Wasn’t that going to be your specialty? You wanted to be a vagina doctor? So don’t you know all the mysteries of the vagina, Aemond?”

“He was going to be an OB/GYN,” Baela says, unamused.

“Really?” Rio turns to Aemond. “Why would you want to do that?”

“So he gets to look at pussies all day,” Aegon says morosely, as if heartbroken that such a path is inaccessible to him.

“That’s not why,” Aemond insists, mostly to you.

You smile. “I didn’t think so. What’s the actual reason?”

“Interns do rotations in different departments so we can figure out what we enjoy and what we’re best suited for. I knew within two days of my OB/GYN rotation that that’s where I wanted to be. Giving birth is the only life-threatening trauma that is necessary for humanity to continue. I wanted to help people get through it as safely and painlessly as possible.” Then his gaze darts to Baela. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound worse—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m very much aware. It hurts like hell, people die. Believe me, I’d be thinking about that even if you hadn’t said it. I think about it all the time.”

“I have an idea you’re not going to like.”

“What?” Baela says. Aemond nods to the nearest shopping cart. “No way. You’re not going to push me around in one of those.”

“I believe it’s an adequate solution until an alternative appears.”

She sighs. “I’ve lost my body, my career, my society, my parents…must I lose my dignity too?”

Aemond winks. “Only when you’re too tired to walk.”

“Alright, Aemond. I realize you’re under the impression that this is a favor. So thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Let me give you a favor in return.” Then Baela begins shooing everyone except you and Aemond out of the liquor aisle. “Grab anything else you want, we’re leaving in five minutes! Jace, come look at the baby clothes with me…”

When the two of you are alone, Aemond says: “I really hope that didn’t make you feel too weird. I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable about the…um…the subject matter in general. But I wouldn’t want you to think that I was trying to…I don’t know. Assume anything or pressure you into something that you weren’t already open to. Obviously I like…um…I mean, enthusiastic consent is essential, and I just…I would never try to convince anybody or…you know what, I’m just going to stop talking now. Okay?”

“Aemond, I’m fine. I didn’t think it was weird.”

“It’s a compliment,” he confesses, flushing pink again, touching his chin, perspiration gleaming at his temples.

Now you have to show interest so he knows you’re on the same page. You’ve never had to think this way before, you’ve never liked anyone enough to play the game. “So hypothetically, if someone didn’t want to get pregnant but there were no condoms, pills, etcetera…what are the options?”

He looks at you, pleasantly surprised. “Well, there’s the rhythm method. It’s not perfect, but it’s been around forever and is reasonably reliable if done correctly.”

You are only vaguely familiar. “We didn’t get a lot of sex ed down in Kentucky.”

Aemond chuckles then leans in, a mischievous curl of his lips, a craving in the crystalline river blue of his eye. He grips the shelf above your head, his arm a canopy. His voice is hushed. The front windows of the Walmart face west where the sun is setting; golden light floods in to illuminate the store. “Is your cycle regular?”

“It is, actually.” This should be embarrassing, but it’s not; it’s exhilarating. You’re imagining him seeing you, touching you, unearthing secrets you’ve never been tempted to share with anyone else.

“So if we imagine it like a circle…” He draws one on the back of your hand, invisible, mesmerizing, blue-white lightning crackling up the path of your metacarpals, wrist, ulna and radius, humerus and clavicle, descending ribs like the rungs of a ladder to jolt the sinus rhythm of your heart. “The start of your period would be Day One.”

“Okay,” you say, hypnotized as his fingerprint skates in an arc across the bumps of your knuckles.

“Ovulation doesn’t happen until around Day Fourteen. You might have noticed some increased arousal and…wetness. Clear in color, elastic consistency.”

Your eyes are trapped in his face, smooth skin, jagged scar tissue. You tease him back, stepping closer. You can hear people snickering in the next aisle as they eavesdrop. You don’t care about them, and neither does Aemond anymore. “Now that you mention it…”

“That’s nature trying to trick you into reproducing. Day Fourteen is crunch time. Once ovulation occurs, the egg is only good for up to twenty-four hours. And then the rest of the cycle you’re effectively useless, as far as making miniature humans is concerned.”

