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bubblegumgothglados · 4 months ago

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This is my RACK focused judgment free primer for heavy impact play. It covers every part of the body from head to toe and at no point does it say you can’t do something just the risks of doing so. I don't normally put warnings on my posts but most of my writing is fantasy, this isn't. I'm going to talk about any number of painful deaths and heaps more ways of becoming disabled.

In this primer "you" means the one doing the hitting, "victim" is the one being hit, and "tool" is the thing you're hitting with which could be a fist, foot, hammer, bat, anything. I'm writing it this way because its fun for me.

This primer also assumes you know the different types of impacts and how they affect the body, if you don't go look at my other writings.

Finally i take no responsibility for anything you do. All this information is what i could put together from medical journals and car crash reports if I've got anything wrong (and you can prove it) please let me know.

Enjoy

Head. With hits to the head, the two major concerns are concussions and neck injuries. A concussion occurs when a person’s brain impacts with the inside of their skull, this happens because the brain is suspended in fluid so if the skull stops or starts moving suddenly the brain will move out of sync with the skull. Symptoms of concussions can include headaches, confusion, lack of coordination, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in the ears, sleepiness, and excessive fatigue. If your victim lost consciousness for any length of time and is having trouble speaking or understanding your words, you need to get them to the ER. There is no cure for a concussion but the best treatment is pain medication and activities that won’t tax the brain to give it time to recover. There are any number of ways to damage a neck, but generally it happens when a person’s neck is moved suddenly and violently or pushed past its limit. Minor injuries should heal by themselves within a few weeks but if unlucky pain and stiffness can last months or even years. For more major injuries, physical therapy or a neck brace might be necessary but only if the pain lasts longer than a few weeks. It’s also possible to hit someone hard enough to break their neck or fracture their skull but that takes a lot of force. All of these injuries can be avoided by supporting your victim’s head and neck by bracing their head against a surface or holding their head with your hand.

Jaw. It takes surprisingly little force to dislocate a jaw, you can do so with a good slap Dislocations are talked about in Note 3 at the bottom of this primer. Heavy bleeding from gums or a tooth that feels loose could indicate a fractured root. This is a fairly minor issue and if you see a dentist quickly they should be able to fix it back in place with no lasting damage. A tooth that has been knocked out completely should survive; get your victim to rinse their mouth out and rinse the tooth off and shove it back into the gap, and then have them see a dentist to make sure it’s properly seated and avoid chewing with it for a while.

Eyes. A fun combination of fragile and complicated. There's no first aid tips I can give you and it'll be real obvious if something is wrong. I will say you don't have to hit someones eye to give them a black eye, it’s bruising around the eye socket that matters. Also check Note 1 about the use of ice when treating injuries.

Nose. It’s more difficult than you think to break a nose. You definitely can with a good punch but you'll have to really commit. A broken nose isn't that serious (I've broken mine twice now) and isn't even ER worthy. If your victim is leaning backwards after breaking their nose the blood will run down the back of their throat potentially making them vomit or very sick. There is a chance a broken nose will heal in a way that restricts breathing in which case your victim may need surgery.

Cheek bone. Below the temple but above the gum line, running from just bellow their ear to their nose. Special mention to this spot because it’s the best place to hit your victim in the head (in my opinion). This piece of bone is very sturdy and not that risky to fracture. Plus, when you hit them here they have to watch it coming.

Neck. The windpipe, jugular, cranial nerves, vagus nerve, carotid arteries, and spine all live here and damage to any of these can cause permanent disability or death. Seek medical attention if your victim has trouble breathing or swallowing, or a lot of pain or swelling. Stingy tools are far less risky here than thuddy tools.

Shoulders. Note 2 on joints. The shoulder blades can either be an ideal impact location or one of the most risky depending on how it’s sitting. If the shoulder blade is jutting out away from the rest of the back, it’s very easy to damage If it’s laying flat against the back, it’s protected by a thick layer of fat and muscle.

Biceps. Top 4 impact location. The main concern is damaging the elbow and shoulder joints, if hitting in a way that will pull on those joints. Much like with the head, bracing the impact area against a surface will minimize the risk. Repeated hits to this area can temporarily disable the arm, which is fun.

Forearm. As above, the main risk is damaging the adjoining joints. There are also several important blood vessels and nerves running through this area and not a lot of fat an muscle to protect them.

Hands. Very little fat or muscle, mostly tendons, nerves, and cartilage. See Note 2 on joints. Special note to the palm, which hurts like hell but is relatively safe because of the extra muscle and fat in that area, great for punishment. Once again, stingy tools are much less risky than thuddy tools.

Breasts/ biceps. Top 4 impact locations. Thick layers of fat, muscle, and bone protect anything vital.

Sternum. That is the bone running down the center of a person’s chest that connects to their ribs. Not in itself very fragile but the cartilage that connects it to the ribs is easily damaged and will take a long time to heal. A fractured sternum will likely cause shortness of breath and pain when taking deep breaths. There's not much to be done about these injuries just rest and avoiding strenuous activity.

Spine. The single most risky impact location. Any damage to the spine risks permanent paralysis of everything below that point. As ever, stingy tools present less risk than thuddy tools.

