#I.. a creature without blood per say

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than removal

The cards I made that inspired that post: Kitty commits extreme violence!

[qinchez]

━ .ᐟ₊⊹ PAIRING: myth/dragon sylus, x female mc ( mc’s name is surina ).

━ .ᐟ₊⊹ SUMMARY: tidbits of conversation have an immediate effect on sylus, making him reminiscent his earlier days with his beloved.

━ .ᐟ₊⊹ GENRE: very myth focused. heavy angst. no comfort.

━ .ᐟ₊⊹ NOTES: i started writing only recently and english isn’t my first language so take this with a grain of salt. quotes mentioned are not mine but canonically in the game.

“i made it while you were getting your marshmallows. i didn’t have a lot of time, so the final product is rough around the edges …. are you satisfied with it, my beloved?”

ruby eyes facing iridescent ones. warmth being spread along one’s face and through their hearts, the source of heat not caused from the bonfire but the blossoming feelings exchanged between them both.

“yes … i am.”

it seems that she liked the flower crown he made for her. good. it made him happy that she did, but little did she know that wasn’t the first time she was given one from him.

she had forgotten, all memories of him gone, and it hurt more than expected. he didn’t blame her per say, but having to act as if she was a stranger, as if she wasn’t the one he loves, the one he longed for after waiting for so long to meet her hurt.

glimpses and flashbacks of were all he had of their doomed past.

surina was the sole reason for his humanity. the girl who named him. sylus, the ruthless, decisive, cruel, and merciless leader of onychinus, named by his beloved. even after his death and even without her remembering anything, he still chooses to go by said name. kindly welcoming the remaining fragments of her instead of nothing at all. the feeling of her being a part of his life is something that he has always longed, sometimes even, begged for.

she had taught him to be human. having such a profound effect on sylus. she was the one who gave him a purpose and a sense of humanity, these no longer welcome fragments still remaining a part of him, accepting whatever parts of her remain. her influence on him so deep that he chose to continue living under the name she had given him. her lasting impact on him was so significant that sometimes he yearned for her to be there, even in just some small capacity.

he had always clutched onto his humanity, in his own words, mistakingly believing he was a normal person. growing up and thinking he was one and trying to bend his identity into something he is not, refusing to come to terms with the fact that he is not human anymore, but a monster instead. he was scared. not only was his appearance changing, but his entire view of himself. who is he? who has he become? the very way he saw himself was now tainted.

her love acted like a balm over his injuries. as if she’s wiping away the blood from injuries caused by his own self. the act is so tender, a stark reminder of the way she viewed him, the way he wished to be viewed. like her equal, her companionship, and her love. he would love to simply exist as the man she loves.

accepting his identity as a monster also meant the fact that he always had a soft spot for animals. dragons have long been depicted as mythical monsters with powers and a fearsome presence. they are creatures of legend that inspire fear and awe in those who hear their name, always associated with destruction and chaos, yet symbolizing creation along with destruction. sylus had always been aware of this perception, sometimes even choosing to bask in it all. after all, he is strong, fearsome, and capable of unleashing destruction. although sometimes, that perception couldn’t be more different than what he is or wanted to be. people often thought of dragons as cursed animals. ones that should be locked away and are incapable of any love and affection, not knowing that said deemed impossible human love would be the cause of this dragon’s demise. a creature that is always perceived incapable of harboring such emotions, and an animal that could never be human, falling utterly in love. a love that made him thought he could live as a human too, and one that couldn’t last long.

a dragon’s curse that consists of killing his beloved. one that the two fated lovers … two star-crossed lovers whose fates and souls are entwined, could not escape, no matter how much they tried. no matter how many tears were shed and no matter their relentless efforts, it would always be futile. doomed by the narrative, the two lovers’ unwavering fight against their fate will never suffice. fate will continuously plunge the two lovers into the abyss as was written. the blood-red greatsword constantly reappearing, longing to be thrust into the dragon’s ruby like chest.

his heart, gleaming and vulnerable always seemed to beckon the blade. as if it was begged to be destroyed, as if his death was the key to some greater truth. she, his lover, was doomed to forever be his arch-nemesis. continuously finding herself the unwilling hand of fate, and the wielder of the cursed sword.

“….. you must press on. because if you don’t … there’s no going back.”

no matter how much she tried, how much she strained her own body to stop it all, it’s as if her body had a mind of its own, refusing to be controlled by her. agonizing screams pierced the abyss yet fell upon deaf ears. and to make matters worse, he was the one further plunging the sword further into his own chest. she knows him well enough to recognize that this is his last act of rebellion against their predestined fate, and a final laugh in the face of the curse, ending it on his own terms.

her hands and body were trembling, every gasp of pain from him resulting in a guttural sob escaping from her, tearing through the void. she could feel his pain and she wishes she can make this stop somehow, but all her attempts were futile, the curse merely mocking her for even trying to defy it. his ruby eyes, always the most gentle with her, were still filled with love and warmth but they now shimmered with a bittersweet resolve — a sight that broke her even more. the eyes that she adores, ones that always shone with an outwardly brilliance, that could put even the shiniest of gem stones to shame, were now getting dimmed as life was seeping from them.

he was bound to this blade, his soul burning with it. their sacred love now destroyed, and the stars weeped for them over and over. stars that have always shone so brightly were now dimmed with sorrow, mourning the tragedy of their love. every flicker of their light seemed to carry the grief of love once shared, an eternal lament to a love that couldn’t defy its cruel destiny.

the sword that was now pulsing, was ready to engulf him whole. he was slipping away between her fingers, the love of her life, dissolving into fragments, every shard carrying a piece of his soul, along with her own. even the stars that were weeping, their light flickering out one by one, the pain and suffering exhibited being enough to fully extinguish their light. it was as if the stars were paying tribute to the grief and agony that transpired.

she embraced him with all the strength she could muster, arms fully wrapped around his body, begging to anchor him to this world, to her. he was her other half, their souls and hearts bound forever. fingers were now desperately clinging onto him, as if to etch her love into his very being, and whispered pleas were being uttered.

“stay. please … please stay. don’t leave me, not like this, not again …” her voice was breaking, carrying the weight of their agony and the weight of a thousand lifetimes of loss.

she didn’t know who she was praying and begging to, but it didn’t matter. she would pray to every god that existed and kneel before every god and beg and beg and beg, if it meant she can have him next to her. she would scream her desperation to the heavens if she had to, move mountains, and commit every sin known to mankind if it meant he would not leave her side. she would beg until her knees buckled and her body gave up on her, knees bleeding from the ground’s cruel embrace, just so they can live the simplest of lives together. she wishes she could rewrite the stars and undo their doomed fates, no longer wanting anything else from the world, except his presence, because a world where he does not exist was one she could not endure.

she pressed her forehead against his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat of his heart — possibly for the very last time. the heart he gave to her without a second thought as it was hers since the beginning of time. he was merely returning it back to it’s rightful owner. with the last of his strength gathered, he kisses her forehead and whispers a goodbye, his eyes brimming with tears and love for her. her body shook, wracked with sobs that echoed the depth of her anguish as she listened to his heart as it stopped beating. as he slipped away, she was left with her own self, and an incurable tear in her heart. after all, no matter how much she longed for it, her love alone would never be enough to defy the cruel narrative that bound them.

[icycoldninja]

Lab Visit (Sephiroth x Scientist!Reader)

(Set in Crisis Core)

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

Sephiroth was due for a physical today. He was supposed to receive new Mako injections and stamina boosters, as per Hojo's orders. You, one of Shinra's top scientists, had been ordered to complete this procedure. While the very mention of such a task frightened your fellow scientists, you were not to be deterred. Sephiroth was a bristly, rather cold person, but he wasn't as cold to you, which could probably be credited to the little friendship the two of you had built. Over the years, Sephiroth's visits to the lab had brought you company, real company, not the ramblings of some deranged lunatic who lurked about in the shadows. Sephiroth was different, both physically and mentally, though you could never tell why. There was something about him that enabled his very presence to be both calming and terrifying all at the same time. Yes, the man could be nice at times, but there were several disastrous instances where he lashed out in anger at anyone who dared approach him with a needle or syringe, though when you did it, you were a different story. One could even say...he trusted you. This trust allowed you to do things to him no one else could, such as take samples of his blood without him going ballistic and destroying everything in the lab in a fit of rage--or possibly, fear.

"Y/N," A low, sinister voice intoned, as an old man with greasy black hair tied back in a low ponytail emerged from the shadows.

"Dr. Hojo," You greeted, feeling yourself tense under his menacing gaze. Of all the scientists--no--all the people in Shinra, Hojo was who you detested the most. The acts he'd committed were unforgivable. Turning your own assistants and fellow scientists into mutant creatures for "research"?! Unbelievable! Not to mention the things he'd done to Sephiroth before you'd even arrived. You hadn't even uncovered the details of what happened, but you knew it had to be bad.

Still, Hojo was your employer; he was paying your wages and providing you with opportunities to learn and grow your experience--as well as chances to talk to Sephiroth more often, so you had to grit your teeth and bead it.

"The subject will be here soon," He finally said, sounding rather giddy. "Prepare the equipment. I want samples of everything." You gulped, knowing full well that when Hojo said he wanted "everything", he meant everything. Skin samples, hair samples, sweat samples, and more. You barely finished gathering up your gear when a familiar figure trooped through the door.

"Dr. Y/N, how do you do?" You spun around, trying--and failing--to hide the grin on your face.

"General Sephiroth, a pleasure to see you again. Do have a seat." Sephiroth nodded before tugging off his leather trench coat, revealing his lack of underclothes. He hung the coat on a rack on the wall and took a seat on the hospital-style bed you'd prepared for him. From the corner, Hojo watched, a devious glint in his eye. You busied yourself with gathering up vials and beakers, and such, while the two men glared at each other silently. After several minutes, Hojo departed, presumably to slither back into whatever hole he crawled out of, leaving the two of you alone in the room. Almost instantly, the tense mood was lifted.

"I can't believe you can put up with him," Sephiroth sighed, crossing his bare arms. You shrugged, sterilizing a needle with alcohol.

"Believe me, I'm trying very hard not to throw something acidic at his head." Your eyes met, smirks both plastered on your faces.

"I would like to see you do that," Sephiroth chuckled, extending his arm for you to prick.

"And to do so would be my dream come true," You responded, gently pricking his arm with the needle and drawing a few small drops of blood.

Sephiroth nodded, a smile on his face as he relaxed into the hospital bed. Over the course of the next hour, you collected all the samples Hojo would need for his sick creations, and once the Mako infusion drip was in, you were both free to chat, about work, about your own personal lives, about everything. Throughout the entirety of this short visit, Sephiroth looked happier than you'd ever seen him, even though he was in a place he hated. He was happy with you, and you were happy with him.

Once the infusion was complete and Sephiroth was free to leave, he did so reluctantly, for the only reason he braved the nightmares of this lab, the only reason he subjected himself to experimentation, was so he could see you.

[atarathegreat]

BAKUGO NOW

Did you say: fantasy AU Bakugo smutt?

Dragon Prince Bakugo.

Bakugo wasn't opposed to an arranged marriage, per se. His mother and father were done with their exploring, and his mother was done berserking. Bakugo himself still hunted, but his mother and father were done with what they called 'young people activities'.

Besides, a marriage meant a celebration, and a celebration meant that everyone got to go wild. Drinking, sparring, dancing! It would all be so much fun for him and the others. It was like Bakugo could already smell the ale and feel the punches that he would be earning. It excited him to no end. Whoever was going to be his wife, as lucky as she was, would have to manage with him being as rowdy as he pleased. Maybe he would get lucky, too, and she would be a barbarian like him, just as rowdy.

"Bakugo, are you really going to wear that nasty pelt?" His mother, Mistuski, stood in the arch to his chambers, soon to be shared with a stranger, "You wear that dirty thing to go hunting and fishing and you want to wear it for a wedding celebration?"

Bakugo turned and glared at his mother, all while taking heavy steps toward the pile of clothes and pelts in the corner, "You want me to wear these overly fancy rags? Do I look like someone who wears green? I'm likely to be mistaken for a boar or a nightwalker!" He was wrong, of course, as he usually was, but his mother understood his anger. Her son didn't like fancy items or flashy jewelry. But his hunting pelt? Surely he had better sense than that. "Don't you want to make a dazzling first impression on your future wife?" Mitsuki smiled, holding up a nicer, cleaner pelt.

"I don't rightfully care. Our marriage is political at best, and a mothers move to get me married at worst." Bakugo plopped onto his bed.

Mitsuki was shocked. Not that he was wrong, her son was intelligent, but that he had openly said it without knowing what was leaving his lips. Sure, political was the best way to call it, bringing barbarians and the clerics together in, at least, a shaky alliance. But it would also be a lie to say that her and her husband hadn't also planned it so that her son would have a wife sooner, maybe even kids if he felt like being the bare minimum for a husband. Mitsuki sighed and sat next to her son, her awfully thick-headed son, "Can you just do as I ask you? Just this once, let this go smoothly?" She hated to beg her son to be clean, but she knew that there was a soft spot somewhere in him.

"If I do, will you get off my back about it?"

"I might."

To relent and let his mother have her way would bite him in the ass later, but he got up and switched the pelt out, securing a lighter wolf pelt at his hips, "Happy now?"

"Okay! Be ready by midday and don't get covered in blood, this needs to be a good impression for the girl and her family." Mitsuki clapped as she left, feeling triumphant.

Come midday, her victory was null. The poor girl's family had sent her alone. From Ethel to Kazar, the young lady had traveled in the back of a wagon with nothing but a simple dress. No jewels, no colors, not even a smile. Mitsuki watched as the girl stepped from her wagon, simple flat shoes hidden under the long fabric of her skirts. She was supposed to be a noble, but she looked like a little peasant child who begs for money.

"I thought clerics wore robes and traveled together?" Her husband, Masaru, watched the girl with pity, "She looks sad."

Her soft flat shoes were dirty and torn, like the bottom of her dress, and the rest of her was...grey. Her and her aura were dull and grey and defeated. As if she had nothing left.

"So much for that alliance, huh?" Bakugo scoffed, returning inside the castle to avoid the silent creature that would be his bride. She wasn't interesting enough to keep him around for anything, and he wouldn't subject himself to the nap she would give him. His mother, on the other hand, refused to let this be the ending or a fail. Mitsuki smiled and took the girls hands in her own, "Hello, sweetheart. How was your trip?"

"Long, Your Highness." The girl even sounded like a field mouse, how adorable, "Long and silent."