“Wait, you’re telling me people can only get pregnant one day a month?” This seems improbable. “How has the species managed to survive this long?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Aemond admits. “Depending on the health of the specimens, sperm can survive up to five days inside a woman’s body. And it’s difficult to tell exactly when ovulation occurs. So, in practice, there’s basically one week a month when you’d want to avoid a man…completing the act, if you will.” He’s still smiling, taunting, famished, imagining the same scenes you are. You know this with a categorical certainty, as if you’re reading his thoughts like stark stripes of distance on a measuring tape. “And that’s also the week when your hormones are demanding you have sex, inspiring you to make all sorts of impulsive yet extremely consequential decisions.”

“Don’t I know it,” Baela laments from the next aisle, and there is a rupture of wild giggles.

“Anyway.” Aemond lifts his finger from the back of your hand and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him as he recedes from you. “There’s a basic overview.”

“It was very educational.” You follow him out of the liquor aisle.

“I’ve used the rhythm method for years,” Rhaena says as everyone makes their way towards the front of the store with their carts. “Clearly that’s just anecdotal, so don’t think I’m officially endorsing it. When I’m in my fertile week we add condoms. Well…we used to. Back when we could get them.”

“Ugh, I hate condoms,” Baela grumbles.

“We can tell,” Aegon says.

“I hate the way they feel, I hate the way they smell…”

“They’ve never bothered me,” Rhaena says. “I don’t notice that much of a difference. And it can be fun to try different kinds.”

“Are you on drugs?” Baela whirls to you. “Seriously, what is wrong with her? I’m right, aren’t I? Condoms are awful.”

Rio gives you a cautious look, uncharacteristically reticent. He’s not going to be the one to reveal it. He doesn’t know if it’s something you’re willing to share. But if anything is going to happen with Aemond—and you want it to, already you know you want him—then it’s something you think you should be honest about. You want him to know about you. You don’t want to have to create some false version of yourself to wear like a pelt, heavy, smothering, something that will inevitably need to be taken off.

“I am regretfully not qualified to say.”

“You’ve never used condoms?” Baela asks, a bit dubious.

“I’ve never done any of it.”

Everyone freezes at the defunct checkout counters and turns to gawk at you. “No sex?” Jace says. “No nothing?”

You shrug, smiling a little self-consciously. “I made out with a guy once.”

“The Marine from Corpus Christi?” Baela asks. They’re obsessed with him, they’re convinced there’s some lore to be excavated, translated, displayed like a relic in a museum. There isn’t. Sometimes people pass in and out of your life as seamlessly as shadows or sunlight, no weight, no indentations, nothing to recall or relay. He existed and then he didn’t. He was an airplane drawing contrails in the sky that faded before the blood red fire of dusk filled the horizon.

“No. Someone from home. Just a guy, not even worth mentioning.”

“Girl, you gotta fix that, soon, pronto, like yesterday.” Jace seems genuinely horrified. “You can’t die a virgin.”

“You really can’t,” Daeron adds, and Aegon pretends to be distraught over the loss of his youngest brother’s virtue.

“That’s what I’m always telling her!” Rio says.

“Not everybody wants to have sex,” Helaena murmurs as she records today’s findings in her spider notebook.

“True,” Jace concedes. “And that is totally legit. Mother Teresa, Queen Elizabeth, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Joan of Arc, Sir Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, the Jonas Brothers for a while, all great people. But Chips is not celibate by choice, correct?”

“Buddha had a wife and son,” Aemond says, preoccupied. He isn’t looking at you now, which is concerning; he’s peering down at where his hands grip his shopping cart, his brow creased with…what is that? Unease, disapproval, concern, thoughtfulness, fear?

“It’s not some big thing,” you backpedal. “I don’t have a hangup about it, I just never met a guy I liked enough, and enlisted men, they’re…well, a lot of them are taken, or cheaters, or idiots. Or all three.”

“Not to worry, Chipper.” Aegon claps a hand on your shoulder; and you aren’t sure if it is his purpose to break the tension, but he seems to have that effect regardless. “If you ever wish to be initiated into the art of lovemaking by a slightly below average and entirely unintimidating penis, I’d be thrilled to assist you. I love condoms. But in their absence, I am the king of pulling out. 100% success rate. Zero bastard children running around to my knowledge.”