Rib cage. Designed to protect a person’s most vital organs, the rib cage is very strong. Fractured ribs will cause pain breathing but aren't particularly serious. Snapped ribs can pierce organs If this happens, it'll be immediately obvious and medical intervention is required to prevent painful death. Special note to the 'floating' ribs at the bottom of a persons rib cage which don't connect to the sternum and are therefore much less resilient. Second special note to the spot right above a persons heart. A significantly hard impact at exactly the wrong moment in their cardiac cycle can stop their heart. They will loose consciousness and you will need to give them CPR until they can be defibrillated. This is ridiculously unlikely but better to mention just in case.

Abdomen. If you feel around your victim’s belly, you can figure out the line where their abdominal muscles sit. If you have them tense these muscles, you can hit them fairly hard with relatively little risk because the muscles plus the fat in that area create a thick layer of protection. (Pro tip: "Stay tense or this will might kill you" is not only true but hot and terrifying). Outside of that area or if they don't tense, there's real risk of bruising or even rupturing their intestines, which carries a 50-70% survival rate depending on how quickly you can get them to the ER. Symptoms to look out for are bloating, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and fatigue. Special note to the kidneys, which sit next to the backbone just below the rib cage and are very easily bruised. The primary symptom to look for is blood when peeing. As always, stingy tools carry less risk than thuddy tools.

Gluteus maximus. That's their butt. Hit it as hard as your victim will let you. Enough has been said about this region; I don't feel the need to recover that ground. Note 4 on bruises.

Genitals. I'm not going to get into CBT, that's a separate kink. But the vagina is very durable as it’s pretty much just flesh and fat on the outside Minimal risk, go to town.

Thigh. Top 4 impact location. Outer thigh will hurt more and bruise more. As with the head and arms, the primary risk is damaging the adjoining joints. Note 4 on bruises because this is the primary place for DVT.

Calf. As above. Shins are also a great location for punishment because they hurt like hell.

Feet. Very similar to hands. The soles of a person’s foot are intended to impact with the ground frequently and with some force, so they can take a fair bit of punishment.

Note 1. Ice. It is no longer suggested injury procedure to use ice to reduce swelling. Yes, it is effective at reducing swelling but we now understand swelling is an important part of the healing process and although ice might make it feel and look better in the short term, it actually increases the amount of time the injury will take to heal. You want the blood to be able to flow to the injury to take away dead cells and bring nutrients and energy.

Note 2. Joints. Neck, spine, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles, and toes. The reason these are almost always labeled "red" or "no go" on impact play body maps is because these are choke points for blood vessels and nerves; they are made of fragile tendons and cartilage, and they have very little padding for protection. They're also important for movement day to day and very difficult to heal properly. If a joint is damaged, you can buy braces for every joint from most pharmacies.

Note 3. Dislocations. If you're lucky, a partial dislocation will relocate by itself if you move the joint around as you normally would, not forcing it or trying to manipulate it with your hand, just moving it with its own muscles. If it does naturally relocate but you still have pain a few weeks later seek a medical professional. If you're unlucky or if it’s a total dislocation, you will have to see a medical professional. DO NOT TRY TO FORCE IT BACK INTO PLACE!

Note 4. Bruises. Normally, bruises are nothing to worry about but there are situations where a deep bruise can be a health concern. If the bruise continues to get worse after a week, there could be a hematoma under the skin, which is like a blood clot, and might need to be removed. The other possible complication is Deep Vein Thrombosis, which is a blood clot and can be lethal, if not treated quickly. With DVT, the symptoms are tenderness, warmth, and a "pulling sensation" which are pretty normal impact play symptoms. But if you're doing impact play at the level that could cause DVT, then you and your victim should know their healing process intimately, so if something feels off or isn't healing right, get them to a medical professional; better safe than dead.

#lessons in kink

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jymwahuwu · 5 months ago

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capitano and hypno. that is all.

cw: yandere, non-con, hypnosis, forced mating press

😳 Capitano is probably not the type to actively hypnotize you, but here is Dottore, the evil one who will do anything. You were too stubborn, so Dottore took you away to be hypnotized and tested to see if you could fall into a state of mindless obedience. You sneak into Capitano's bedroom and ride on top of him. "Wait." He pressed his thumbs on your eye sockets, watching your eyes sparkle, but as if you had no independent consciousness.

You eagerly desired him and unzipped his pants, opening your mouth to hold the tip of the harder cock until your mouth was so full that you couldn't pronounce complete syllables. "Mmm…" He realized something was wrong with you and restrained himself from pulling you out. He held you in the air with one hand, watching you struggle and whimper.

"You don't know what you're doing," he said. "You're going to hate me when you wake up."

Capitano can't lie to himself because he does respond to you. In the haze of pleasure, you couldn't find a way to relieve your desire for him, so you could only instinctively rub his cock with your private parts, bobbing up and down. He guided you to sit on him and ride him, the thickness almost splitting you in half. You regained more than half of your consciousness, and you were horrified to find yourself sitting on Fatui's lap being penetrated.

Then you cry. His rough, gloved thumb wiped away your tears and comforted you…and then. He didn't stop. The thick cock twitched violently inside you, which seemed to symbolize that his inner moral compass was swinging wildly. "Sorry." He apologized bluntly, then pushed you on the mattress and placed you in the mating position. His mask was still covering you, and some of his warm hair fell on your face. You could hear the guilty voice behind the mask. "…I'm sorry." Then it was so violent that white light shone in front of your eyes.