If anyone had paid attention for a fraction of a second, they would have seen that the wagon rode off as soon as her foot touched the ground. Sad. But Mitsuki was happy that the girl was in Kazar now, at least she would grow to have some semblance of a family that would travel with her. Mitsuki nodded, "Call me Mitsuki. What is your name, hun?"

"Y/n." She responded well enough, albeit timidly. Masaru suspected that Y/n was raised in one of the many families that viewed the woman as caretakers and mothers. A devastating fate when women were as strong as the men if given the chance to build muscle. There was no doubt that Bakugo would be upset by this girl not being strong or loud. "Where is your family?" He was curious, who was this girl and why was she alone?

"They sent me alone. Said that the alliance meant little to them so long as I was out of their sight." Y/n spoke without confidence, but as if she believed every word she said, "They wanted to thank you for taking this burden off their hands."

That struck Masaru in a visceral way. Her own family saw her as a burden? How awful. She was anything but, and she was cute, clearly had nice genes for a cleric.

"I wish to apologize. I... I know little. I cannot read or write; I hardly understand my own ways. I'm useless and lack the ability to bring anyone joy." It was so awful to hear the things she said about herself. Y/n was pretty, Mitsuki could already see the beautiful grandchildren she would gain from this girl and her son. Good genes and good genes bred better genes, in her mind. "But I am willing to learn, if there is anyone with the patience to deal with my stupidity. I can clean, but I've never been praised for the work." She was so upfront about what she thought was things they would turn her away for.

And this behavior persisted into the celebrations. Y/n isolating herself in the corners, in the shadows, avoiding the others who wished to get to know her and welcome her to the clan and village. It was upsetting.

Bakugo found her after a hefty search (a search of ten minutes where he wasn't actually looking but happened to glance at her a few times before finally approaching). "What's wrong? Do you not realize how grateful you should be for this?" Bakugo came on strong, he was aware of that, but who hid during their own wedding celebrations? She seemed to be brushing it all aside and acting as if this was what she deserved. "Apologies. I'm not supposed to interact with anyone." Y/n was a mumbling mess, never speaking louder than she thought she needed to. It pissed Bakugo off to no end. "Whatever. If you don't want to be down here, then go to bed. You'll bring the mood down." He returned to the sparring corner of the big room, joining in with the fights.

Y/n, with a lot of difficulty, managed to find the bedchambers where she would be sleeping. It was Bakugo's room, of course, she knew that, but now she would also occupy the space. It was a messy space, a man's space. How was she supposed to feel at home in this strange place, with strange people, and an even stranger lifestyle? She was used to the women being small, quiet, never drawing attention to themselves. The women here in Kazar, they didn't seem to care about the consequences of having the attention. Aside from that, the women were muscley and brawn. They even knew how to read.

She crawled into the windowsill and looked up at the stars. For a brief moment she foolishly thought about whether her family was missing her. It was a dumb thought, one she wiped away quickly.

Meanwhile, Bakugo was sparring and drinking, thoughts of his new bond gone as he drowned his liver in ale and whatever foods had been made. His concerns were with winning the matches he was in. Zero thoughts of the girl up in his window. When he did finally stumble his way up to his chambers, Y/n was there immediately. Her gentle hands held cold cloths to his alcohol warmed cheeks. "What the hell are you doing to me, woman?" Bakugo grabbed her wrists to keep her hands on his face. The way she stared at him, wide eyes that reminded him of a frightened doe staring at a hunter as she waited for him to make a move.

"You're too damn quiet." Bakugo moved his face closer to hers, wanting to see what type of reaction he could pull out of her. Y/n seemed like a stoic girl and Bakugo wanted to see her lose her temper, to see her make any face except that doe eyed stare. So, he kept moving closer, until his lips touched hers and he'd never felt something so soft. He would blame the ale later.

Her body was rigid, yet loose, as Bakugo held her cheeks to keep her from moving away from him. Her tongue tasted of fruits, wild berries and water from a stream. It was addicting for the man, even if he was just some drunken barbarian at the moment.

Something about her softness was drawing him in. The way she moved how he wanted her to and the careful way she touched him, like he was as fragile as she was. It was different, in a good way.

"You have a choice in this." He mumbled, unable to make himself pull his lips away from hers, "Just because I am your husband does not mean you have to do everything I wish."

And she still didn't reject him or his advances. It was almost like she leaned into them, put more pressure in her gentle touches and soft caresses. The pelt around his hips hit the wall before the floor as he tossed it, not really giving a damn about where it went as long as it was off of him. "You're cute, I'll give you that." Bakugo mumbled as he walked her backwards towards the bed, bunching the skirts of her dress in his hands, "I wonder if the rest of you is as soft as your hands..."

"I'm not worth your physical affections." Y/n fell back easily onto the bed, never pushing Bakugo away. A loud laugh exploded in his chest at her words, "You're worth it if I find you worth it. You clearly aren't smart enough to gauge that."

Soft was an understatement. Plush and soft, Bakugo couldn't keep himself from squeezing every inch of her skin. "Soft as a hawk sprite chick. You ever felt one of them?" Bakugo nuzzled against her collar bone, "I'll catch one on my next hunting trip so you can."

This girl, this woman that Bakugo has been married to, what type of life had she led? Why was she so subservient to him? She didn't even fight him as he undressed her. He was a stranger to her, and she just... let him do as he pleased. Would she even make noise if he didn't ask her to?

Bakugo bit at her neck, smiling to himself at the involuntary gasp that he had pulled from her. He had caused a sound, though it was soft, to leave her without asking. "You're softer than the women here, you know that? It's nice, but I want you to talk more. Fuck, scream at anything if you want." Bakugo shuffled his pants down his legs and laughed at the way she avoided eye contact. It was apparent that she would be someone he'd have to have a small amount of control over, but that was the fun with some of these things. Bakugo leaned over her and grabbed her chin, "I want to see these pretty eyes on me."

Without a second of warning or even courtesy of being careful, Bakugo snatched her to the edge of the bed and snuggled his cock deep within her hold. She was soft, and it felt like she was trying to pull him deeper. "There you go, just keep squeezing." Bakugo pulled back a little to look at the connection he had forged, "Stretched fuckin' wide, you know that?"

She was cute when she whimpered, her unscathed hands gripping at Bakugo's rougher skin was nearly driving him absolutely crazy. This stranger, this quiet woman that Bakugo was so, so sure he would hate, had managed to make herself the center of Bakugo's, albeit drunken, world. There was nothing to stop him from leaving his teeth marks across her skin, and she looked a lot better with his markings. He had to think for a moment about how wonderful it would be to see her running to him after a hunting trip, how excited she would be to see him return was something he was hoping to see one day.

The pleasure was getting him too lost in his mind, making him think that maybe being married wasn't so bad, that maybe it wasn't just a political marriage. He didn't even see that he was hurting her, but she didn't sound like she was in pain. Blood started to stain the pelt blanket below her, causing a slight bit of concern. "Are you okay?" He didn't stop, she was too comfortable, but he also wouldn't make the mistake of thinking her body was as tough as a barbarian womans. "Stings a little, but it's okay~" Every word sounded like it was laced with euphoria. Maybe she had never felt such a thing, never had sex. Perhaps her body was as strong as a barbarian womans, she just hadn't ever used it.

"Hold on to me if you need to, I'll take care of you." Bakugo mumbled, putting more of his teeth marks across her neck.

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

---

Chapter Nine: Ultimatums

Now Playing: Twilight by bôa

Warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, spiders, mentions of fighting, reader has beef w/ Edward

Bella and I had an icy silence between the two of us. Jacob refused to talk to her after she chose Edward. I didn’t blame him. I felt betrayed, too, that my sister would choose him and his family over her own flesh and blood.

Well, she won’t be made of flesh and blood for much longer, I thought bitterly.

Charlie tried to get us to talk about it. Neither of us could without revealing the secret about vampires.

Sometimes, I think about telling Charlie about them just to spite my sister. I don’t, though. It would put him in too much danger, and that’s only if he believed me, which was doubtful.

I spent most of my time at Emily’s. The spare room was entirely mine now, and Sam had hung up decoration for me.

“This is as much your home as it is ours,” he had told me. I’m embarrassed to admit that I cried.

Jacob and I were closer than ever. Paul and I were still distant and icy. I didn’t have the energy to fight with him, and he kept his distance. I had explained as much as I could to Max about why I had been ignoring him, and we had made up about it. Sort of.

He was still sore about it, but he accepted the fact that I had things I just couldn’t tell him. He also had a lot more of an objective take on Bella and I’s situation, so he was good for perspective.

---

Emily’s house felt more like home to me than my actual house did. I could express my worries and hurt without fear of putting anyone in danger, and the house wasn’t accessible to vampires. It made me feel better.

I had just come back from a shift at Roy’s when I stumbled in, kicking off my shoes and collapsing face first into the couch to fall asleep.



---

I was avoiding going home, so we went to La Push. The boys played various games along the shore, and I was collecting shells and pretty rocks.

Leah was walking with me. She didn’t say anything, and I was grateful. After a while, Seth bounded up and held his hands out.

“Look!” He said, laughing, “Look what I’ve got!”

Curious, I peered at his cupped hands only to see a massive, hairy spider peering back at me.

I shrieked, stumbling backwards in my attempt to get away from the nasty thing. Leah stopped me from falling by grabbing me under my arms, but I continued to scramble away. Seth laughed and chased me with the damn thing, and I’ve never run faster in my life.

I sprinted back to Sam and Emily, ducking around Jacob and Paul as I made my escape through their game of football.

“Knock it off, Seth!” I demanded as I used Jared as my personal shield. Seth grinned, lunching forward. I shirked again, shooting backwards.

Paul picked Seth up around his torso, hauling him over his shoulder.

“Quit tormenting Y/n before she kicks your ass,” He warned, “She’s the one who helps make your food, and Emily’s not immune to bribes from her.”

Seth only giggled, dropping the spider down into the sand. I hastily backed up further from the scuttling creature as it hurried over to the brush.

---

Bella’s going to Florida with Edward. He got the tickets per my suggestion to try and get my sister to change her mind. If she was a vampire, she couldn’t see Renee and Phil in Florida. She couldn’t be in the sunshine. I hoped it would help.

---

Bella and Jacob were talking again. It was a relief. Maybe he could help change her mind, since going to Jacksonville didn’t.

Edward texted me the results, and I nearly threw my phone in the deep fryer. During my shift at Roy’s, my thoughts were filled with ways I could possibly get my sister to want to stay human. All of them revolved around Edward leaving again, but I knew it was too late for that to happen again.

I was walking to my truck when I saw a familiar face standing beside it.

Paul was leaning against the driver’s side door, his burly arms crossed over his chest. I tossed him the keys after unlocking the car, sliding into he passenger’s seat and waiting.

I wasn’t mad at him anymore. Not like I had been. The closest thing I was feeling was disappointment. He still didn’t apologize, not verbally, at least. It had pissed me off to no end that he refused to say the two little words that would fix everything, but Emily had made me rethink my anger.

Bella had just gotten back from Italy. All the guys were out patrolling. Seth and Leah were hanging out with us at the house.

Paul and I had gotten into another argument where both of us were being pigheaded only to annoy the other. He had stormed off in one direction, and I had gone the opposite way he did. Emily had come to find me.

“What are you so upset about?” She asked calmly, sitting behind me to braid my hair.

“He won’t acknowledge that he’s wrong!” I had said, and she had just hummed.

“You want him to say that he was wrong in his actions?” She asked, and I opened my mouth to respond. She continued before I could, “But were you not also wrong?”

I paused, thinking.

Sighing, I answered, “We’re both wrong.”

“Then what is it that you want from him?” She asked, always a voice of reason. I was quiet for a long minute as I tried to come up with an answer.

“I want him to say sorry.” I said at last, “I want him to apologize. And before you say anything, I won’t apologize first. He started this issue and he keeps starting shit. I’ll only apologize if he does first.”

She was quiet as she sectioned my hair out, running her fingers through it slowly.

“He has never been good with words,” she told me, and I laughed mirthfully, “He has always been someone who pays attention more to actions. He may never say he’s sorry, his pride might not allow for it at times, but he always shows what he feels.”

In the months following that discussion, I had payed more attention to his actions. We still argued, insults were still thrown, but my anger fizzled out quickly.

When he had made a jab about Bella that had pissed me off enough that I stormed off, he saved me dinner. The plate had the best parts of whichever foods we were eating that night, taken from his own plate and given to me.

He had made a snide comment about Max, and I had spat back about having a life outside of the pack. He had been the one to storm out, then, but I woke up to movie tickets on my bedside table. The note on them wrote, “Since you have a life, allegedly.”

He was still an ass, and he was still moody with a hair-trigger temper, but I was slowly starting to see beyond it again.

I didn’t want to apologize before he did. He was prideful, but so was I.

So I did what he did for me.

I pissed him off by making a dig about his capabilities and helpfulness a few weeks ago. As an apology, I convinced Emily to make wings for dinner since they were his favorite. He had looked at me oddly when I put the plate down in front of him, but I didn’t say anything and neither did he.

He and I argued in the car about my being a burden to him, and how he should just leave if he was so bothered. It resulted in him slamming the door and storming off into the woods. I brought an entire chocolate pie back from Roy’s for him.

I supposed that if he was an ass, I was, too.

---

I was sitting with Emily and Seth in the living room, watching old movies while the rest of the pack were out patrolling.

Seth was sitting in front of me on the floor as I put his hair into elaborate styles Renee used to put my hair into. Emily had just come back with the popcorn when Embry and Quil dragged Paul into the house. Both of them looked fine, but Paul’s face was cut open and his hands were split.

“What happened?” Emily demanded as I stood to go get the first aid kit from the kitchen.

I came back to the living room and found Paul refusing to let Emily near him, “It’s going to heal anyway, quit fussing!”

Still relatively intolerant to his bullshit, I grabbed him by his wrist and dragged him to the kitchen. He let me pull him along, snagging a chair from the dining table to sit on. I grabbed a wash cloth and wet it with warm water, carefully cleaning up his face.

“What happened?” I asked quietly, dabbing away the trickling blood from his brow.

“We were chasing the redhead, and she kept jumping between our land the Cullen’s,” he explained, “The big one followed her onto our land and I got him off. Cut my face in the process.”

I pursed my lips, but didn’t say anything.

I turned around to grab the disinfectant and dabbed a q-tip into it, tracing it along the cuts on his face. It ran from his hairline down to his brows, cutting across his nose and down across his lips. Already, the bleeding had stopped and the skin was ever so slowly closing. His hands were more or less just scraped up, already healed from his accelerated healing.