“You should give Jace lessons,” Baela says.

And the last thing Aegon takes from the Walmart is a green battery-powered Toshiba CD player so he can blast to his mixtapes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Flickering candles lining the middle lane, drinks and snacks strewn across the tables, Rio’s Moonbeam propped up so it’s aimed at the disco ball still hanging from the ceiling from a time before the dead started devouring the living. Daeron is at the end of the lanes to reset the pins after each player’s turn. Helaena is keeping score in her notebook; Rhaena is currently in the lead by a massive 80 points. Aegon is wasted, dancing on a table and crunching Cool Ranch Doritos beneath his bare feet, his blonde hair flopping. Each time it’s his turn to bowl, Aegon has to roll the ball down the lane with two hands like a child. Rio, several shots deep but unable to feel much shy of half a bottle, is singing along with him to Cruise by Florida Georgia Line, but it’s really more like shouting, each sentence an off-key monstrosity that makes you laugh.

“Baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!

Down a back road, blowin’ stop signs through the middle, every little farm town with you!

And this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it!

So baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!”

You cleared Luxury Lanes easily; the only difficult part was figuring out how to get into the area called the pit where, in normal times, felled pins were mechanically collected and sorted. There were two former employees roaming around back there in their tattered uniforms, snarling and drooling blood. Both were rapidly neutralized.

Someone always has to be by the front doors, watching through the small tinted windows for signs of trouble, whether from zombies or living humans. Aemond is currently on guard, nursing a Snapple. According to the bottle, the flavor is called Takes 2 To Mango. You grab your own Snapple—plain and simple Lemon Tea, no charming gimmicks—and walk over to join him.

“So now I guess it’s my turn to say I hope that conversation didn’t make you feel weird.”

He smiles politely, glancing out the window. “No, I’m completely fine.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to look at me differently than you would any other girl, like I’m better than them, or worse than them, or like there’s anything wrong with me, because it really isn’t something I consider to be paramount to my identity, and people always seem to get all twisted up about it, but it’s a pretty boring story, I just…”

“You’ve never liked someone enough to take the risk. I get it. I don’t think you’re a freak or anything.”

“Okay. Good.” The next song on Aegon’s mixtape is Shaboozey’s A Bar Song. Jace is dancing with Baela, spinning her around as she giggles. With Rhaena’s coaching, Luke bowls his first strike. You rest your head on the door as you gaze up at Aemond, the phantom of a smile on your lips. “I might like you enough.”

And he says as if it’s the worst thing in the world, a plague, an infection, an apocalypse: “You’d fall in love with me.”

It hurts, of course it does, this flippant rejection. He burns you, he cuts you, he stitches you up with no anesthetic. You try not to show it. “You’re…confident.”

“No, I don’t mean because of anything specific I would do, it’s just…it’s natural to form a certain…attachment. To the first person you’re with. It leaves an impression.” Not an impression like a first judgment, superficial and swift; an impression like an imprint, a hollow, a prehistoric fossil that is preserved through eons. “That was already true before. And everything is more intense now, because life is so…” Aemond takes a while to settle on a word. “Precarious.”

You say like a challenge: “Are you still in love with the first girl you slept with?”

A shadow that ripples through his face, a flinching he tries to hide. You shouldn’t have asked. Still, you feel like you need to know, like you’ll run out of oxygen if you don’t. “I think I’ve gotten enough distance from it to realize that she wasn’t…wasn’t good for me in a lot of ways. It was an unconventional situation. But I still carry all these pieces of her around with me, yes. I don’t think that will ever go away.”

“Aemond,” you say gently. “Who was she?”

He is evasive, smirking. “It’s a cliché.”

“Was she a patient? That’s very Grey’s Anatomy of you.”

“No. She was my professor.”

An older woman, wise and experienced and captivating and sophisticated. He’s cut you again, a blade slicing effortlessly through veins like soft butter. “Oh. From med school?”

“Undergrad.”

“You were really young,” you say, a little startled.