Your butt was completely unable to move, and you were just pressed down on the bed to bear the impact and shaking. The soft and weak screams and moans resounded throughout his bedroom all night long.

#yandere capitano x reader #capitano x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 days ago

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Squeaky Clean 8

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

Note: Oh Steverino.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The rhythm of flesh echoes in your head. It isn't until you open your eyes that the world is still. It's over.

Your teeth chatter as you exhale, eyes glued to ceiling as you languish in the aftermath. The smell of sweat drowns you, the shadow of his touch stain you. Your skin is raw from his ravenous exertion and your insides are shredded.

It hurts just to roll your eyes around their sockets. You tilt your head carefully and look down at Steve’s arm strewn across your middle. His heat swelters over you like arid desert air.

You wallow like that for a time. Your consciousness stirs your restlessness. As your chest wracks tightly, you push away his embrace and sit up. You need space, just for a second.

You get one leg over the edge of the bed before he has you by your arm, just above the elbow. With ease, he yanks you back down. You tremble and let out a yelp.

"Please, I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Stay," he insists.

"I--" you begin but it's meaningless.

His hand trails up your arm and tickles across your shoulders. He purrs as he draws himself flush to you. He nuzzles your cheek and pets your other. His lips brush your ear as he whispers, "on your side, baby."

You tense but obey. You hide behind your eyelids as he grazes over your hair and pushes it flat. He slips his other arms beneath your and bends it to cover your throat. His grip hovers but does not squeeze.

His other hand traces the length of your body and he latches in your hip. He pushes until your arch your back.

You clutch the corner of the pillow as he drags his fingertips around your ass and strokes himself hard. He pushes his tip along the crease of your cheeks and leans against you as he finds your entrance. He pushes a finger along the front to steady himself as he impaled you with a sigh.

You turn your face into the pillow and whine. His intrusion is even more torturous than before. He clamps down on your throat and puffs into your hair as he bottoms out. His other hand cups your stomach as he quickly falls into a rut.

The slapping skin batters your ears and body alike. You try not to hear, not to feel, but that only makes it worse. His fingers flutter down your pelvis and he delves between your lips.

You gasp as he flicks over your clit. You spasm and choke on your whimpers. He swirls his fingers as he hammers into. You feel him in your stomach as your nausea swells again.

You clasp onto his wrist as he toys with your clit. He growls and puts you on your stomach again. His hips pound against your ass as he plays with your clit, tangling your nerves into a ball.

"Fuckkk...." he rasps as his weight flattens you against the mattress. "You're so good, baby."

You bite down and let out a fractured moan as your body surrenders. You cum into the pillow. He does not stop.

You sink down into the darkness, breath clouds you as it traps in the cotton, and you dig your nails into the pillowy cushion. When it ends, you swear it's not. The stinging impact against your ass radiates still.

He slides free with a groan and leaves you empty, dripping with him. That sickly trickle adds to your shame. You don't move. You can't. Whenever you do, it just triggers him, like a snake waiting to strike.

The bed bounces as he gets up. Your heart slows but not beneath that constant rush of terror. Just enough to breathe.

His feet slap the floor as he paces and hums. He clears his throat as he circles like a lion. You brace yourself for another pounce.

"Hi, yes," he says firmly and your eyes snap open. You turn your head and see only his shoulder as he spins on his heel. "I just wanted to report a now show."

You blink and turn onto your back. You groan as you push yourself up, watching him as you sit in the puddle of his desecration. He holds the phone to his cheek and sighs, a convincing show of exasperation.

"Yeah, uh, my cleaner didn't show up today," he repeats, "uh huh. Yes, it's Steve Rogers. That's right." He nod and clicks his tongue. "You haven't heard anything?"

He listens as you crawl to the edge of the bed. He sniffs and tubs his nose, dragging his hand down his chin. "No, no, it's fine. You know, I don't think it was working out.... yeah, uh I'll have to think about it before that. Sure. Yes." You try to parse together the other side of the conversation, "thanks. Alright, yeah, you too."

He hangs up and heaves. He grins and blacks the screen. He tosses it away and faces you.

Your phone buzzes in quick succession. You flinch. He calmly crosses the apartment and picks it up. He brings it to you. The display flashes with the agency's ID.

"Answer it."

"What did you do?" You babble.

He shoves the phone at you. You take it and swallow dryly. You slump and stare at the phone as you put it to your ear.

"Hi--"

"Hello," Jan's voice is rigid with anger. "Where are you?"

"I'm--"

"You know, it doesn't matter. You skipped the day and that's a firing offense--"

"What? I--" You are keenly aware of Steve right beside you.

"After yesterday, I shouldn't be surprised. You wanted out and you think you can just play hooky like a teenager. That's not how this work, hon. Do you understand you may have lost us a prestige client?"

"But--"

"You are fired. I don't have time for this, I have to try to salvage what you've ruined."

The line clicks. You stare at the floor and lower the phone. You bend over your lap and hide your face. It's all so methodical. He planned this. All of it.

You just don't get why. Why you? You put the phone down carelessly and slowly drop onto your side. You out your back to Steve and curl up with the mess on the bed.

"Everything okay?" He taunts.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #maid au #series #drabble #squeaky clean #captain america #avengers #marvel #mcu

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c0llisiion · 3 months ago

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DAY 17 — YUNHO

★ npr, f!reader, spanking, brat!reader , fingering — lmk if i missed any!!; W/C: 467

Hello! This is part of my kinktober list! Day17 is officially out <3

This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.