I assume the one who broke the treaty by leaping over the creek was Emmett. He was by far the largest of the Cullens, tall and wide almost like Jared was. He was nice enough any time he dropped Bella off back at the house. He almost reminded me of Embry, playful and excitable. But despite his intentions, he had broken the treaty.

“Emmett broke the treaty,” I said aloud, voicing my thoughts as my eyes focused on Paul’s, “What does this mean going forward?”

He shrugged, “It’ll have to be renegotiated, most likely. We don’t want an all out war since Victoria’s still loose and on our turf, and neither do they.”

I nodded, feeling weary.

Paul went to sleep on the couch after I cleared him. I cleaned up the cloth and tissue I had used, putting the first aid kit back where I found it. I, too, went to sit on the couch. Paul moved his legs when he saw me coming, settling them into my lap when I was comfortable.

Jacob came back after lunch. He had been talking to Bella, he said, and reported that Edward was trying to keep her in the dark about Victoria in the name of “protecting her.”

I took a deep breath, pulling out my phone. I dialed his number, waiting.

He picked up on the third ring, and I didn’t wait for him to speak.

“Either you keep my sister in the know, or I do it for you, Edward.” I told him flatly, “Which do you prefer? You can sugar coat it to hell for all I care, but we both know that I won’t.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“I see you’re still believing everything your dogs tell you,” he commented dryly, and Paul opened his eyes to glare narrowly at the phone in my hand.

“And I see that you’re still a cowardly little bitch,” I snapped back, “You have twenty four hours to explain the Victoria shit to my sister before I do it myself.”

“Last I heard, you two weren’t exactly on speaking terms,” he countered, and I felt triumphant.

“Don’t believe everything you hear, right?” I taunt, “Besides, she doesn’t have to hear it from me. There’s a good deal of people who don’t like the fact that you baby her for your own comfort.”

I was met with silence, and I smiled.

“Twenty four hours, leech,” I reminded, hanging up the phone.

---

At Roy’s the next evening, Max was sitting in a booth with papers surrounding him. He didn’t order much, more occupied with his current history assignment than eating. I didn’t blame him, the essay was brutal and the topic was plain boring. I only did it to get it over with, and it took me three of the eight days since it was assigned to get it finished.

Unfortunately, my friend wasn’t so smart and waited until the last possible moment to start and finish the essay from hell.

“Max, take a break and drink some water,” I ordered, “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Wearily, he leaned back and rubbed his face.

“I hate this essay,” he bemoaned, “I hate school. Why can’t I just drop out?”

“Because then your mom would actually kill you,” I grinned, pushing his water towards him pointedly. He sighed dramatically, sipping the drink until it was at least half gone. Satisfied, I left him to his work once more.



 ---

(Edited 1/5/25)

***Trying to add some more of Max! Lmk if you guys want anything in particular!

That’s a wrap for this chapter!! What’d you guys think ?? Also I lied, reader will be getting to understand the Cullens most likely in the following chapters

Anyway, peace out ✌️ 💕

(ps if y’all have any requests for scenes, things you’d like to see me write, etc etc lmk!!)

(pps i didnt forget abt max i promise)

[merlingenrecs]

The truth comes out—and things go terribly. Perhaps Arthur doesn't take the news well and draws his sword. Perhaps Uther finds out and Merlin is strapped to the pyre. Perhaps Merlin has to escape from Camelot and leave all he loves behind. Can there be a happy ending? A hopeful one? Or will things forever fall apart?

Today's gen fic rec theme: Magic Reveal Gone Wrong!

↓ Find the list of fanfic recs under the cut! ↓

⚬ I don’t know you anymore by cynthia1314, 1k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/49552066 summary: Arthur felt his blood turned cold. Was this a dream? He wondered frantically. There was no way Merlin just killed his uncle without even touching him. That was magic, but Merlin couldn’t have magic, could he? Or perhaps that was an unknown creature who wore his friend’s face.

⚬ The Lies that Break Us by Fulgance, 2k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/934566 summary: Arthur reacts badly.

⚬ A Blessing in Disguise by s0mmerspr0ssen, 20k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/42762729 summary: After Camelot is almost lost to Agravaine and Morgana, Merlin is about ready to reveal his magic to Arthur. But when he finds out Gwen is pregnant, Merlin’s priorities shift. Soon, he is focused on keeping little Prince Amhar safe from harm, no matter what. Merlin sets out to invoke a blessing on Arthur’s son, hoping to keep evil forces at bay, but things quickly spiral out of control…

⚬ Confirmations by DollopheadedMerlin, 12k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/46113418 summary: Merlin feels overburdened and under the weather, but he doesn't want to add stress to Arthur's efforts in revitalizing his kingdom after recovering the throne from Morgana, so he tries not to take it personally when Arthur gives him a hard time. But when reports tell of a dragon within Camelot's borders and Merlin gets dragged along on a mission against his nature, the king only seems to double down on his mistreatment of his servant, making protecting the royal clotpole a lot more difficult as he fights off an untreated fever.

⚬ Let Me Die, Let Me Drown, Lay My Bones In The Ground by quotidian_void, 40k, rated M https://archiveofourown.org/works/56036113 summary: The storm that had passed through Albion didn't only bring devastation to Camelot.It also brought a party belonging to the king, queen and princess of a distant land on the edge of Albion's maps. As per propriety and courtesy, the king of Camelot was required to hold a feast and provide accommodation for them. The feast started off smoothly, the royals of Camelot getting along quite well with the royals from Harden.But a single questioned changed everything. Including the destiny and future of Arthur and Merlin.

⚬ The Magic In Your Blood by Aimael, 68k, rated M https://archiveofourown.org/works/24527002 summary: "Arthur had to wonder, whether he should not feel something, anything at all, that would hint at him being controlled by Merlin. Even as he tried, he still felt nothing." Merlin is heard saying things that he shouldn't have said, and Uther is determined to do whatever it takes to free Arthur from the sorcerer's influence - which might be more difficult than expected.

⚬ Refined by Fire by wryter501, 155k, rated T https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11306307/1/Refined-by-Fire summary: It began, as any shift in destiny did, with a choice - run and hide, or stay and fight. And because Merlin chose to stand still, his destiny and Arthur's - and others' - took a sharp right turn. Discovered by the knights, arrested by Arthur, Merlin faces Uther's questioner and judgment... Gold is, after all, refined in the flames... Mid-season 3 in-canon reveal.

⚬ Learning Curve by VikingSong, 14k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/52184794 summary: Arthur and Merlin each face steep learning curves when Arthur experiences an unexpected language immersion. Miscommunications abound, things are lost in translation, and—unsurprisingly—chaos ensues in the court of Camelot. When painful secrets come to light and the definition of loyalty is called into question, Arthur and Merlin must work past linguistic and interpersonal barriers to reach an understanding. Or: In which Arthur speaks the language of the Old Religion, Merlin pulls research all-nighters, and the council members discover they don’t remember nearly as much Latin as they thought they did.

⚬ Rend and Rebuild by PeaceHeather, 100k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866667 summary: One wrong move in the heat of battle changes everything. Merlin is a sorcerer, and Arthur has stabbed him.

⚬ New Beginnings by nsowlwrites97, 33k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/31863937 summary: The words seemed to lose their meaning the more Arthur tried to make sense of them, bleeding in and through each other like ink dissolving in water. The only fact he knew to be true – absolutely, permanently, irrevocably true – was that Merlin was dead.

⚬ Beauty in the Ashes of Our Lives by Fulgance, 20k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/934780 summary: After Merlin is executed for Uther's murder, Arthur's world falls apart.

⚬ Atlas by ParadiseAvenger, 10k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/34723003 summary: In pursuit of a sorcerer, Arthur and his knights stumbled into a cave. As the ceiling collapsed on them, Merlin had no choice except to reveal his magic or let all his friends die. That choice was not a choice at all.As Merlin's magic began to run out and tensions with the knights run high, it seemed he might have made the wrong choice after all.

⚬ Is this resolve? By kyrakaryanne, 1k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/47559634 summary: Arthur could kill Merlin, for this. Not because the law would justify it, but because Merlin would never stop him.

⚬ Help Thou Our Host by signy1, 22k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/53393428 summary: One way the battle of Camlann could have gone. On the night before the battle, Merlin only has one request for Gwaine." When I'm dead, I want you to remember me for who I was, rather than what I was. If you can."

⚬ Whatcha Say by darkbluedark, 3k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/46337155 summary: The roof caves in and the truth comes out.

⚬ The Goose, the Bad, and the Ugly by sinivalkoista, 3k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/38503747 summary: Arthur is turned into a goose, and Merlin tries to catch him and turn him human again before Camelot is destroyed.

⚬ Whispering Your Name by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle, 22k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874179 summary: The Dorocha. They are the voices of the dead, my child. And, like the dead, they are numberless. Or: A different take of the dorocha. Instead of them being faceless screams that attack you, they are actually figures of the dead. Merlin doesn't quite realize how much death affected him until him and the knights go to close the veil. ⚬ Because It Was by Gingeraffelene, 4k, rated K+ https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13607047/1/Because-It-Was summary: Arthur reacts badly to Merlin's revelation and quickly regrets it, but not quick enough. How does one find an all powerful warlock who doesn't believe he deserves to be found?

[komorim]

something more

-> naoya x f!reader (kamo!reader)

[ synopsis. ] naoya had a reputation for being misogynistic, and he certainly didn’t believe that he would ever fall in love with the disgusting creatures called women. the only one worthy of his attention was the strongest female sorcerer, a woman who was nearing in skill to gojo satoru himself. yet the attention doesn’t mean he would treat you any better. but he wished he did.

[ content warnings. ] manga spoilers. misogyny. kidnapping. heavy angst. character death. mentions of child abuse. mentions of suicide. mentions of murder. mentions of attempted murder. mentions of torture. mentions of inhumane experiments. mentions of disability. allusions to sex. miscarriage. description of gore. reader is underweight. reader is older than naoya. belated love epiphany. more pain, possibly more than the suna one :)

[ word count. ] 3.7k

[ author’s note. ] wow. this story went from the original 10+ chapter fanfic to a 3 chapter fanfic to a one shot. after so many trial and errors, i finally decided to make this a one shot, even if that means i’ll have to cut some major plot points. the reason being that this story was developed a bit over a year ago, and i’m honestly starting to lose interest in finishing this as a series. well, here it is!

[ previously named: a cracked shell ]

“i’m home,” naoya says as he slides open the door to your shared room. yet he doesn’t find you in there. he’s confused to say the least. even though you had a small fit with him the other day, it wasn’t nothing serious. you would always pretend as if nothing had happened. you were just like that. you didn’t like conflict, so in order to avoid it, you became somewhat of a pushover when it comes to most things.

your boundaries are set very low, and they continue to lower with every violation of them. it was one of the reasons you and naoya could coexist. he wished for an obedient little wife, and although you weren’t obedient per se, your character in its nature was close enough.

you never acted out of line as you were clear of the troublesome headache it would bring you. and naoya was okay with that.

it would be an understatement to say that his expectations for his wife also lowered. the original idea in his mind was that he would marry a docile, mindless woman who would do everything he asked of her without question. and you don’t fit that description. but he’s okay with you.

you, who is a sorcerer strong enough to rival geto and gojo.

it wasn’t a secret that naoya had always admired the strong. and even if it’s a woman, he’ll show some degree of respect to them as long as they’re stronger or on par with himself.

which is why he’s so lenient with you.

he remembers how miserable you looked when he first met you at the kamo estate when he was eight and you were nine.

the only reason he appeared at the kamo estate was that he heard of a secret kamo child that had been recently escorted back to the estate. though he wasn’t the type to come for solely this minor, insignificant purpose. no, he came since he heard the rumors of what you were.

not only had you inherited the kamo technique of blood manipulation, you also had an immense amount of cursed energy within you. though what made you the most special of all was the essence of your cursed energy.

a cursed energy with scent.

and not only did your cursed energy have a scent to it, the scent was odd. it had the ability to put people in a drunken state upon breathing in the fragrance too much. it was truly odd. something like this had never been seen. it was probably why the kamos were so hell-bent on bringing you back to the estate to recognize you as one of their own.

nine year old you was very similar to how you are like now. quiet, appearing to be uninterested in almost everything, and eerie. almost twenty years later of knowing you, he could never pinpoint exactly what it was, but you always seemed off. it was an eerie aspect that made others uncomfortable in your presence. maybe it was a dominating attribute that came with being that strong.

yet what he didn’t understand was why you always looked so miserable. you were so strong that you could destroy a city and possibly more if you wished. but you were never happy. eight year old naoya thought that if he was that gifted, he’d never have a bad day in his life. maybe it’s because you were born a girl that you are unable to be happy. after all, the elders always spoke of how unlucky it is to be a girl.

that was the first time he met you. only being able to get a glance of your face in a open room. the next time he saw you was at the goodwill event. you appeared to be the same as before. you didn’t speak much, you still looked miserable and unbothered, and you still had that eerie feeling about you.

around this time, naoya had been raised by the zenins’ misogynistic ideals for so long that he has also adopted them himself. and even if he knew that your current abilities can rival even the two most powerful jujutsu sorcerers, you were just a woman. you were born with the right, immense power, but the wrong gender. you were bound to one day become someone’s wife one day, confined to the chains of marriage and the duties of a woman.

your talent and power will succumb to nothing. it’ll all be useless.

maybe that’s when he first started hating you. he envied you for having the power he could not. his eyes grew red at the thought that a woman had received the main inherited jujutsu technique of the kamo clan when he himself only inherited a sub technique of the zenin. he feels frustrated that you have all this power and he’ll never be able to see its full potential since you’re a woman that’s destined to be in a house and nowhere else.

maybe that’s why he was desperate to hunt you down during the goodwill event. he was desperate to prove himself better. he couldn’t stand being weak compared to someone who’s power will become useless one day anyways.

but he lost. zenin naoya had lost. it was humiliating really; the way you barely looked at him as you successfully constrained him, proceeding to leave without a care in the world.

he had felt a new kind of sensation that day. a strong urge to see what kind of faces you can make other than that miserable, unbothered expression.

so when he found out from his father later on that you’ve been engaged to him, he found it perfect. he’ll have the rest of eternity to make you say something, feel something more than hopelessness. you could tell that his preference for said feeling would be suffering, but it’s not like he ever succeeded, so you didn’t pay his unwell intentions much thought anyways.