He nods. “I was eighteen when it started. I was this shy, insecure, friendless freshman, she was married with two kids around my age. And it was off and on, but there was never anyone else for me, she took up too much space in my head, in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe unless I knew we were okay.”

“It went on for seven years?”

This seems to stun him, hearing how much of his existence she bottled like a terrarium. “I guess so.”

Is she dead? Missing? Safe somewhere with her husband and kids? “Is she…gone?”

His gaze drops to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“I was the one who killed her when she turned.”

It’s indescribably horrible; you don’t know what to say. “Aemond, I’m…I’m really sorry…”

He is abruptly nonchalant, the blue of his eye cool and dispassionate. “Look, I’m not prepared for this to be anything more than casual. And I don’t think casual is really in the cards for us. So it’s probably best to leave it alone.”

“Right,” you agree numbly, not meaning it.

“We’re headed different places, I’m going to California, you’re planning to end up in Oregon, it’s just…a bad idea to muddy the waters, I think.”

“Because I haven’t done this before.”

He shrugs ambiguously. “It’s a contributing factor.”

“Well you seemed pretty interested before you found that out, so.”

“I don’t mean to offend you.”

“You aren’t offending me. You’re disappointing me.”

Now Aemond is offended. “By trying to protect us?”

“No, by saying you don’t think I’m a freak when you clearly do, and by having some savior complex, or a whore-Madonna complex, or whatever’s going on in your head, it’s always such a mystery to everyone else.”

He downs the rest of his Snapple and shoves the bottle into the nearest trash can. You hear it thump against the bottom, no garbage bag. “Alright. This was fun.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of making a mistake, just like I always was.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have to teach you how to do everything,” Aemond snaps.

“I taught you how to shoot.”

“The fact that you don’t realize how wildly different those two situations are proves you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, bye. Sorry about your zombie girlfriend.”

Aemond glares at you, shocked, furious. “That was so fucking low.”

It was. You regret it. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him that. You flee to the far end of the bowling alley and sit alone at a table draped in shadows. After a while, Rio notices and ventures over to see what’s wrong, a bottle of Captain Morgan swinging from one hand. He’s tipsy now.

Rio sighs as he takes a seat beside you, reaching over to rub your back. His hands are large and indelicate; what he means to be comforting is more like getting manhandled. Sometimes he leaves bruises, but it’s not his fault. Nature gave Rio the body of a killer. If anyone is going to survive the zombie apocalypse, it’s him. “What’s going on, Chips?”

Your voice breaks as you say it; tears sting in your eyes. “I hate caring about people.”

He bursts out laughing. “Yeah, it’s the worst, isn’t it? But once in a while it works out.”

“Bryan.”

And now he knows you’re serious. You have his full attention, large dark eyes fixed on your face, lines etching into his brow beneath the artificial starlight of the disco ball. “What are you asking me?”

“We can’t leave them and walk to the West Coast ourselves, can we?”

“I mean, technically we could, but it would be really stupid. Everything’s so much easier with ten people. And also I think I’d have to kidnap Aegon and take him with us, I love that little dude. Why? Do you really want to leave them?”

“No.”

“I figured.” He offers you the half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan.

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Come on. It’ll take the edge off.”

You look at him. Rio looks back, smiling now.

“I’ll watch out for you,” he says. “And if you get bit I’ll shoot you dead, no hesitation, swear to God. I remember our promise. I won’t let you die alone.”

“You’re a good guy.”

“I know.” He nudges your arm with the bottle of Captain Morgan. “A few swigs won’t hurt. It’ll help you sleep.”

You take the bottle, twist off the cap, drink down amber-gold poison that burns like gasoline, like fire.

[emovulture]

Stuck in a Snare.

Fox!Reader saved by our beloved König :3 Word count: 588

Originally, he was just supposed to be out for a small walk to clear his head since there was downtime at base, and Konig needed to do something to destress, even just briefly. Although, upon hearing some suspicious sounds in the forest, Konig was now alert.