[ visuals:3 ]

He had you bent over his lap, your ass bare and pussy naked. Your little legs flailing in the air as he spanks your ass repeatedly.

“Why do you always have to misbehave? You know the rules, right?” He slaps your reddened cheeks again.

You squeal in pain and whine. “It was not on purp-“

“Or are you too fucking dumb to remember anything?” He cuts you off. His harsh words ,making you sulk. “Now don’t sulk when you know you’re in the wrong.” His hands smooth over your inflamed skin before slapping it once again. You cry out as the pain starts getting to you.

“Yunnie… it hurtssss!” You whine. “You know your punishments, babygirl. This is what you get for playing with yourself when you know you’re not allowed to.” He said roughly. His voice had an authoritative tone, making you shiver. But you weren’t going to back down!

Truth be told, you did it on purpose. You knew Yunho would get mad at you for that, so you decided to be a little disobeying, Brat.

“Pleaseee… it hurts-“ you whine when he cuts you off again. “Thats it.” His voice was sharp.

Your eyes almost pop out of your sockets as you feel his fingers in your warm pussy walls. Four slender, long fingers shoved into your pussy. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes cross as he starts moving his fingers in you. Curling at your sweet spot.

“Wanna act like a brat? Get treated like so.” You moan out as he spanks your ass. The impact making the flesh jiggle.

His fingers continue its relentless assault on your cunny. Each movement, driving a loud cry out of your mouth.

Yunho spreads your ass cheeks and spits on your slit before continuing to fuck his fingers into you faster. Your sensitive nub was rubbing against the fabric of his pants, sending jolts of pleasure all throughout your body.

You squirm on his lap, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening, signaling that you were close. Your pussy involuntary clamps around his digits.

“Im going to make you cum over and over again. Im gonna make sure I milk every single drop out of you.” Yunhos voice, laced in lust and desire.

Your thighs start shaking at how fast he was plunging his fingers in and out of your cunt. all of sudden, you gush. Your arousal flowing down his wrists. His forearm soaked. One done. God knows how many more to go. “Fucking slut. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

You shook your head, a white lie, and then you feel another sharp spank, followed by two more. “Lying to me, huh? You don’t know what you keep putting yourself into..” he said in a sinister tone, a smirk forming on his face.

Tags~ @cassies-cookies @minghaosimp @unlikelysublimekryptonite @mamnaimiefrankie @marcoswhore @theyadorevalerie @applejackthebest515 @un-knew @salemluvsmusic @ka0ila @atztrsr @kpopsmutty69 @jisunglyricist @targaryenluvs @yuminhyunn @chansramennn @anylady-fics @marihoneywk @mikaelless @paboskzfan @lezleeferguson-120 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @felixsangelicfreckles

If you want to be part of the taglist, lmk! ^^

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yandereunsolved · 8 months ago

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🐉 Yandere Aemond Targaryen w/ platonic yandere Alicent Hightower (part 2—requested) 🐉

↝ (part 1) ᝰ.ᐟ

You had left to do your daily duties after he pulled you aside and confessed his true intentions. You seemed so frightened of him in that moment. You simply asked to be excused and continue your work. Aemond would say it broke his heart, but it did not. It only strengthened his will and resolve to make you his.

He would have to face his mother and ensure your hand in marriage to him. Aemond once said that he would have gladly married Halaena; only now does he see the foolishness in those words. Hopefully, his mother will see the foolishness as well. His heart yearns for no other, and he will slay as many as needed if denied you.

His hand nearly slipped from the knob of her chambers. His heart had nearly halted to a stop. He cannot say he has ever felt a fear quite like this, not even when he was disfigured. His hand absent-mindedly touched his eye patch. A lovelorn grimace appeared on his pale face. He opened the door with another new sense of vigor.

His single step within his mother's chambers commanded great respect, like that of the dragons the Targaryens pridefully ride. The maids looked up in panic at his intrusion. They were fixing the queen's auburn strands and her emerald gown. Even at the cost of a possible scolding or death at the hands of the queen, they quickly left her chambers without so much of an indication of Queen Alicent allowing them.

"Mother," the words hung on his tongue loosely, his expression blank but betraying a hint of anxiety. "I have an urgent matter I wish to speak to you about."

"Yes." Alicent answered quickly, with a wistful warmth evident in her tone.

"Yes?"

"The maid," jealously and vitriolic animosity clear in her curt wording.

The queen stood up and glared at her son. Her steps were quick, and her single action fierce. It took him a moment to register the stinging ache on the edge of his face. His mother had just struck him, as she often did to Aegon.

"Idiot boy. You want to marry that maid, correct? You have gone about it all the wrong way."

His ability to speak left him, and with it was a pit of shame that only grew with the impact of the hit.

"Aemond, speak. Use your words if you want them so badly."

"I—how did you know?" He manages to croak out. He tries to maintain his crumbling visage of indifference.

"They are special. They may have been born among the common, but they are destined for nobility." Alicent hissed. She had to refrain from slapping him again because of such an asinine inquiry.

"That does not answer—"

She cut him off. "Hush, son. I am the queen. I am entitled to know everything that goes on within these walls. I know you have fancied the maid for a long time. You have gone about it all wrong. Still, I will give you their hand under one circumstance. You must woo them and treat them with the care they deserve. If I see you raise your voice or your hand to them, even in a moment of rage, I will make sure they are taken from you."