it was at this point when he finally found out why you always looked miserable. after all, the least he could do as your fiancé was get to know you, albeit you didn’t want him to.

when he heard about your life so far, he laughed a bit. you’re so strong and yet you couldn’t prevent any of the tragic events in your life. the elders were right. a woman like you was destined to live out an unlucky life. but maybe yours was a bit too unfair, even by naoya’s opinion.

secret child born to loving parents, you had been raised without the kamos’ knowledge. at the age of nine, shortly before naoya first met you, an escort had appeared at the peaceful apartment you lived at and supposedly murdered your father. your mother fell into hysteria and blamed your existence for the death of her only love. she looked at you with hatred, with the intent to kill her only child. and when she regained some sense of logic, she would hold you closely and cry. he bets that this on and off behavior you endured also dried you up emotionally. and apparently your mother too, for she committed suicide in her room less than a year later.

before doing so, she didn’t forget to smash a rock onto your head. either trying to take you with her or trying to enact some revenge for the love of her life he doesn’t know. but what he does know is that the damage caused absolutely destroyed your right ear.

irreparable loss of hearing.

however unlikely, it was probably the hearing of your tragic childhood that made naoya show you a bit of kindness after the marriage. he showed some form of respect for you, the one who survived such a past and also you, the one stronger than himself.

you had also noticed this. how he wasn’t exactly like how the rumors depicted him. but you paid no mind, as he still treated you as lesser than. it was to be expected. and although the younger you would scowl at the disrespect shown by someone younger than you, the current you couldn’t care less.

you were only a wife to naoya for one reason. to escape being assigned as the next clan leader.

you could never take that position. not when you saw how the kamo clan had crushed your family. not when you saw how noritoshi hated you for receiving the attention of the elders. you knew about the boy. his mother being a mistress made his standing in the clan awkward. and you knew how much he needed to be the next clan leader in order to reunite with his mother.

so you allowed him to take the position of heir. you declined as your uncle, the clan leader, tried several times to make you the heir. you knew why he treated the two of you so differently. one was the only child of his only little sister, the last blood relation to her on this world, and the other was simply a mistress’s son, albeit his own.

but you couldn’t destroy a family the way he destroyed yours. you didn’t want to watch as noritoshi falls into despair like you. so even when your uncle pressured you with the choice or either marriage or heir, you confidently chose to be married off.

and what a choice it was.

from day one of being zenin y/n, you already disliked the atmosphere of the zenin household. but alas, it was the place where you would be living for probably the rest of your life.

and when the year passed by and you still had no sign of child, the zenin naobito had attempted to have you divorced.

least to say naoya was furious when he heard. why? because he finally had the second strongest sorcerer chained to his side. how was he supposed to just willingly give you up? but he and yourself both know what the cause for your lack of child was.

the fact that naoya refused to touch you.

it’s not like you minded. you had no emotions for your husband; you couldn’t care less if he had someone pleasuring him outside. in fact, you’d probably be better off if he did.

but that wasn’t the reason naoya didn’t want to lay a finger on you. suprisingly, he had more than just one single reason.

one of which was that he still didn’t want to be so intimate with such a lowly creature, a woman. but he needed an heir and he knew this well. actually, it would be best to have his heir be birthed by you. the possibility of your child inheriting some of your incredibly unnecessary cursed energy, or better yet, inheriting your unique scent would be splendid.

but the most important reason was that your body most likely couldn’t handle it. not to mention the mental toll that your past and even the duration you were a sorcerer had on you, you had a more concerning issue. you turned sickly after overexerting yourself during the time at jujutsu high. and although he shouldn’t care so much for a mere woman’s life, he knew that you were different, and he couldn’t afford to lose such a valuable asset like yourself.

he’s seen how pregnancy does a woman over, and as much as no one would believe it, he doesn’t want that to happen to you. either for his own selfish reasons, or for the reason he dreads, the reality was that he was contempt with not having an heir in the mean time.

so divorcing you? absolutely out of the question.

if his father used not having any emotional attachment as an excuse to tear you away from him, he would create that emotional attachment. fake or not, he won’t have anyone thinking of making him divorce you.

so he pushed himself. he pushed himself to treat you as a decent human being, and pushed himself to buy gifts for you when he’s out, going out of his comfort zone to try and pleasure you.

he allowed you and gojo to continue writing letters to each other. although he’s still sick to the stomach knowing his wife is conversing with another man, he knows that ever since you had been more in touch with your childhood friend, your mood became better.

and finally, on your second year of being married to naoya, he was finally able to see a genuine smile grace upon your lips.

it was the wish he had when him and you were still engaged and not yet married. the wish that you could display an expression different than that of your normal, unbothered one.

and it was beautiful.

he knew you were a looker since the day he first met you. and maybe that’s a subconscious reason why he always wished you could show some more emotion. but seeing your actual smile was so much different. it’s almost as if he’s been blind all his life and finally saw light.

and as much as he wants to deny it, maybe he did have a growing place in his heart for you.

so why are you now missing when things were just starting to get better? it wasn’t long after when he first shared a kiss with you and the two of you started acting more like a married couple, and now you’re nowhere to be seen?

naoya first reached out to gojo within two hours of you not being home, and when the white haired man responded with he didn’t know where you were either, naoya almost lost his mind.

she’ll be okay, he thinks to himself. but another voice in his head reminds him of how you’re not in a state to fight. weirdly your physical state has deteriorated the past few days, and you turned into a even more sickly condition.

it isn’t until the next day when he confirms with hayashi, your personal servant, that you haven’t returned during the night does he really lose it.

weird too. hayashi was saved by you as a child, and follows you around ever since to repay you. he’d never leave your side, so why is he still in the estate and you’re not?

hayashi responds to the question with how you were invited out by a letter, and he wasn’t able to see the sender.

it was a dead end.

quite a few months pass by before naoya finally hears about you. by this time, naoya has thinned down quite a bit and also looked abnormally pale. probably from the lack of sleep or the lost of appetite. or both.

and what he heard from gojo made sick to the stomach, so much that he wished to throw up even though his stomach was empty.

you were found.

the bad news? you were found bloodied and very much dead. you were found rotting.

and although gojo was wearing sunglasses that covered his eyes, anyone could tell the way this affected him through the crack in his voice as he struggles to continue on. after all, he already lost a best friend, and now he had just lost his childhood friend; he lost the one that he swore to protect since your parents failed to do so.

not much information was exchanged after the initial news was delivered, for it pained gojo too much to describe the horrendous scene in which you were found in. but he did take naoya to the scene shortly after he delivered one last piece of news that was sure to shatter naoya.

you were pregnant.

naoya wasn’t all that surprised. in the last few months in which you were missing, he thought of you a lot. how you looked paler, sicklier than usual. how you were more sensitive than usual.

and because of his guess, he had treated you much better than before. he knew how you used to get suspended from jujutsu high for being overly cruel when some curse user would overstep your boundaries. and although your sharp edges dulled over the years, he was still afraid you’d have even a sliver of thought to abort it. and he couldn’t let that happen.

but you probably didn’t know yourself.

“we’re here,” gojo announces.

he bids naoya well before waiting outside the warehouse. he already saw it once, and he couldn’t bear to see it again.

naoya braces himself before slowly walking inside. the interior of the warehouse seemed very normal. it looked like a warehouse for scientific research. there were lab tables, and giant fluid cases. the only thing out of the ordinary he noticed was how dirty everything was. there were many blood stains, but he convinced himself that it was too rusty and old to be yours.

as he walks further, that was when he saw it. the small hidden door in the far back. the door was unnecessarily heavy, seeming to made out of hard iron.

even if it was his first time being here, even if he can’t see what’s beyond the door, he knows what’s about to appear before his eyes.

and he dreads it.

but he still pushes open the door that has already been forced open once. it was easy, seeing how the lock had been destroyed completely. but what wasn’t easy was the capacity to handle everything that he saw.

cruel tools that his imagination can help show him what their uses were. red colored stains on the floor and counters. pieces of meat each around the size of a finger littered around the damp and suffocating room.

syringes. tubes of medicine. medical equipment. chains and shackles. bandages, both used and new. disposed pieces of surgeon uniforms, all covered in blood and a weirdly colored substance.

it didn’t take a psychic to know what had happened here. it didn’t take an actor to imagine the performance that undergone here.

the performance of torture. the act of experimenting on a living human being.

naoya’s trembling although he doesn’t notice it. he comprehends the emotions inside him bubbling as anger that someone had dared to lay their hands on what was his. but the truth was that this unfamiliar feeling he had was despair. something his pitiful wife was familiar with, but something he had only now acquainted.

despair over the fact that all this equipment was used on you and despair over the fact that when you were in pain and suffering, he couldn’t do anything about it.

he slowly walks over to the small bed in the corner of the room. he noticed the blood stains on the sheets and the shackles on the headboard and footboard. most of all, he noticed he noticed the small shard piece covered in blood. he knew why it was covered in blood although no one told him.

it was probably what you had used to end your life.

he stares at it with a blank face, and he eventually reached out to grab it, grief and frustration causing him to clench the shard so hard he sees red. but it doesn’t hurt.

it’s nothing compared to the atrocities you endured.

you were missing for months. he had been informed that your death report showed that you had only died a few days ago. to imagine that you had to suffer from these cruelties for months; the only thing in his mind was how strong you were.

he turns around to walk back out. to see you again. he deemed that it was worthless to stay here any longer.

as he was leaving the room that housed your pain, he saw it. the thick notebook filled with notes and scribbles of the things done to you.

from cutting away pieces of you to examine your genetic makeup, to attempting to force the day of labor so they could research his child; every word written was horrendous.

the contents journaling the day it was discovered that you were pregnant were drastically different than before.

at first it was just terrifying experiments performed on you to determine why you had an intoxicating scent to your cursed energy, but then when they couldn’t find anything out, they wanted to try to copy the trait completely. through what? the child you were harboring.

as naoya flipped through more and more pages, he saw how they took their research further and further. and as things failed again and again, their methods only became more inhumane.

when he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he threw the notebook behind him harshly, hearing a violent thump shortly after. he met up with gojo outside the warehouse and notices how his eyes were somewhat red.

when he brought naoya to your body, that was when both men couldn’t take it anymore.

your originally sickly features looked even worse. you had grown paler and you looked like you had starved for every day you were missing. all that was left of you was skin and bones. there were bruises on your skin, littering almost everywhere the eye can see. the ones on your wrists and ankles naoya knew were from the shackles confining you, and the others on your body seemed to be wounds still unable to fully heal.

you, who hated becoming dirty, lay there with dried blood and dirt on your body. your skin had turned gray and you felt colder than ice. yet naoya still held your hand, trying to warm it up like he had done so before.

but he knew it was fruitless. you couldn’t possess body warmth anymore, and you had no need for it either.

but as he holds your hand with both of his own, what he doesn’t know—what haunts his mind—is the question of did you wish for him to come to your rescue when you had passed day by day and week by week in that tiny little room.

were you disappointed as days passed and he still hadn’t come?

or did you think he wouldn’t come? did you doubt his love for you and think he wouldn’t care if you were there by his side or not? did you think you were replaceable?

but the fact is that you weren’t. albeit how badly he showed it, he knew he couldn’t lose you.

he smiles bitterly as he pressed his lips to your cold forehead and thinks. maybe the possessiveness he held for you had a different meaning. he realizes that even if he denied to everyone that he didn’t love you, maybe he did.

but it’s too late now. he only knew now. he’s only now understood what it was that he felt when you left. you probably also never knew.

after all, you left without giving him a chance to tell you.

do not copy or repost my works. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

[ashensgrotto]

Poor Unfortunate Souls (Part 1)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto x Reader

Word Count: 7,398

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3a (You are Here) Part 3b

Per request from @twistedcece and @mermaidfan76 , I finished the third part to my Yandere Soulmate AU - yes, I have officially given it a name now. I think I might do a piece per each of the books in Twst - but I haven’t made any solid decisions yet.

Also - due to this being the third part, hence Octavinelle’s chapter in the game, this next part is going to be divided into two parts. The main reason is because there is a bit that happens and I want to make sure that I take my time with writing everything out for it, never mind that I am covering two overblots - Leona’s and Azul’s - in this section. I am also planning on revisiting part 2 and fixing that up a bit more - and I’ll post an update when that happens.

Now, fair warning, although this is likely not going to be graphic, it does show more of the possessive/obsessive behaviors that yandere characters are known for as well as the underlying threatening behaviors they can exhibit as well. I do not agree with these behaviors that are as follows, but I’m covering my basics.

Every single day

And every word you say

Every game you play

Every night you stay

I’ll be watching you

***

Eyes of pale blue watched from the shadows of the infirmary as their owner kept their gaze fixed on the form of (Y/N). Normally, your delectable skin was smooth and soft - without a flaw in sight; now, bruises and cuts covered every inch of your form - though the blood had been cleaned away and your body had been covered by bandages and medication. You were still healing from the attack by the three Savanaclaw students, but several more injuries had been imprinted upon you.

Another overblot, another battle… another loss.

Leona’s power-hungry drive to prove that Malleus Draconia wasn’t invincible during the spelldrive tournament had back-fired horribly. The students of Heartslabyul as well as the vice-warden of Diasomia and a freshman of Savanaclaw had snuffed out the headwarden's plot before it could take root - halting it before any serious damage could be done. With the plan foiled and the dorm now turning on him, Leona's anger and jealousy had begun to overtake him. 

Azul and several other dorm leaders and their students had looked on as the air became dry, making it difficult to breathe. A creature that took on the monstrous form of a lion had come after all of them - all done with Leona’s powerful magic. It was lucky that Deuce, Ace, Trey, and Cater had been there - as well as Riddle. The five had experienced an overblot before and were the ones that would try to hold Leona back - to snap him out of it. The fool girl that you were, the one that Azul was head over heels in love with, raced from the safe confines of the colosseum, the octomer shouting after you, telling you to stay by his side - it was too dangerous.

You ignored Azul’s cries as you raced to the front lines, your (h/c) blowing in the wind as your eyes squinted against the onslaught of sand that had taken to the skies. As you had done with Riddle, while Leona was distracted, you slapped the headwarden of Savanaclaw across the face. Leona had turned his attention to you as you shouted at him - claiming that you understood what it was like to be "second best," how no matter how hard you tried there was always going to be someone better than you. All watched as the magicless guest of Octavinelle stared hard into the overbloted student's eyes, the eyes of a corrupted prince.