“What is that sound..?” He murmured, pulling his rifle a little closer to his chest, glancing into the bushes. Silently, he wandered into the thicket, keeping low in case an enemy soldier had somehow gotten this close to KorTacs main base. Yet, to Konigs surprise (and relief), it was just a fox stuck in a snare. “I thought we got rid of these sickening things..” He thought aloud, referencing the trap. He sighed, crouching down a few feet away from the panicstricken fox, gently placing his gun next to him. Despite the animals growling, he tried to get close to the poor animal. Seeing the fear in its eyes, and the scratches all over its body made him frown under the mask that heavily obscured his face.

You snarled and bared your teeth, trying to get out of the snare and away from the looming presence of the man, your tail tucked between your legs. You had assumed he was a hunter here to collect your pelt, so you wriggled and panicked, but you were only hurting yourself more, causing you to choke as the noose tightened around your neck. The man seemed to grimace with every harmful movement you made, knowing you were only hurting yourself. Slowly, he took off one of his gloves and boldly held his hand out in an attempt to show that he wasn't a threat, and that it was okay to get closer.

You hesitated, but took notice of his calm and gentle demeanour. You didn't come any closer, but you had thankfully calmed down a little more. Konig tried to subtly get out his knife, but that seemed to worry you more, causing you to snarl and bark again. He ignored it this time, and moved a little closer, knowing full well that you could harm him just as badly as he could to you, but he proceeded to try to cut the noose around your neck so you would be free. “Easy, easy.. It's okay, Kleiner Fuchs.” He murmured, keeping his voice low and soothing. Your snarls slowly turned into jittery whimpers, your ears flattened against your head. “I won't hurt you. Bitte, just stay still–” You abruptly attempted to bite his arm out of fear, but he was still wearing his military attire, so he wasn't harmed too badly. Thankfully, this just gave him a chance to grab your scruff, and finally free you of the trap. He let go of you, and as soon as you realised you were free, you bolted into the bushes. Konig let out a relieved sigh as you ran free, even if you were still wounded, he knew he shouldn't mess with the wildlife too much. He put his knife away and grabbed his gun, slinging it over his shoulder, and letting out a grunt as he stood back up, giving the bushes a quick look over. “Armer Fuchs..” He muttered before making his way back to base.

You were a smart little fox though. He frequently saw your beautiful orange pelt flash through the bushes when he had the time to get out every once in a while, occasionally hearing a playful yip or two. It seems like you wouldn't forget what he did for you.

a/n: This is well over due , unfinished schoolwork is a BIIIIITCH. also this is rushed, I'm sorry!! </3

[sammygrimoire]

An infamous streamer, Ghost_king(too obvious, i know), known due to hero forum/analysis channel gets popular after multiple thirst edits of a really well built man doing, mostly, somewhat, off cam interactions with him, or just walking across in the background and promptly get even more popular when an edited clip of a live stream video was uploaded about the chat asking about it.

Ghost_king:(with half his face mostly obscured as usual, but still manages to come off animated and very expressive) that was my... uh, boyfriend?? Actually...wait, no, um, I'm engaged? So, technically he's my fiancés..?

The whole chat blows up; congratulating him being engaged and spamming about why he sounded confused/hesitant.

Ghost_king, casually answers: oh, it's cause he didn't really have a choice

Video cuts off just as the chat starts spamming multiple asks, popping one after the other. Ghost_king's face blanking out before a look of horror dawns and as he lunges toward the camera.

Ghost_king: wait, no-

Multiple theories and reddit forms got uploaded left and right; ranging from the streamer, Ghost_king, was blackmailing his boyfriend/fiancée in being a relationship with him, Ghost_king being a heir to a mafia and (considering how overly well built the other guy is) was actually his personal bodyguard before the engagement but then was forced to be wed after Ghost_king fell in love and demanded it.

Theories after theories, some more well thought out and others just straight up outrageous. It didn't help that Ghost_king disappeared after that abruptly cut offed stream.That information even managed to catch the batfam's attention. Specifically was brought up by Tim/Steph, out of curiosity and concern had an investigation started about it. Meanwhile, Jason seems a little too quiet.