Aemond's head spins with her agreement, his thoughts scattered around his mind like the bones of Vhagar's victims. He had to clutch onto the side of the wall. His one violet eye narrowed at his mother. He somewhat feared the silly little woman, but he had to regain his ground. Through dawn and dusk, he is a man that has come of age. Asking for your hand through his mother was nothing more than a formality.

"They are mine, regardless. I do not intend them any harm; abuse would be the antithesis of my love for them."

Alicent seemed to stare into his soul and see the truth. Her shoulders relaxed, and she returned to her proper, queenly persona.

"Good boy. Listen to my words, and they shall be yours. I will not hesitate to order your brother to strike you down if you disobey."

"You have made that abundantly clear." He has to restrain himself from rolling his eye. His sapphire one nearly rolled in his socket.

"I will keep an eye on them, which means they will end up visiting my chambers once a week. I am sure I can get them more smitten with you." Alicent chuckles, but it is more like a court member's snarky laugh than that of a proud mother. "That confession of yours, just when the sun rose, was absolutely disastrous."

"Mhm." His lips tightly pursed.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"We are on the same side. There is no need to fruitlessly argue. I am far more clever when it comes to my words anyway."

The queen was already tired from her earlier meetings. Her son had already agreed to her wishes. There was no more need to chastise his prideful words. Such is the way of men.

"You two will make a perfect coupling." She brings her hands up and cradles his face. Her left hand nurses the red mark that she left. The traces of her previous rancor are gone. "I love you, my son."

"As do I."

Aemond nursed his mental and physical wounds that night. He caressed his body and imagined it was your own hands that replaced his. Tears, both delighted and sorrowful, escaped him as the hour of the ghosts approached. His impatience and sexual frustration were at their peak. He needed you to belong to him. He needs you now. He can no longer appease his internal beast with mere glances at your tantalizing skin and fleeting touches.

Queen Alicent convinced you to marry Aemond that night. She invited you to a private dinner and spoke to you with saccharine-coated phrases. You fancied him; you were simply skittish due to the fact he revealed his obsessive tendencies. She assured you that his proclamations were hyperbolic; he was simply ecstatic and impulsive, losing the true meaning of his pure and healthy love.

She's much smarter than Aemond in that aspect. You will never know how deep her motherly love runs for you. You are like the child she always wished she had bore. You did not drink your nights away or fuck whores; you were not the runt of the litter fighting tooth and nail to be considered strong. You were grounded; you may lose yourself in your mind sometimes, but you still had a grasp on reality.

You are perfection, quintessential to the both of them.

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bitterrfruit · 3 months ago

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he wins the fight

couldn't get boxer!Johnny out of my mind so here's a short ramble... cw: blood, aggression

Johnny is one man in the ring, and one man out of it. When he’s your lover, he’s playful, he’s clingy, and he’s possessive to the point of absurdity. Everything he does, he does to please you - you have him so well trained.

But once he straps his heaving fists into those padded gloves, once he hops bare-footed over the ring ropes and joins his opponent in the arena - it’s as if he shifts from human into some blood-thirsty animal, ravaged by aggression and pure testosterone. You watch keenly from the sidelines - the first time Johnny had invited you to spectate - and you don’t recognise him. Guiltily, you find the violent stranger even more enrapturing.

After the first round, a flurry of fists and a cacophony of grunts, he is already dripping with sweat. Tan skin turns wet and glossy under the harsh overhead lights, pulled tight over twitching muscles. His arms are so swollen, so strained that when he flexes his biceps they are as thick as your head. Veins bulge like ropes under his skin, you swear you can see his heartbeat from where you sit.

His shorts hang low on his hips, black and red polyester shimmers like satin. You can see his heavy cock swinging around as he hops on his feet, bouncing his arms, ready for the next blow. His soft pectorals and padded abdominals turn to stone as he throws a rabid fist into his opponent, before he takes a cruel roundhouse to the jaw.

He grunts and groans like a bear with each impact, given and taken, and it makes you suck your lip between your teeth. A spate of blood pours from his nose as a punch strikes, hot and red, it splatters over the grey mat in front of you in a rain of burgundy. It makes you nervous - it hurts you to see him injured so callously, and yet, it has utterly no effect on him. He wipes the blood from his cheek with his shoulder, smears it over his skin like lotion. It fills his teeth and stains his blue mouthguard, and he licks it from under his lip. Returns to the fight like the blow had been a mere kiss.

You can tell, watching him, how much he is holding back. He’s all but throbbing with bestial fury, pent-up and ready to burst. He holds steady until the fourth round, letting his opponent land punch after punch, and the impacts collide with his body in dull thuds as though pulverising a hock of pork. He finishes the fight with an uppercut to his opponent’s head, under the eye socket - such a vicious punch that you almost hear his fist hurling through the air. The dull smack of its collision echoes across the audience, and his opponent lands flat on his back with a bounce, he stays floppy and still.

And as the referee loudly declares a knockout, grabbing Johnny’s fist and raising it into the ceiling - the victor - his eyes fix on you.

His glower is hungry and it burns right through you, it makes your heart flutter anxiously inside your ribs. Eyes lidded, he smiles like a shark when you cheer for him, blood in his teeth; even wider when your celebration falters at his intensity.