"I feel your pain, I feel your sorrow," you simply said, "and you have forgotten yourself, Leona - you have to remember who your friends are and what it is you fight for. You are more than what you have become. Please - remember who you were, who you will be… who you are."

Azul's eyes widened as the sound of shattering glass echoed across the playing field, Leona slumping forward as the dark creature behind him faded into dust. You, as difficult as it was due to your previous injuries, knelt on the ground beside Leona as the members of Savanaclaw came forward to help the headwarden to his feet - all traces of his blot completely gone. 

Everything had been a haze for Azul following that. He couldn't believe you - his soulmate, keeper of his heart - had deliberately disobeyed him. He told you that the world of Twisted Wonderland was far too dangerous for someone like you, and yet you continuously put yourself in harm's way. What would happen if you got yourself killed? Injuries could heal and scars would remain, but if an overblot happened again and wouldn't reason with you like Riddle and Leona had done? Azul wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you - he would go mad without you.

Something had to be done.

Azul shifted in his chair before he felt the presence of two others. He looked to see a twin set of heterochromia eyes glowing in the dark.

"Jade. Floyd."

The twins appeared beside Azul, Jade on his right, Floyd on his left.

"I assume you've brought what I requested."

"Indeed, several poor unfortunate souls are in dire need of assistance with this year's exams coming up," the older of the two smiled.

"And you might like specifically who signed up for a meeting with you," the other snickered, his sharp teeth baring in the darkness.

Azul took the paperwork from Floyd and shifted through it, one brow arching as he read off the names in his head… only stopping on three names in particular.

"Hehe… it would seem that (Y/N)'s closest friends have their own dirty little secrets," Azul smiled, handing the paperwork back to Floyd, "Excellent work, you two. With this knowledge, I might be able to actually give her a reason to despise them - they won't tell her about our little arrangement anyways, thinking they'll be able to beat my game. How many students have signed up so far?"

"A little over two hundred - all houses and ranges of classes," Jade answered.

"Perfect, continue bringing them in," Azul answered, "I want the headmage to get the message that it's us who run the school, not him - the poor fool. And I have the perfect idea in mind on how to persuade him."

The twins grinned in agreement, Jade asking, "And what of your little mermaid princess?"

"I'll handle her - poor dear will be distraught, but it will work in my favor," Azul smiled wickedly, "Oh, and make sure to keep her in the dark if she asks about this - the other members of the dorm know not to get involved in our affairs; especially after how I took care of the last headwarden."

The tweels needed no further explanation as they nodded, bowed, and disappeared into the darkness again to fulfill Azul’s orders.

Azul stood and walked to your bedside, resting a gloved hand on top of yours, reaching down to kiss your forehead, "Please forgive me - but what I am going to do is only for your own good."

***

You tucked a tray under your arm as you finished gathering the last of the dishes before heading out to the lounge area.

Today seemed awfully quiet with only a few students of the dorm working today - however, there were talks about new staff members joining that had been floating around, peaking your interest. You also noticed how in the next few weeks, your schedule to work in the lounge had decreased even further - making you wonder how you were ever going to pay for the rent in the dorm, which was not cheap. You had some pay still saved up, but you still needed to eat and launder your borrowed clothing, which was also expensive. You looked up, and saw Azul standing with Jade and Floyd on the steps that lead to the entrance of the Mostro Lounge - perhaps you could discuss the issue with them.

You head over as Azul’s gaze shifts from the twins to you, his signature smile greeting you, “(Y/N). How is everything going? You look much better than a few weeks ago.”

“Thanks to your help and consistent assistance,” you smile with a nod of thanks.

“Of course, my dear,” Azul smiled as he approached, resting a hand on your shoulder, “The headmage entrusted me with your safety, after all… until I can find a way home for you of course.”

“Speaking of which,” you say, “have you found a way? It’s been about a month and a half, almost two, since I came here.”

“I’m afraid you have to give me time, angelfish,” Azul answered, “You can’t get something for nothing, you know.”

You nod in understanding, “And, I wanted to ask - my hours at the lounge have been greatly reduced and I was wondering why.”

The twins grinned wickedly, making you shiver a bit at their smiles as Azul came around you, his arm holding you close to his side as the long overcoat of his dorm uniform draped around the two of you, “Why, angelfish - it’s primarily because we’re adding a few new faces to the family, of course! A few boys owe me for using a specialty study guide I created for them that guaranteed a passing grade for the exams that took place earlier this week.”

“It’s that… cheating?” you asked.

“It’s a fine gray area,” Azul answered, “The questions on the exams have been the same for decades - a few minor changes here and there, but nothing worth losing a night of sleep over. I get the answers in a legitimate way and create the guides for students to use at their discretion. In order to get those guides, however, they have to be willing to pay the price if they fail to meet my expectations.”

“Which is what?”

Azul smiled, raising his cane with the pale lavender colored magestone within, “Well, those that fail to make it into the top fifty, of course! But, let me give you an idea of how many and who exactly would take the bait and wriggle like worms on hooks.”

The magestone began to glow and soon you heard shouting and scraping noises out in the hall before bodies of students were pulled into the entryway of the lounge before yourself, Azul, and the twins. There were roughly two hundred, if not more; over half of them were freshmen in the dorms of Savanaclaw, Scarabia, and Ignihyde while several others bore the crests of Pompfiore, Heartslabyul, and Diasomia, several others you recognized as sophomores like Azul, Jade, and Floyd, and there was only a handful of juniors among the crowd. On each student’s head was a sea anemone - teal at the base and purple on the top that waved and wiggled as if being controlled, and very likely was by Azul’s magestone. Several of the students began shouting and arguing, only stopping with a snap of Azul’s fingers, which caused the sea anemones to knock everyone’s heads together.

“Well, well, what have we here? A band of misfortune souls who failed to break into the top fifty?” Azul smirked, “Welcome to Mostro Lounge. I’m sure you’re all WELL aware of who I am, but let’s go over it anyway. My name is Azul Ashengrotto - I am the housewarden of Octavinelle dorm, the manager of the Mostro Lounge cafe, and, as of today… you have to listen to everything I say.”

“You each made a bet with me and lost,” Azul continued, “As per the terms of our contract, you are to devote yourselves to my service until such a time you graduate.”

“Hold it! This is all a huge scam!” a familiar voice called out.

“Ace?!” you asked, eyes widening, “What are you doing here?!”

 “Ace Trappola,” Azul narrowed his eyes on the red head, "a freshman, if memory serves correctly, and a friend of (Y/N). Your accusations are insulting, quite frankly. I upheld my end of the bargain and provided you with a flawless study guide for your exams. If you had used them properly, you should have scored at least a ninety."

"Yeah, I did," Ace growled, "I got a ninety-two. But you never told me you'd given the same study guides to this many people!"

"Ace is right!" Deuce’s voice called out from the crowd as voices murmured amongst each other, "No study guide could help us break into the top fifty with the deck this stacked!"

"When everyone scorin' over ninety, even with my eighty-five, my spot in the rankings is no different than when I was failin'!" Grim groaned.

"Have you boys never heard of client confidentiality?" Azul asked, crossing his arms over his chest, "All of you fools - I mean, gentlemen - all had your own reasons for seeking out my help. Details who made a contract with me, what kind of contract it was, and why it was made… Well, that's privileged data. Who am I to divulge someone's personal information to a third party? I am a man of integrity, thank you very much."

"Azul, please reconsider," you whispered softly, "These are student's lives you're playing with. They had to pay you for the contract, why do they have to suffer the consequences for failing to meet your end of the deal when they had no idea how difficult it actually would be?"

"My dear sweet child," Azul looked down at you, speaking in a condescending tone that you did not recognize at all, "All of these poor unfortunate souls had their chance to make it into the top fifty for their classes. They failed and failed miserably. Some were close, I have to give credit where credit is due after all, but they missed the mark by a mile."

"Azul, please," you say again, "Please let them go."

Azul's eyes sparkled then as a smile spread across his face, his teeth becoming bare as well as his gums - looking more like a predator by the minute.

"Well, I always was a man with an eye for a bargain," Azul answered, "After all, you would do anything for your three friends here, if I am correct?"

You shift your gaze from Azul to Ace, Deuce, and Grim as the crowd looks on, each of the students holding their breath in anticipation. You looked back at your employer and nodded.

Azul shook his head, clicking his tongue before turning toward Jade and Floyd, "Get our newest recruits working - we have a full night ahead of us. In the meantime," he wrapped his arm around you, "I have some business to discuss."

***

You perched on the sofa in Azul’s office as the headwarden pulled one of his golden contracts out of the vault, holding it up for you to inspect. 

"(Y/N), this is the initial contract that you signed with me when you began," Azul spoke, handing the contract for you to inspect, "Per the terms your agreement, I will allow you to work and live within Octavinelle until such a time comes that I find a way for you to return home. Your payment to me, as you have nothing to give, would be any pay you earned within the lounge - I have allowed you to keep any tips left behind and some of the paychecks due to your want for independence. Now, that display you showed for those fools in the lounge has made me… want to reconsider my actions."

You look up from the contract, still begging, "I said I would do anything if you would release them."

"And I will accept that, however," Azul's face turned dark as a wicked smile spread across his face, "would you be willing to accept the price and the deal I have in mind?"

He pulled out another contract, this one blank, and as he spoke, his words spread on the page as if he were writing them himself.

"The deal I have for you is simple: in exchange for the freedom of all of those who signed my contracts for the study guides this term - including the names of Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, and Grim - you, (Y/N) (L/N), will belong solely to me. Your body, your mind… your everything. You will remain by my side until the end of your natural born life."

You look up at him, your eyes widening in realization, "Azul - this is a marriage contract."

"I would prefer 'engagement', but marriage also works," Azul answered.

"Azul! That's not fair!"

"You're right, it isn't," Azul set the contract down on the table and knelt before you, grasping your hands in his, holding them tightly, "It's not fair for me to give up two hundred souls who signed away knowing what the repercussions would be if they failed my bet. However, I'm willing to do it for you, (Y/N). I would do anything for you. And do you know why?"

When you shake your head in a negative, Azul smiles at you fondly, "It's because I love you, (Y/N). I have searched my whole life for you - looking in every corner of Twisted Wonderland to find you. And when you appeared in the mirror chamber, lost and distressed, I wanted nothing more than to hold you close and I vowed then and there I would do everything in my power to keep you safe. You are… my soulmate. My match."

"Azul, we're… that's crazy!"

"You might think so now, but in time you'll understand, I promise," Azul kept his grip tight on your hands as he stroked your hair away from your face, "Now, about that contract -"

"Forget it. I won't do it."

"But your friends, (Y/N)? You said you would do anything for them. Was that a lie?"

"N-No, but…"

"Well, then, since we seem to be in agreement…" Azul placed the contract before you, spinning his cane around before it transformed into his fishbone pen and offered it to you, "Take a gulp, take a breath, go ahead and sign the scroll."

You hesitantly took the pen and closed your eyes as your name was spread across the dotted line.

As soon as your name was completed, Azul snatched the contract up and smiled, "It's a Deal!"

A glow came from the contract before the light enveloped you yourself, a bubble appearing around you and sealing you off from the world. You slammed your fists against it, shouting at Azul to release you.

"Payment for the deal is needed, angelfish," Azul smiled, "Like I said before - you can't get something for nothing. So, I'm going to take something so trivial you will never even miss it… your legs."

You stop for a moment, fear running through you like a cold shower as you whisper, "My legs?"

"You got it, sweet cheeks," Azul smiled, turning his attention toward you, "I need to keep you nearby at all times - and the thing that separates us is, well, human features. I am by no means human - some have called me a monster because of what I truly am. I was born in the sea, live in the sea… and you will too."

***

Three days had passed by since you had signed on the dotted line… three days since Azul made the announcement that the new recruits were free to leave - all thanks to a selfless individual who would not be named… three days since he took your freedom from you. You hadn’t shown your face to the school nor in the lounge during that time - not that you could - but everyone seemed to get a sense there was something else that now lurked in the large aquariums of the Octavinelle dorm. 

Not that you could blame the guests for being suspicious.

As soon as Azul had told you you would live under the sea, your legs had been swapped out for an ornate fishtail - pale sea green in color with scales of emerald speckled here and there. He kept you confined in the large aquarium that had spread throughout the dorm like a maze, the most open area in the Mostro Lounge. Azul requested that you stay out of sight from the other students, only coming when he called for you - which was often in the evening after everyone had left. When Azul wasn’t around, you were free to do as you wish - which often was raging at him or curled into yourself to try and comfort your poor broken soul. 

You had placed your trust into someone that should never have been trusted in the first place - and you had no one to blame but yourself.

“Well, I guess your herbivores weren’t kidding when they said they suspected something happened to our guest.”

You whipped your head around to see Leona and Riddle looking at you from behind the glass of the large aquarium.

“T-this… THIS IS INHUMANE!!” Riddle looked like he was about to blow a gasket again.

“Riddle? Leona?” you asked, coming forward and resting your hands against the glass, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ll ask the questions,” Riddle shouted, “What in the sevens’ names are you doing in there?!”

“Keep your voice lowered!” you hush, “If he finds out you saw me…”

 “Who?” Leona asked.

You look down, biting your lip.

Leona crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, “I see.”

“What? What is it? Who did this to her?” Riddle asked, “I’ll have their head!”

“Riddle, you’re too quick to jump to conclusions,” Leona turned his attention back to you, “I am assuming this has something to do when several of my dorm members were pulled into Octavinelle a few days ago - as well as some of members from the other dorms, mainly those three idiots you hang around with.”

“What? Deuce and Ace were pulled in here? What for?” Riddle asked.

Leona looked between Riddle and you before explaining, “Deuce, Ace, and the little demon came to me, asking for my help - said that they made an issue and that our magicless guest was in trouble. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but now that I’m seeing it…”

“It’s true,” you answered.

Riddle was still a bit lost, “Who did this to her, Leona?”

“Azul.”

“What? Why?” Riddle asked.

“You humans wouldn’t understand what most of us beastmen, fae, and merfolk often experience as children,” Leona answered, “However, I believe I know the reason why. Azul believes that our magicless guest here is his soulmate.”

You and Riddle blinked a bit, “Soulmate?”

Leona nodded, “There are often rumors that spread around about the concept of soulmates - how there is one special soul that is unique to one individual. Everyone has a soulmate - whether they are family, friend, or romantic - but they are far and few in between, a rarity. Those of us who are lucky to even encounter our soulmate will often hold onto that person as if our life depends on it - and in this case, Azul is rather possessive of it.”