[vilebird]

BOTH TOO MUCH AND NOT ENOUGH

1) "I have been found wanting, Natalie thought; I have made myself unacceptable and am not worthy." - hangsaman, by shirley jackson

2) text: "meat must be beaten brutal into tenderness, that any body softens with violence, she grinds salt into the carcass, like a wound, a memory". image: a carcass of beef, cleaned, with the ribs on prominent display, painted in oils and rendered in thick strokes of red, orange, tan and white, on a plain dark red background. the text is cutouts on top, dark red text on light tan. - Family Portrait as Unfinished Meal, by Torrin A. Greathouse and Le Bœuf by Chaim Soutine. collage put together by @invisiblemonstrosity

3) a pale hand crushing ripe red strawberries, green leaves still attached, on a plain white background. - apparently by ouiloved on flickr, but they seem to have deleted.

4) bust photo of a tan person with a spotlight on them outside in the dark, head turned down, shoulder length messy wet black hair obscuring their face. their hand is raised to their chest and they are wearing a white tank top. fake blood is splattered and wiped around their chest and mouth. - i can't actually find this one all my attempts lead back to unsourced tumblr posts if you know where its from. help me

5: "You have no one who has any sort of consideration for you. You have had patience and endurance, and what have they done for you? Half-killed you." - carlyle’s house and other sketches, by virginia woolf

6: "try your whole life to be righteous and be good, wind up on your own floor, choking on blood" - sept 15th 1983, by the mountain goats

7: "such a waste of a girl, such rumination. i am obsessive. i contain nothing but the replay. i am blood and blood and replay. i am please don't go." - i put the coffin out to sea, by lisa marie basile

8: an image of a partially bald baby bird begging for food, drawn in the desaturated greens and black of a trailcam, on top, the text reads "i am asking you for something i need", on bottom, the text reads "why is it so hard to give it to me?" - trailcam baby, by @quezify

9: "was i raised without love? / or was i born unloveable?" - @psychwarded

10: "I, in my corner, with my monstrous needs." - As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh, susan sontag

11: "oh, i know that i'm not whole, and sometimes feel the flies swarming, like much of me is rotten." - roadkill ode, chad abushanab

12: a photo of a cut tree where much of the centre is rotted from fungus, accompanied by the text: "heart rot in pine. heart rot is the softening of a pine trees resinous heartwood, caused by an in-dwelling fungus. not all pines have it, but those that do make the excavation of a tree-hole next cavity easier for the red-cockaded woodpecker."

13: "rot made a home inside my body." - i know it's from "bloat" but cant find the authors name again. i think it starts with a c?

14: photo of an abandoned house in shades of brown and beige and orange, the walls are wet and scuffed and the drywall has been torn open in places, exposing the old lath. - abandoned, by @jaggedplains

15: photo of a mouldy strawberry, fading from bright red to grey-green fluff - Strawberry Gray Mold disease stock photo, by MediaProduction on gettyimages

16: "you ever feel like you were born with something rotten inside you and if people get close enough they're gonna find out" - tumblr post by @twoheadedfawnn

17: "we are meat, we are potential carcasses,' he once said. 'if i go into a butcher's shop i always think it is surprising that i wasn't there instead of the animal." - francis bacon

18: "you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth." - speeches for dr frankenstein, by margaret atwood

19: photo of a python hanging off a roof coiled around a black and white bird, poised to eat it - i heard some noise on the roof this morning, by candycane7 on reddit

20: "all that matters is that you want to hurt me. all that matters is that you want me." - when rome falls, by yves olade

21: "god told me i was forgiven and then he split me open" - god is made of hunger and i am made of dreams, by katie maria

22: "but this is not about love. once a pig is hung and cut straight, cut from rectum to neck, step inside her death like it is a room: that is how to touch her now. the lord said, you must not eat their meat or touch their carcasses. then came the end of the rib." - oh let's just be hogs, by gregory emilio

23: photo of a strawberry cut in half with its leaves attached. it is bright red, steel knife wet. the background is bright white and plain. - cut strawberry by liz west on flickr

24: photo of a handmade cloth sculpture of a dead autopsied pigeon, red zipper like an incision opening to its empty red interior, small cloth and thread organs arranged around it. - pandora: city pigeon, by jessica bartram

25: '"u need a therapist" actually i need to be euthanized' - tumblr post by deactivated user @122mg