When the referee lets him go, he charges in your direction like a bull. Rips off his gloves and dumps them into the corner of the ring, flexing the bruised fingers of his wrapped hands as he jumps over the ropes. Before you can blink he approaches where you sit, taking your pretty jaw in his rough hand and lifting you by it.

You squeak as he yanks your mouth to his, uncaring of the audience, open and salty with sweat - his blood-soaked tongue strokes against yours and your mouth fills with the flavour of metal. He separates his lips from you with a foul slurp and holds his forehead to yours, leaves you panting like a puppy as he hooks his other arm into the arch of your back.

Up close you can see how battered he is; one eye swollen shut, his lids turned big purple pillows, wet lashes peeking from between them. The bridge of his nose is fat and blue, and his lower lip has a deep split right through the soft pink meat.

You suck in a short breath, preparing to ask if he is okay - but he steals a harsh grip of your ass with a frenzied hand, fingers burrowing deep into the soft flesh, and your concern turns to spit on your tongue. He holds your body tight against his, you feel his sweat seep through the thin cotton of your t-shirt.

“Won it just f’you,” he grumbles through a grin, speech slurred and dumb. “Just for you.”

Nodding, you smile weakly, flustered; “You did so good.”

Grinning wider, his teeth turn sharp, and tugs you against him more tightly; you feel his cock twitch against your belly, weighty and insatiable, and it is as solid as iron.

“Ye’re my prize, hen,” he growls, low and savage like the snarl of a wolf. His cruel tone is so unfamiliar, so animal - you feel your cunt fluttering on primal instinct.

His bloody lips move to your cheek, leave a raw red print, and he gnars into your flustered skin; “An' I’m gonna fuck you till you cry.”

#me next johnny #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #cod smut #bitten-fruit #bitterfruit fics

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m1d-45 · 5 months ago

Text

look, don't touch

summary: a minor mishap in the lab leads to a chain of.. interesting events with the second harbinger

word count: 4.8k

-> warnings: reader is badly burned + mentioned blood + somewhat graphic description of injury, dottore + his reputation, you think you're going to die at one point (not serious, in passing, you don't)

-> gn reader (you/yours) and non-canonical segments

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

you weren’t an earnest follower in celestia by any means, but if they could get you out of this then you would happily spend the rest of your life devoted to being a pastor.

mostly because that’s the only way you’d live to see the light of day again, but that was besides the point.

on a good day, working for any harbinger came with a lot of challenges, but you had ended up with the most ruthless and least rational. every time you walked into the doctor’s lab, there was a healthy amount of fear that it would be your last. at least one fight was going on at any given point, trying to read their horrendous handwriting gave you a headache, the constant mood swings and volatile behavior just the tip of the iceberg. on top of that, you also had to deal with being dragged into every idea and whim they had; your technical job title was merely ‘assistant,’ but that was far too narrow a band to cover everything you did that wasn’t in the fine print.

like this. standing with your hands shoved deep into the chest of a skywatcher ruin drake, fumbling for a casing supposedly “just a little further,” if beta’s continued pressuring was anything to go by. he was standing somewhere behind you, theta on the other side of the drake trying to figure out how to pry off the thick bolts sticking out of its spine. theta you could understand. he was mostly machine himself, so it made sense he’d be the one to pull apart the touchier components, but beta? beta, fussing with the wings of the drake, doing a whole lot of nothing while you shoved your very human and non-replaceable arms into a tangled mess of gears and wiring. you’d already gotten burned once, a thick droplet of oil falling onto your wrist from above that theta apologized profusely for, and you weren’t eager to do so again.

sure, if your arms did get ripped from their sockets you’re fairly certain you’d receive prosthetics in return, but that didn’t excuse anything. just because they were capable of amazing feats of science didn’t mean you wanted to be another test subject.

“you can do it,” beta ‘encouraged,’ leaning on your shoulder and not at all making it more difficult to strain for the part he wanted. “you saw the plans.”

of course you did, you were the one that had insisted he look them over again before ripping into the machine. behind the chest plate, behind the core, straight to the back was a wide bundle of wires. in the very center was a segmented strip of chained together casings shaped vaguely like dumbbells, supposedly easy enough to pull out. what was inside? who knew. probably beta. you’d found the wiring just fine—not just fine, you’d scraped yourself along far too many gears and raw edges to be entirely intact—but there was nothing inside it. you picked out the thinner wires one by one, and while you’d succeeded in finding the structure they were supposed to be in, it was empty. yanking it up had rewarded you with a bruise on your forearm and nothing in the slot below it, so you fed it back down and prepared to pull.

“please behave yourself, beta.” theta’s voice comes from higher than it was last time, a loud bang from above you reverberating through the entire machine. you try not to think about it.

“i’m supervising-”

“i’m supposed to be supervising,” you interrupt, gripping two bars of the structure and preparing yourself. “i don’t get paid enough for this.”

you breathe, your grip tightens, and you pull with everything you have. above you, something pops, and the frame in your hands is suddenly very slack. you don’t even have a chance to feel for the capsules before something hot and burning poured on your arms, a thick oil that clung to your skin and refused to leave. beta moved quicker than you could think, grabbing your sides and practically carrying you away from the machine. the sludge was forming a wide pool on the floor now, a dark lumpy black that stretched all the way up to your elbows and made you painfully aware of that fact. beta had grabbed a roll of mechanic’s towels and roughly wiped off the excess, the drag of the napkin on raw skin making you hiss. it left a reddish residue behind, though the sight of your hands quickly blurred with tears.