Your hands slide down the glass, “That’s why… that’s why he…”

Leona nodded, “And I also had a part in it, too, (Y/N). However, we don’t have time to discuss it. We need to figure out a way to fix this.”

“How?” Riddle asked, “It’s not like we can just… confront Azul about it - he’ll deny it, knowing the sneaky student that he is. Rule breaker…”

“I’m assuming he used his unique spell on this one.”

“Yes, ‘It’s a Deal,’” you answered.

Leona thought for a minute before nodding, “I have an idea - usually I’d ask for some sort of payment, but it seems I owe you twice for everything that has happened to you. Consider this a free of charge gift of mine.”

You blink, “What are you going to do?”

Leona smiled, his teeth bared, “I’m going to teach that cephalo-punk a lesson he’ll never forget.”

[videogamedogbracket]

Hello, and welcome to the Video Game Dog Bracket!

Do you like dogs? Do you like video games? Do you like dogs from video games? If yes, then this is the tournament for you! 

I’ve been wanting to host my own bracket for a while now - ever since I submitted a character to one of them a few months back, swore to myself I wouldn’t get invested in the results, but then ended up doing just that. Thanks a ton to @artificialkids-2k23-official, without whom this bracket wouldn’t exist!

The rules for submission are fairly straightforward, but I’ll list them here anyway. (Updated 6/3/23)

An obvious one, but all characters submitted must be dogs, wolves, or mythical creatures that are canine in nature (i.e. Cerberus or a dog-like Pokémon). Foxes are on thin ice. 

Anthropomorphic dogs are okay. However, please don't send in anime boys with dog ears or whatever. I think that's pushing the definition of "dog" a little too much.

Characters must have originated from a video game or visual novel. If they appear in a game, but it’s an adaptation of a movie, for example, they won’t be counted.  No, Homestuck doesn't count as a video game.

Named characters are preferred and will be given priority. I’m not saying that you can’t submit Granbull or every Nintendog, but in the case that there are more submissions than bracket spaces, they probably won’t make it in.

Please only submit one character at a time. The form is open to multiple responses per person, so you can submit as many characters as you like. (Just be reasonable with it and don’t send the same one over and over again?)

Also, while sending several characters from the same source material is appreciated, they aren't all going to make it into the bracket. I'm looking for a varied and diverse lineup, and want to limit it to about three characters per source. This isn't a hard and fast rule, but just...don't get upset if all twenty characters from the same thing don't get accepted, okay?

Currently, the plan is for submissions to close on June 9th, but this may be subject to change based on the amount of traction this bracket gets. As of right now, submissions are planned to close on June 5th instead!

Finally, here’s a quick list of characters that are automatically going to be entered into the bracket as per the “poll runner’s bias” clause. Please don't submit any of them, they're already participating!

Amaterasu (Okami)

Toby (The Great Ace Attorney)

Fondue (Rhythm Thief)

Gab (Zero Escape: Zero Time Dilemma)

Pepita (Trauma Center: New Blood)

Rex (Fossil Fighters)

Koromaru (Persona 3)

Missile (Ghost Trick)

That’s it for now. Thanks for submitting!

Obligatory inspiration tags for visibility: @funny-polls @mostredactedbracket @autisticgirliesbracket @fuckingstupidbracket @adhdxautismshiptournament @mfshipbracket @emoboybattle @goldenretrieverguybracket @purplegreenbracket @beefy-babe-showdown @unluckiest-character-ever @ot3showdown @justsomeguypoll @vs-coughing-baby @tokenhumantournament​ @jamesbracket​ @least-sexy-man-competition​ @baby-brawl-bracket​ @thing-fight​ 

[asbeel]

Beginning snippet of the destiel fic I started writing but I realised its too canon divergent so I stopped

A case had gone awry, as per usual, but the stakes have changed. It was meant to be a quick hunt, but a series of empty leads had strung the Winchester brothers and their guardian angel to become creative. Some research had revealed the attack patterns of the creature, which allowed the hunters to realise their new target is a pureblood werewolf. And so, the three reconvened in their motel-of-the-week to discuss their next course of actions.

“Makes sense.” Sam said, nodding in agreement. When all solutions had failed, it was Dean who proposed the idea. The plan was to use him as the worm on a hook, as he fit the profile for the werewolf's victims better than Sam had.

After years of hunting, the Winchester brothers had long desensitised to plans involving self endangerment. If Dean wanted to throw himself in front of a truck, nobody could stop him. “Simple, in-and-out.” Dean remarked, but he understood the possibilities.

“You lure it to a nearby forest—“

“Fake-out that son of a bitch.”

“Silver bullet to the heart.”

The two spoke almost recklessly. The brothers trust one another to stay alive, no matter the danger. Regardless, they never stay dead.

"No, that is a terrible idea." Castiel interjected. "We can not ensure your safety from afar... If you go along with this plan, I can not protect you."

As Dean looked down at Castiel where he sat at the bed, the angel looked at him in disbelief. For one fleeting moment, he feels the invisible handprints from that night.

"You don't get a say in this, Cas." Dean snapped, the sharp words rolling off his tongue. "Not after you got yourself willingly possessed by the fuckin' devil."

"It was a necessary loss—"

"My ass!" To any bystander, Dean was angry. But truthfully, a part of him felt betrayed. "What were you gonna do if Lucifer never left, huh? What if he never let you go?"

Castiel shot up from his seat, and a memory projected onto Dean's eyes: their lips meeting and continuing to find each other. "I did what I believed would take to destroy Amara, and I was willing to make that sacrifice to save the world."

Dean licked his lips and Castiel's eyes flick down for a split second— watching his tongue just like that night, but he was too frustrated to notice. “You think you can make decisions like that without consequences? There are people who get hurt from your self-sacrificial bullshit!”

At his brother’s outburst, Sam interrupted. “Alright, that’s enough—“

"Don’t pretend you are any more righteous than me, I am not half the hypocrite you are.” Castiel asserted.

Dean never thought before speaking, and this was no different. His policy on conversations was the same as his policy on hunting: kill first, talk later. "You're a fallen angel, Cas, you've never been righteous!”

"Dean—"

"And who's fault is that!?" Castiel's voice rang around the room as a nearby light bulb shattered.

The humane side of Dean screamed at him to stop, causing regret to flood his blood. His words left a bitter taste in his mouth, once carrying bitter lies, and his stomach filled heavy with rampaging cicadas at Castiel's outburst.

The two stare at each other in silence, anger bouncing between the walls. Castiel's eyes had always been on Dean's, which is something he revelled in that night. So when the angel hardened his gaze and looked away, the hunter felt his concrete heart shatter down to fine powder.

"Goodbye, Dean. I hope you find the werewolf." Castiel gave Sam a curt nod as a farewell before walking out of the door.

“Hold on— Cas!” Sam yelled after the angel.

Dean kept his back to the door, unable to bear the sight of Castiel leaving... again. The door slammed as he stormed away, causing Sam to pace around the room. Dean peered at the tall mirror in front of him, unsurprised to see an apathetic facade.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

For funsies, do you have thoughts about what pokemon each Cullen would be most likely to have? Like idk why but I picture Emmett with a Growlithe

I swear to god I had answered this somewhere but since I can't find it, I doubt others can find it.

Let's do it.

Alice

Per the Pokemon universe, Alice is very clearly a psychic and while a powerful one is more or less bog-standard and less terrifying than Sabrina.

I imagine Alice would have a Kadabra and they would have great fun together as Alice communicates for them and uses them to teleport her places she wishes to go.

Bella

Bella has an Eevee, not only is it appropriately normal/non-interesting looking but it's very vulnerable looking, weak compared to its potential evolutionary forms, and has that evolutionary potential to become almost anything for all Bella wouldn't really recognize that fact.

She'd love Eevee because it's a normal type, just like her, because Bella is so normal it hurts.

"Bella, that means only fighting types are super effective against you"

"I am so average."

Carlisle

Carlisle has a Chansey that becomes a Blissey that is his wife Esme. See, Carlisle was working at a Pokemon Center (as one does) and one day came in a tragic Chansey that had had to run away from its trainer and in the process lost its egg.

Everyone had given up on Chansey and Carlisle, cursing himself for being a vampire and probably terrifying the life out of her, ends up taking her home.

Chansey thrives in her new environment and, as all Chansey do, becomes progressively weird the more happy she is. Chansey evolves into a Blissey, a creature that will run at lightening speeds to offer you an egg in your time of need.

It is accepted in the Cullen household that Esme the Blissey is the Cullen mom. It's so accepted, they forget it's weird.

Bella comes to their house and Edward promises she'll love his mother.

Who is his mother?

The Blissey making Italian food in the kitchen because Isaballa is Italian right? (Despite Blissey only saying "Blissey" the plot does not change at all and Bella just assumes that when Blissey goes on a long chirping rant to her it's about how great Edward is.

Yeah, Edward must be her favorite blood sucking child.)

Edward

Edward doesn't have a pokemon.

This is because as a vampire he didn't want to corrupt a good, benign, pokemon with his presence (only the fact that Carlisle and Esme are so pure prevents him from feeling too terrible about Esme). So, Edward wants to gravitate towards more... ah... let's call them tempermental pokemon such as Gengar.

However, Edward doesn't actually want a Gengar, as he wants to be a good person worthy of the world, and a Gengar also doesn't want him for that same reason.

When he meets Bella, there's a dramatic moment where she helps him accept that he too can have a pokemon like a real boy. As Bella tells him what to get, and he wants to impress her, I imagine he gets a Dragonair as it's so beautiful and elegant, just like Bella thinks Edward is (he's never allowed to evolve it into a herp de derp Dragonite).

Emmett

Growlithe and Arcanine in the pokemon world I think are a little too associated with duty/law enforcement to quite be Emmett's thing. Growlithes, while dogs, are very much watch dogs and have a steadfast seriousness when it comes to protection/the law or what have you.

I'm really struggling with him, actually.

I'm going to go with Aipom, good natured but extremely mischievous (and perhaps a little short sighted) who love to live in groups and are just looking for a good time.

Emmett would think his Aipom is the shit.

Emmett also has a Magikarp because he thinks it's hilarious. Its name is Splash. He will never ever trade it.

Esme

Esme is a Blissey. See above.

Though, a happy (but weird), day might come about when coming back from doing the shopping (which Blissey happily does now without having to worry about eating people even if the towns people of Poke Forks are a little surprised that the Blissey is just out there shopping... alone... or going to parent teacher conferences and just... acting like people) and what do you know there's an egg.

"This is our egg, Carlisle" Esme the Blissey clearly pantomimes.

"Sure," is what Carlisle says because he doesn't want to disagree (and pokemon work in mysterious ways) but he did not do the thing that you know humans do to procreate.

Anyways, point being, Esme at one point might have a little Happiny.

Rosalie looks on it with envy because while she adores Esme, EsMe CaN HaVE ChiLDrEN anD isN't a VAmPIrE.

Jasper

Jasper has a Houndoom from his glory days at war. He tries to tell people it's not a Balrog.

Jasper is wrong, it is a Balrog.

Renesmee

There's a story here.

There is great debate over what pokemon Renemsee should get as it should be as special and wonderful as she is. Edward wants to give he ran Eevee, like her mother (Bella's Eevee having since evolved into some state Bella thinks is more cool/better) and for the symbolism of potential and growth that Eevees represent.

Bella wants to give her daughter a Dratini, something that will grow up to be beautiful and elegant and otherworldly (and never a Dragonite, never, it will only stay a Dratini).

Esme of course offers her beloved daughter Happiny (but isn't that your child Esme???) as well as an egg in Renesmee's time of need.

Alice wants her with something adorable like a Pichu, Azumarill, or what have you. It will look great in pictures. And must never ever be allowed to evolve.

Emmett wants to give her a Magikarp which they will name "Splash Two" or "Splashnesmee".

Jacob, of course, wants to give Renesmee a Mightyena because it's a wolf. "It will eat her face, Jacob" Bella does not want to do this even if she admits the symbolism is touching.

In all the bickering, Renesmee stumbles across a Cleffa (stumble being that a spaceship arrived and hit her in the face). Cleffa, being extremely rare and alien, is not recognized by the Cullens who stare and wonder "what is that thing".

Alice supposes it's cute, if not what she had in mind, she can work with this. Bella, Edward, and Jacob are all still upset and trying to get Renesmee to give the thing to Esme to raise so she can have their pokemon instead.

Renesmee ends up with all the pokemon, but does not get rid of Cleffa.

Rosalie

I actually put Rosalie as having a Chikorita. Chikoritas are steadfast, loyal to those they love, as well as courageous. While a Vulpix and Ninetales would appeal to Rosalie's aesthetics, being incredibly beautiful, Chikorita would have all the qualities she'd look for in a friend/partner that is a Pokemon while also being able to be nurturing/help with chores and things (via the use of helpful vines versus well fire balls).

[yallemagne]

The sexiest thing Jonathan did is when he said that Mina "is all perfection" after she declared herself unclean twice. To me. Her skin was stained with blood and then her face was scarred for all to see and he called her perfect. And it's no words of comfort it's his own private thoughts while watching her sleep (and she's pale and so thin her teeth are prominent and her scar blazing and he's saying that watching her sleep smiling is making him "as happy as I'll ever be"). I wish I had someone tell me this when I needed it so reading him call her perfect in the face of all evidence saying she's ruined and dirty and damned, that shit hit hard.

That quote fucks. My man said "My wife is perfect. Her assault does not dirty her. If God Himself would be so cruel and unloving as to cast out Mina, I will kill God."

And fuck! The fact that this is so revolutionary and extreme is ridiculous! This should be the default reaction. Kill the God that says victims are culpable in their own suffering! Overthrow the system that degrades victims and accuses them of worse evils than their abusers.

And he doesn't just love her "in spite of" it. There isn't a massive obstacle he must overcome to love her after her assault. His love for Mina is never in question, it is his love for God that is put on the line. He would never fucking abandon her. That mark on her forehead- the scar on her neck- they could remain for all eternity and he would never take back his love. His love would remain unchallenged.

Every goddamn adaptation and interpretation that casts Mina as unfaithful or Jonathan as unloving serves no one but the fucking shitass conceptual God who says victims are monsters who no one can love-- and remember-- we're killing that bastard.

It is just so damn important. His reaction is so fucking important to the story. It is so fucking important in general to see a man react this way to his wife's suffering: with compassion instead of shame. Never once is his anger directed at Mina, and never once does he assume she is lying about what happened. He is driven by the need for justice and he will not rest until justice is served and his wife can live unfettered.

No doubt, who wouldn't want someone so faithful in a time like that? Someone who never once views you as dirty and deplorable for something that was done against your will? Someone who will always defend you, come hell or high water?

And, of course, the other men don't disagree. But they are fuelled by guilt. Mina's suffering is their punishment for not doing their due diligence, and if not for Mina standing up for herself, Van Helsing would have left her behind in London without even speaking to her about it because he hadn't learned his lesson yet. Both he and Seward check constantly to see if Mina is too far gone yet, which, yes, is per her own request.

But Jonathan does not see it that way. She is never going to be a poor creature that needs to be put down in his eyes. He shall never feel threatened by her because they are married, and if she needs the very blood from his veins, he shall give it gladly. Not out of guilt, not out of obligation, but out of undying and unconditional love.

[xcaptain-winterx]

Hey, I’m very excited for your Kinktober 2023 celebration!

Here’s my ask:

Character - Lloyd Hansen

Kink - Praise/Cuddling/Aftercare

Bonus - Werebear!Lloyd

Okay, so the idea is that Lloyd wasn’t always a werebear, but he got turned into one, just like how the witch in Beauty and the Beast turned the prince into a monster.

Werebear!Lloyd has found his mate and dragged her home. But even after she calmed down from being kidnapped, and then finding herself in a weirdly intense relationship with this creature/man… Lloyd is struggling with the bear’s instincts. They’re so different from his own. He liked rough, dirty sex that ended with him slipping out the door fifteen minutes after the deed was done. The bear wants to cuddle, and if he doesn’t get the appropriate amount of cuddling in, he’s on edge and cranky. Really cranky - and he takes it out on Lloyd.

Nowadays, Lloyd craves cuddling. He used to hate it. The bear inside of him demands he spend hours cuddling with his mate, multiple times per day. Lloyd finds that he needs to praise his mate. He has to gain her approval - the bear demands it. All of a sudden the selfish, rude, and vicious Lloyd Hansen has developed a teddy bear streak, thanks to finding his mate and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

How does he reconcile the werebear’s powerful instincts with the human side of his personality, especially when the bear’s need for softness with its mate refuses to be denied?

Little Cub

softdark werebear!Lloyd Hansen x reader

summary: above

warnings: small amount of fluff, monster kink, big dick, smut, rape, Lloyd being himself, humiliation, dark stuff, kidnapping, blood

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc. I think I did a lot of mistakes in this fic. This is kinda a dark fic….just so you know. Will do another part if you request it

Main Masterlist Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Lloyd Hansen Masterlist

Lloyd is planning how he’s going to torture the fucking cunt who cursed him into this beast. He perhaps was a monster, but still didn’t deserve that. His words. It’s not his fault that he didn’t want to kiss her. That bitch looked ugly as fuck.

He can still feel how his bones cracked and muscles twisted as he transformed. The painful screams he let out as he became the thing she cursed him to be in all eternity.

A bear. A giant light brown bear with sharp claws and teeth.

There’s not a moment he isn’t reminded of what he is now, even when he isn’t in his other form. From his now sharper and longer finger nails to how his body is now covered in more hair, though, he must say, he likes the mustache.

Not only is his normal physical form now different. Lloyd is so hungry all the time and mostly for meat. Problem is that he’s alone in his castle with no staff or anyone to bring him food. Well, there once were people, but his hunger got the best of him. Now, he’s all alone. He’s forced to go into the woods and hunt for whatever living creature he sees. On lucky days, he finds humans in the forest, hunting or just taking a walk, but most days he just finds deers, bunnies or wolfs.

The hunger isn’t his biggest problem though, no, it’s how fucking hard he gets for no reason at all 24/7. He could be sitting down in one of many lounge areas and suddenly get a boner without thinking of anything slightly dirty. It’s not like he doesn’t have needs and jacks himself off a lot, but this is way different. It’s painful. When he tries to ignore it, he feels how the beast is making him feel like a thousand bullets are piercing through his skin. Like needles are boring through his bones and muscles. His muscles tense, his nails getting longer, veins popping until he transforms into what he hates most. Once transformed, the need to breed is so strong he humps everything which is near him, trying to get rid of the pain. In his other form, he doesn’t feel like him. It’s like he’s only half himself. The bear is a constant voice in his head, making him insane.

Over time, Lloyd got better at controlling it, but the smallest things could set the beast in him free. He only leaves his castle to hunt for food. He can’t even drink his sorrows away because he already drank every bottle in the castle….in just three months.

Oh, but Lloyd would’ve never guessed how lucky he would get today when he goes to hunt in the woods.

Today, you are on a walk in the forest. The sky is covered in thick grey clouds. It’s getting grayer by every passing second. You just wanted to go on a quick walk to clear your head, but got lost, though you are not panicking. You would be, if you knew what was going to happen because not so far away you caught the attention of the hungry eyes of Lloyd. His pupils are dilated that there is no white anymore. Your sweet smell making his dick painfully hard. Lloyd already smelled you miles away, running immediately into the forest when he first caught the smell of your scent.

You walk down an old path, asking yourself how you get out of the forest, until you hear something. You turn around, but see nothing. A breath leaves your lungs you didn’t know you held in. Just as you are about to continue down the path, you come face to face, well, more like face to chest, with the chest of a big man. Hair is covering his entire chest and as you move your eyes upwards, you can see his dark eyes staring right into your soul.

You don’t move, you can’t move. You’re too scared to make a move.

“Run, rabbit” he says, flashing you his sharp teeth in a cocky manner. Fear finally crosses your face, and a scream leaves your mouth as the man slowly starts to get bigger. You take off and run away, his laugh fallowing you. You run through the woods, like your life depends on it because it probably does. There’s no explanation that you can think of as to what he is. You just know that he’s not good.

It starts to rain, first, only small drops before a full on shower. The once dry ground is now muddy and slippery, making you almost slip. The falling raindrops are hitting your cheeks and making it sting like needles. You almost don’t hear a loud growl behind you due to the rain. It’s getting closer and closer.

In your panic you don’t see the wet mud line before you and the next thing you know, you slipped out and fell into the mud, but at least not face first.

You turn around in the mud to see a giant bear in-front of you, looking at you with his cold dead eyes. The color of his fur, the sharp teeth and the look he is giving you makes you realize that this monster in front of you is the man.

You somehow can’t scream, even as the beast jumps at you and presses you deeper into the mud and before you know it, this monster raises his claw and rips your clothes off in one swift move. You try to get out from under him with no luck.

He’s too big.

The beast sniffs you before grazing his teeth over your collarbone to your stomach. Silent tears start to run down your face.

It suddenly puts a claw on your left shoulder and presses your right leg up, putting you in an uncomfortable position. You feel something hard touch your pussy and it’s then when it dawns on you what is going to happen.

The monster doesn’t give you a chance before slamming his dick into your pussy, giving you no time to adjust. This time you scream. You scream like you are getting torn apart because you literally are. It feels like someone is cutting you open.

Lloyd doesn’t care about your screaming or your tears, he’s desperate for this, no matter how fucked up it is. He’s diving into your pussy over and over again. As Lloyd thrusts into you, his furry hips slapping against yours in a primal rhythm. He growls low in his throat as he takes you, his thrusts deep and powerful.

You feel pain with only a little bit of pleasure. Even if you know your climax is approaching, you are begging him to stop. The begging coming out as screams for mercy.

Lloyd’s thrusts are growing deeper and more powerful, his groans echoing through the woods. He doesn’t care that you come around his dick and neither that you start coating his dick in your blood. He thrusts faster into you before shooting his sperms into your pussy with a loud roar.

Your eyes widen a last time as his cum fills you up before the black around your vision takes over. This doesn’t stop Lloyd though, from rutting into your passed out form again and again, needing to release.

Once Lloyd is done, he pulls out of you, automatically growling, well, more like the beast in him, as his sperm spills out of your abused pussy. Still in his beast form, he turns to make his way back to the castle, but something pulls him back.

The beast.

It’s making his body feel like it’s on fire, burning down with no way of putting it out. He falls to the ground, feeling like he’s going to die until he smells you. Lloyd looks over at you, not understanding why you stopped the monster’s torture on him. He slowly manages to get up and goes over to you, grunting before biting into your leg and pulling you with him to his castle.

As he arrives, he drags down to the cells. Lloyd grunts as his body becomes smaller again once he lets go of your leg. The hair falling down, the ears vanishing and his teeth and claws shrinking. He stands up, getting used to his body again, feeling exhausted now that he feels all the orgasms he had. Having an orgasm as a bear is like having three orgasms and he had five bear orgasms. He is ready to go to sleep.

His eyes move to you before he walks out of the room, not staring at your naked body, but your soft face framed by your beautiful hair. He shakes his head as he realizes what he’s doing and walks out, slamming the cell behind him and locking it.

Your body is in pain is the first thing you realize as you come back from what felt like the dead. You open your eyes, blinking a few times before you start to realize where you are. Curses leave your mouth as you try to move your body, deciding to just stay in the position for a while as the pain grows bigger every time you try to move. You look at the room from the ground, gray stone walls, no windows, cold hard stone ground and prison bars as a door.

“No no no no no” you say over and over again, panicking at the fact of where you are. You manage to move in an upward position, letting your back rest against the cold stones. A deep pain interrupts from your leg as you move it and as you look down at it, you see a deep bite mark. It’s still red and bloody, looking like out of a true horror movie. Not only that, but you can also see the dried blood on your body at your pussy. The rest of your body, including your hair, is covered in now dry mud.

You cry as you remember what happened, the beast catching you and fucking you in the mud. You don’t know how you got here, but looking at the bite mark, you can imagine that wherever you are, the monster is here too.

“Stop crying so fucking loud” a voice whispers aggressively from behind the bars.

You lift your head to look at the voice and see the man from the woods, the man who transformed into a monster.

“Go away!” you scream at him.

The man sighs and throws his head back, annoyed. He pushes himself off the wall and leans with his head pressed on the bars. A mocking pout spreads on his face.

“Aww, is the girl scared of the bad big bear?”

You wipe your tears away, looking at him with pure rage. “Fuck you”.

Lloyd laughs, his sharp teeth shining brightly in the moonlight from the small window. “Again? You truly are a freaky hell of a woman” he says, winking at you.

The veins in your neck are about to pop as you charge at him. Well, try to charge at him, but your legs give midway out, falling right onto your knees.

“Cute” he says, looking unimpressed.

You lay defeated on the floor, feeling dirty and gross. You wished you never would have entered the woods.

He looks at you, feeling weird, like he feels a deep pain in his heart. Pity? Sadness? Regret? God knows what it is, but Lloyd doesn’t like it. He can feel the beast inside him starting to get hectic, needing to be pet out.

His gaze wanders to you once again. Normally, he would have killed his victims by now or eaten them, but the beast won’t let him eat you, even though you taste so delicious.

Lloyd thinks for a moment, before asking, “what’s your name?”.

“Why should I tell you my name?”

Lloyd opens the door. “Because I’m hungry and your blood smells delicious”.

You gulp and say “My name is y/n”.

He steps closer and crouches down in front of you, grabbing your face and pulling it harshly as you try to move your head away from his soft touch.

“Such a pretty name to such a pretty face and pussy” Lloyd says smelling your dirty hair.

Not only can he smell you but also you him. You smell a dark woody smell mixed with sweet apple. Two opposite smells, one sweet and the other a strong manly smell, but they still fit together like two sides of the same coin. Now that he’s so close, you can analyze his face, from his thick mustache to his light freckles and beautiful eyes that aren’t as dark as you remembered them to be.

“Are you going to kill me?” you ask, trying not to shake out of fear.

Lloyd’s eyes move to meet yours, his eyes boring into you. He thinks for a minute, trying to ignore the beast before making a decision.

“No”

“N-No?” you look at him slightly confused. You truly thought he would kill you.

Lloyd lets go of your face and stands up and then simply walks out of the cell, not locking it. You think for a second of escaping. It’s a now or never situation, but you know you wouldn’t make it far in your condition and you are not that keen on seeing the monster in his form again, so you wait and are happy with your decision because not a second later he walks back in the cell with a bucket in his hand.

As he comes closer, you see that he is carrying a bucket filled with water and a wet cloth hanging on the side. Once in front of you, he puts the bucket down, making water splash down from the side.

“Clean up” Lloyd says, looking down at you. You nod, waiting for him to walk away, but he doesn’t, he just continues to stare at you.

You don’t know what to do; you don’t want him to watch your naked form even more. He looks like he’s waiting patiently for you to do something.

Just as you are about to grab the cloth and clean yourself, thinking he wants to watch you, he kicks your arm away from the bucket, making you wince.

“Oh, thank you, Lloyd, for being so nice and giving me something to clean up. How kind of you” Lloyd says sarcastically. He got you something to clean up with and you don’t even bother to thank you. Typical women.

You can’t believe what you are hearing. This man, monster, who kidnapped you, raped you and hurt you wants a thank you. Not only are you confused as to his demands, but you also just learned that his name is Lloyd.

“Are you deaf!”

Lloyd’s screaming brings you back and you quickly shake your head. “Thank yo-“

“Is that what I told you to say!” he screams again.

“You told me to thank you and that’s what I-“ you can’t finish your sentence because Lloyd splashes some of the water on you.

“Say ‘thank you, Lloyd, for being so nice and giving me something to clean up. How kind of you’. Now!”

“But-“ he sprinkles with his fingers some water on you again.

“Say. It”. You wipe your face before finally saying what Lloyd wants you to say. He grins as he stands straight again, but the grin doesn’t seem evil this time. It looks like a happy grin and if you look closely, you could see a small blush. Lloyd walks after soon after you said at, leaving you alone in the locked. Just as he’s about to walk around the corner, he turns back to you.

“Maybe you last longer than the last ones”

With that, he fully leaves, leaving your scared form alone.

The sky is pitch black and the air of the night cold as you are woken from your slumber by footsteps. You know there is only one other person in this place and you don’t want to see him. You act like you are still asleep, facing the wall, trying not to move, which is hard because you are freezing.

After you washed yourself with the bucket of water, you forgot you don’t have something to dry yourself with it or even to sit your ass on. The cold floor and the air are making you shake like crazy. You won’t be surprised if you catch a cold.

The footsteps come closer and closer. The closer they get, the more you notice those footsteps are heavy and sound like more than two feet.

A shiver runs down your spine as you realize who-or what, it is.

You lay your face more into the floor, trying to sink into it, scared of what will happen soon. You can still feel his seeds inside you.