“theta, we’re leaving.” beta puts one hand between your shoulders and quickly pushes you out of the project room, a sliding door opening into the upper lab. you blink out your tears as best you can, mostly relying on beta to guide you past the maze of tables and machinery. this section of the lab didn’t have a medbay since the segments allowed up here never needed one, so it meant you had to walk all the way down to the lower lab for first aid. how fun. you weren’t keen on letting this stuff stay on you for any longer than it had to, but since when was any dottore known for his safety measures?

even in your limited vision, you see more heads turn toward you than usual as the door hisses open. beta don’t stop to pay them any attention, walking you straight through to the door marked with a red cross, hand tightening in your shirt when you stumble on the slight step.

“careful,” he says, like you’d ever be in this situation of your own accord.

the faucet hisses and so do you, gritting your teeth at the pressure on your hands. you blink rapidly, struggling to find the soap before he puts it right in front of you, pressing down the top and letting it fall into your hands. your skin is bubbled and angry, shaking hands and blurred vision making it impossible to figure out where anything was. instead of doing anything remotely helpful, beta just stands at your side like the world’s worst lightpost, providing no insight and only unnerving you further with his presence. the only indication he’s not lost in some manic daydream is occasional mumbling, though that may actually be evidence the more you think about it. you’re not sure how much time passes, just running water over your skin to stave off the pain. eventually, he sighs, “fine, i’ll go,” a nonsensical statement you almost don’t notice wasn’t meant for you before he speaks a little louder.

“i need to go, but i’ll get kappa for you.”

like he wasn’t already there to see you walk in. “sure.”

he lingers, then leaves. you continue washing cold water over your skin to keep the burning at bay, knowing full well its a superficial solution. best case, you’re burned severely and are either fired for incompetence or made to work through it. worst case, whatever chemical that was made its way into your bloodstream through one of the many scrapes you got and you were about to drop dead from a heart attack any moment now. neither option was rather thrilling.

your palm can’t take much more of the water pressure, but the thought of trying to twist the valve off is equally unappealing. pain, or slightly adjacent pain: a typical day in dottore’s lab. you never thought you’d be on the receiving end.

the door doesn’t creak as it’s pushed open, but the sound of boots on the floor gives it away. who you can only assume is kappa turns off the water, blotting up the excess on your arms with a soft towel that still felt too harsh.

“i know, i know…”

you watch through blurred vision—was that the cause of your headache, or was it the stress?—as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small tin. he moves delicately, barely a whisper across your skin as he spreads the salve over your arms. soft gel pads his fingers, a cushion of translucent silicone over everything sharp edge or hard plate. you could barely pick out the seams between the layers of his hand, each of them slipping and melding together in one fluid movement. the salve leaves a cool numbness wherever it touches, your pain swiftly becoming a faint memory. you’re somewhat surprised by how quickly it works, though you probably shouldn’t be. if they could figure out delusions, they could figure out an effective topical pain reliever. he gently twists your arm just enough to see if he’s missed anywhere, not pulling any of the irritated skin. once satisfied, he makes quick work of wrapping it, white bandage spiraling up your arm faster than you can blink. he tapes it shut just below your elbow, and the process begins anew.

there’s not much else to do but watch him work. your tears are finally starting to recede enough that you can see clearer, gauging the damage on your arms. it’s… well, terrible, if you’re being frank, skin peeling and blood smearing into the pale beige salve. you're definitely going to blister, and there’s no way you’ll be able to so much as pick up a pen in this condition. hopefully prime accounts for that when he decides your next shifts, though anything you do is realistically going to hurt. you’re pretty useless like this, even as a proper supervisor you couldn’t exactly take notes. you don’t have an ancient supercomputer in your brain like kappa or theta, and even the most basic of tasks involved your hands. no matter how good kappa’s medicine, there’s no way you’ll be in well enough shape by tomorrow.

“you’re worried,” kappa says, neither a question or a statement. an explanation, maybe, but to who?

“pardon?”

he ‘looks’ up (you’re fairly certain he only does that for your benefit) though his hands don’t pause, the red diamond on his face plate pulsing faintly. like his hands, the seam between black metal and bluish silicone is so small it might as well not be there. the silence stretches for longer than you know what to do with, long enough that he finishes with your arm, wiping off his hands on the towel from before. “your shirt has holes in it,” he says like it explains anything, ‘looking’ back down to wrap your hand. you’re able to watch this time, the roll weaving around your fingers and hand before being quickly spun along your arm, perfectly taut. he cuts it with his nail and tape dispenses out of his thumb to seal the end. he lingers there for a moment, thumb pressed on your inner elbow, before finally backing away. “you should change. there’s a closet behind you that should contain a spare shirt if you’d like."

you look down, noticing that he’s right. some of the goop splashed onto your shirt, leaving a smattering of holes. the skin beneath was fine, thankfully, but he was right. definitely not lab-safe, though not many of the actual substances you worked with were safe either. you were surely under-qualified to be handling khaenri’ahn machinery.