The footsteps stop in front of the cell and put a hand over your mouth. With some luck, the beast will just walk away if it sees you asleep. All hope is lost though, as the lock rattles. It rattles for some seconds before it stops.

Maybe it can’t open it in this form. Maybe it will walk away.

A scream almost leaves your lips as the beast suddenly trashes against the cell, trying to get in. It doesn’t take long before the cell door slams open. A tear slips down your cheek as the monster walks into the cell. Everything comes flashing back from when the beast was on top of you, slamming into you repeatedly. You hear it come closer and just beg god to let it be over fast. The claws of the beast turn you onto your back, but he doesn’t get on top of you. Instead of getting on top of you, the bear lays his head on your stomach, snuggling into you.

You are shocked at that action, not understanding what’s going on. You hold your breath, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does.

You open your eyes and see the bear with closed eyes on your stomach, looking like a big puppy. As confused and freaked out as you are, you don’t complain.

He’s so warm.

After a while, when you are sure he’s 100% sure he’s asleep, you dare to put your hand on his head. He stops snoring as you do it, before continuing letting out soft snores.

You smile, seeing this huge bear be soft, even though he’s a monster-well, you don’t really know what he is.

This doesn’t mean you like him, though.

No.

[vixstarria]

Kinky NSFW Alphabet for Asmodea and Astarion

I was tagged by @spacebarbarianweird - thanks, this one was fun

Tagging @tragedybunny @snowfolly @mj-bites @bardic-inspo @thechaoticdruid

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I HC that Astarion is a human (elven) boa constrictor, and getting out of his arms is no simple task, especially if he's cold. This is a burden that Asmodea is more than happy to bear.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Asmodea's quite fond of Astarion's hands, both for aesthetic and practical purposes.

Astarion likes her neck, lol.

C = Cum (where does your muse prefer to cum/have someone cum)

Honestly, anywhere, it doesn't matter, just clean up after yourself and don't get it in her eyes or hair.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It's not their secret but they're happy to oblige - they've fucked Wyll before, and he prefers to keep that knowledge between the three of them.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Astarion is self-explanatory.

Asmodea spent roughly a decade as a travelling bard prior to the events of BG3, and went all in into the slutty bard stereotype. For her sex was just something fun, to have in abundance and not take seriously.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. 😈

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

They're clowns.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Look, I don't want to have to think about Asmodea's body hair, nor about whether she takes care of it or how, so I'm going with her inheriting the hairless gene from her elven parent.

Astarion doesn't have body hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It's not always romantic per se, but they trust each other completely in the moment, including trusting each other to be open / voice their needs or limits.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

One of my headcanons for how they handled Astarion's issues with sexual intimacy is that they gradually eased back into it over time, including by doing things like masturbating for each other but not otherwise touching.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

It's more Asmodea's, Astarion doesn't really care either way but goes along with it, but a bit of risky voyeurism / semi-public sex.

They both talk a lot of shit during sex, and have a lot of fun doing that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The immediate words out of Astarion's mouth the first time they had sex on the ceiling were "We need to do this again".

Asmodea just wants a nice, soft bed, man...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I have the following two headcanons:

Thinking creature blood goes straight to Astarion's dick

Vampire saliva acts as an aphrodisiac if it comes in contact with a person's blood

These two things complement each other quite nicely.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Astarion cannot stand being degraded.

Asmodea can't do gags or choking.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

They're both enthusiastic about it but see it as more of an appetiser than a full course.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It can start slow and sensual but usually ends on the fast and rough side.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sure, why not?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Asmodea's middle name is "fuck it we ball".

Astarion is likewise contemptuous of potential consequences, and is happy to go along with whatever's on her mind.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think Astarion's been conditioned to last as long as is required of him.

A round or two for Asmodea, I guess, no need to be greedy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yeah they've got a collection.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It's part of the game, especially if it starts in a place or at a time where they could not possibly actually do anything.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Asmodea is loud, I think Astarion is more of a gasper / grunter.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

In my longfic, I have them regularly seduce and 'lure' other people into their bed, for them both to have sex with and Astarion to drink from. (No, they don't kill their guests, everything including the blood is strictly consensual) He does it as a twist of what he had to do for Cazador, but safe and on his own terms, to try to replace those memories and associations with positive ones.

Does it work? Is it even a good idea? How should I know, I'm not a psychologist, and neither is Astarion.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Nothing out of the ordinary for Asmodea, and we've all seen Astarion's scars.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Asmodea passes out soon after. Astarion eventually does too, but he enjoys just lying there with his lover in his arms.

Well that was fun. Anyway, here's all my smut with these two.

[thenightfolknetwork]

So I know you don’t answer many questions from- across the pond, as it were, but I don’t need any legal advice, and I’m at my wit’s end. I’m hoping you can help.

So my genus is very small. In point of fact it’s just my family, as far as I know, and it’s only ever one creature active at a time- bunch of sapios doing sapio things, then the previous Creature dies or sees the Signs and boom! One of us Wakes and hey look at that, new Hierophant! And as the current Hierophant I Speak and Am Heard- part of the reason I’m writing to you.

A part of my genus is acting as the mouthpiece for a portent of the apocalypse. That's not a secret- hell, its why the town has the name it does and why the family name's on the radio station. Predictably, I am the foremost DJ on 226.5, the Voice of Birch.

It’s not a bad gig, per say. I go to work and between the traffic reports and the local top forty I give an update on the eventual Coming of The Burned Birch. It never lasts long and my local community really likes it. The Birch sort of became a touristy thing, you see- awesome in the autumn, all its leaves yellow and glowing with ghostfire.

Well, so they tell me. I can't actually LOOK at the Birch-if I do, I'll go by way of great uncle Milton and turn into salt. Thank goodness pictures and art don't count or we'd have to move the station and the whole family into the old mica mine.

The Birch likes being appreciated and turned into post cards and calanders, though. It’s a bit of a show off, really. I guess I’d be showing off if I were a tree that could move around at will.

The problem is that lately, the Birch has been sending me updates at the most inconvenient times. It's generally a twice a day thing, but now I’ll be brushing my teeth at five AM and the whole town hears me ominously spouting coordinates and warning of the cracking of the earth and rising of the dead. The Birch can’t even make the dead rise, there’s been wards on the local cemetery for a century!

Or I’ll be making an order at my coffee shop and suddenly I’m telling poor Taylor the barista that the trees come down the mountain to open their fiery branches to the burnished sky.  

The worst of it is at ten or eleven at night when I’m trying to settle into bed. My hometown is very small and quiet, so most folks are in bed early unless they’re nocturnal like the coven that runs the night shift at the bakery. I’ll be drowsing, mind floating off to dreamland, and all of a sudden I’m bolt upright in bed declaring that West Street’s pavement is going to shatter with the feet of elder gods, flee the Burned Birch, flee! People are losing sleep.

It's getting out of hand. I’m not in danger of losing my job or anything (not even sure I can be fired, to be honest) but when you live in a town with less than two thousand people and everyone knows you’re the Hierophant of the Burned Birch, well. That's me avoiding the next St. Mary's rummage sale.

I know you always say communication is key and I’ve tried, believe me. All the old methods- blood rituals under the full moon, a cracked labradorite under my pillow, whispering to the moths- it hasn’t worked.

There's nothing in the family archives about the Burned Birch acting like this and frankly, I’m worried. Is there something wrong? Some rot or fungus that infects only apocalyptic omen trees? Is it trying to reach out to me for help? I can't go look at it and my friends tell me it looks fine. They show me pictures and my omen looks fine! How do I tell if it’s being needy or if it’s being obnoxious? and how do I hang on to my declarations without a three hour nosebleed?

Literally anything you've got will help, at this point. Thanks in advance!

-Fat Ricki, The Voice Of Birch

First of all, may I say how lovely it is to hear from another radio professional? Liminal broadcasting is a topic close to my heart, and it's always nice to hear from others in the field.

To your question, I think your first job is to absolutely rule out the possibility of any physical or magical ailment your tree might be suffering.

You said you've had friends inspect the tree, and have looked at photos to assess the situation yourself. But tree diseases are not always easy to spot with the naked eye, especially to the untrained. This is doubly true for thaumaturgically active trees, which may be susceptible to infections, infestations and diseases on several planes of reality.

I recommend investing in the services of a trained arboreal arcanist. In the United Kingdom, customers can find specialists through the Arcane Arboricultural Society, whose members must meet the societies standards of professionalism and training. If such an organisation exists in your area, all to the good.

If not, take some time to read up on professional qualifications available to tradespeople in your state. You want someone qualified in thaumaturgic horticulture, and preferably with the ability to perceive reality on at least three additional planes, if not more.

There are several pests and diseases that might be causing your tree's distress, from spectral bacteria to ether flux. Better to invest a little time and money in ruling those out than risk leaving them untreated.

I think it's safe to say your tree is trying to get your attention for some reason. Once you've ruled out disease or discomfort as the possible reason, consider what else might have changed since this behaviour began. Has it been receiving fewer visitors than usual, or perhaps been the subject of a less-than-flattering news article?

Many apocalyptic trees, shrubs and bushes have a tendency to fussiness and egotism. It's very possible that your tree wants nothing more than to be the subject of a bit of ego-stroking fuss. You might try drumming up a few more visitors and acolytes, or performing a ritual of appeasement that recognises its great and terrible power.

The phrase “attention-seeking” carries with it a host of negative connotations. Instead, think of this as “support-seeking” behaviour. There is a need your tree feels is unmet, and as its Hierophant, it's up to you to meet it. With a bit of reassurance and attention, I think your tree should settle down into its usual ways in no time.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[sinful-morningstar]

Spartober day 17 Gunslinger (VerDante)

Author's note: Sorry i didnt post last night something came up but i managed to write this while recovering from a hangover so its kinda short and sweet and as per usual i canr write about Dante without Vergil and i cant write about Vergil without Dante (or Nero..or Sparda...) anyways Enjoy todays (Technically yesterday's) prompt! Prompts by whatsanapocalae1 (I use a combination of SparTober and Devil MayTober Prompts ) 17: Gunslinger (VerDante) Vergil and Dante stood in the underworld fighting off the monsters that came their way, slaying them all down one by one, back to back the Sparda twins did their best to defend themselves and each other.

The older Sparda twin couldn't pry his eyes off of Dante who used a swift mixture of the Rebellion and his beloved pistols Ebony and Ivory, an odd name for such weaponry but he admired the way Dante moved and how he would say a clever quip while taking the monsters down.

Their eyes met as a dust of pink showed up on their cheeks; they both had a knack for showing off especially to one another in an odd attempt of not just competitiveness but also a form of flirting this duel of wits and weapons clashing together while they worked together as a truly dynamic duo.

As the battle raged on in the dark and fiery realm of the underworld, Vergil and Dante continued to stand back to back, their trust in each other unshaken by the relentless hordes of monstrous creatures. The scent of sulphur and brimstone filled the air as they unleashed their formidable powers against the unholy forces that assailed them.

Vergil couldn't help but admire the grace with which Dante moved, his long, Silver hair swaying in the heat of battle. With each swing of Rebellion and each bullet fired from Ebony and Ivory, Dante made it seem like a lethal dance, his movements both fluid and deadly. The playful quips that rolled off Dante's tongue only added to the charismatic flair he brought to the battle, and it was impossible for Vergil not to be captivated by his brother's bravado.

Dante, too, found himself drawn to Vergil. His elder brother's stoic determination and precision in combat were like a finely crafted masterpiece. The way Vergil effortlessly dispatched foes with his Yamato sword and summoned arcane magic left Dante in awe. He admired Vergil's brooding intensity, the way he carried himself with a quiet confidence that could silence even the fiercest storm.

Their eyes locked again, sparks of unspoken words passing between them. The dusty pink blush on their cheeks deepened as their playful banter continued, a symphony of flirtatious teasing.

"You know, Vergil, I thought you said you'd handle the tough ones," Dante quipped as he shot a line of demons with Ebony and Ivory.

Vergil smirked, his voice cool and composed, "I merely left them for you as an appetiser, little brother."

Dante chuckled as he executed a daring flip to avoid a charging demon, "Always keeping me on my toes, aren't you, big bro?"

Their laughter mixed with the sounds of battle, a unique harmony that only the Sparda twins could create. They were, after all, cut from the same otherworldly cloth, each born of their demon father and human mother. The competition and camaraderie between them were as much a part of their nature as the demon blood that coursed through their veins.

In the heat of the battle, their flirtatious sparring with words and glances continued, and it was clear that they enjoyed this dance as much as the one with their weapons. They were a formidable duo, not only in terms of combat skills but also in their ability to draw strength and support from each other.

As the last of the monsters fell, Vergil and Dante stood victorious, their eyes still locked, and their smiles revealing more than words ever could. In the underworld's fiery glow, they knew they would always be each other's greatest rivals and closest confidants, a Swordsman and a Gunslinger whose bond was as unbreakable as the weapons they wielded.

They met in the middle as they stood toe to toe, their eyes locked on one another while they drew in closer. Dante’s hair falling in his face as he let out a fond chuckle, Vergil humming with amusement in turn. The tension between them was prominent with each step they took moving closer their hearts beat as one.

Dante's fingers brushed a lock of his unruly hair back, revealing his mischievous grin. "You know, Vergil," he mused, his voice a low rumble, "I think we make a pretty good team."

Vergil's eyes sparkled with a rare warmth, his lips curving into a half-smile. "Perhaps. But don't let it go to your head, little brother."

With a slow, deliberate movement, Dante leaned in, his breath warm against Vergil's cheek. "You've got to admit, Verg ," he murmured, "we're unstoppable together."

Vergil's breath caught in his throat, a surge of something electric coursing through him. He met Dante's gaze, his own eyes holding a fierce intensity. "Indeed, little brother," he replied, his voice a low, intimate murmur, "we are."

The pair leaned in close, letting their weapons rest to the side of them clutched in their hands, they were mere inches away from each other, their breath ghosting on one another’s lips.

“Dante~” Vergil purred sweetly, his tone soft and gentle.

Dante sighed as he moved closer “Cmon Vergil..just once…” he pleaded with a whisper.

Time seemed to stand still as they hovered in that charged space, their worlds colliding and merging in a way that felt both inevitable and right. As if pulled by a shared gravity, their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a moment of sweet surrender, a testament to all that had brought them to this point, a promise of what was yet to come.

In that fiery realm of the underworld, the gunslingers stood united, their hearts beating as one, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them next. They were a force to be reckoned with, a pair of kindred spirits bound by more than blood, destined to conquer whatever trials came their way, together.