that’s beside the point. you turn around, finding the cabinet he’s talking about easily. shirts, pants, even a spare set of shoes. they seem to be mostly for the younger segments, but you pick out a shirt your size easily enough. you check behind you, seeing kappa turned away politely, and carefully pull off your shirt. you put it aside, silently thanking whoever decided to leave the shirts unbuttoned in the cabinet. probably kappa. it’s softer than you expect it to be, smooth blue that you’d almost mistake for some sort of fine silk if you didn’t know how resilient it was. every one of the segments wore them, fire, acids, and even beta’s occasional scalpel all deflected as if they were never there. it probably would have survived the corrosive from earlier, really, which makes you a bit bitter. the buttons close easily even with your limited dexterity, leaving neither bumps nor gaps down the front because prime was too good to be caught with a straight shot to his heart. if he was worse at his job it might be easier to be upset, but you couldn’t feel anything but begrudging respect about the man that hid a tie in the cuff to keep the sleeves secure around your elbow.

not for the first time, you wish you were given your own designated set. that would mean acknowledging you as more than an assistant, though, and prime seemed to be allergic to calling you even that. it was always either your name or ‘help’ with such a specific lilt that you couldn’t even describe it, something unique to whatever thoughts bounced between the precious few marbles still left in his head.

you liked to think you were more than just a standard helper. if nothing else, then the fact that you’d been working with him for as long as you had with your sanity intact had to mean something. according to rumors of payroll records from the ninth’s workers, the longest a previous assistant had lasted was barely a week over six months, and you had survived in this lab for more than a few years without getting fired, killed, or worse.

that could always end today, though. ruin drakes were endemic to sumeru and had to be carried across half of teyvat to make it to prime’s door, let alone the time spent finding and disabling them. failing a simple task on the first day was likely a perfectly fine reason to have your head on a pike. never mind that it wasn’t your fault, that it wasn’t your idea, or that you were grossly underqualified to supervise disassembly of khaenri’ahn machinery in the first place. since when was any segment known for his rational thinking and level-headed nature? fun joke.

you pick up your discarded shirt and thumb one of the many holes with a sigh. the edges were coarse and likely would only worsen in the wash, so there goes your uniform. the least of your worries, really.

“prime wants to talk to you,” kappa starts, drawing your attention towards him. his hands are folded neatly in front of him, mechanical voice slow and almost hesitant. you never knew a segment to be unsure of himself before, though you suppose prime is as good a reason as any. “but i can tell him you need rest. i understand today has been stressful for you.”

that was one way to put it. putting off talking with prime and going back to your quarters to avoid the problem for twelve hours sounded ideal, but you weren’t a fool. if prime was asking you to see him immediately after the incident, he had something to say, and denying a harbinger was a surefire route to whatever afterlife awaited you.

“thank you, but i’ll go see him now.”

his shoulders visibly fell, but he nodded. you dropped your shirt in the trash can as you followed him out, again ignoring the various other segments scattered throughout the lab. none stopped whatever they were doing, but you could feel their eyes on you, see their blue hair twist in your periphery. they’ve probably seen injuries far worse, and yours were already covered up… it was probably kappa, really. he rarely left phi’s side for any longer than he had to.

kappa input his access code without looking. or, you could only assume he wasn’t looking; even though his head was turned toward you, it didn’t mean anything. which was worse, that he could act without looking like he was, or that he acted like he needed to look?

his finger hesitates over the enter key. “you’re nervous,” he says again, this time actually feeling like it was directed at you. you never asked about before and probably never will. “he doesn’t seem upset at you.”

you bite your tongue to keep from being mean. you know he means the best—he was literally coded to be an empathetic caretaker—but prime wasn’t known for broadcasting his heart on his bloodstained sleeves. he could seem anything he wanted and it never had to reflect what he was actually feeling.

“thanks,” you reply instead, and he nods, the door sliding upward with a hiss.

the upper lab is empty. all the equipment is still there, of course, glassware and sealed jars littering the countertops, but all of the chairs are pushed in and vacant. nobody besides you walks along the tile, and the hallways beyond this section are empty too. stretches of white floor and steel doors your only company, the fluorescent lights buzzing above you.

it’s unnerving. have you written a will yet?

you turn to the right, towards prime’s office. it looks like all the rest, with a clear plastic bin hanging next to it and a keypad below that. you knock with your entire fist, two bangs that are a little too loud on your end but likely barely audible on his. his doorway is a foot thick, a well-defined border between the harsh lighting of the hall and his deceptively welcoming office.

whoever the fatui hired as interior designer deserved a raise. a nearly black wood bookshelf covers the entire left wall, volumes packed together with remarkable efficiency. on the right, a large map takes up most of the space, notes and string marking plans you don’t try to read. shelves of files and pinned up diagrams surround it in equally dense displays. the floor is a well-buffed dark wood that clicks under his heels as he rounds his desk, silent. the pristine white papers spread across his desk are the brightest thing in the room, interrupted only by the backs of the two chairs in front of his desk. he doesn’t pull one out, nor tell you to sit, only approaching you quietly. you can’t remember the last time someone dressed business casual was intimidating, but there’s a first time for everything. his gloves are a thick mystery fabric that barely a suggest a touch on your arm, blue palms carefully following the bumps and valleys of the bandage. you raise it, letting him inspect kappa’s work wordlessly. he doesn’t comment on the shake to your hand you’re certain he can feel, and in fact doesn’t give much of any indication at all. his face is unreadable behind the mask, a detail you’ve yet to determine as a good thing or not.

“theta analyzed the substance that fell on you.” his voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard before, like he’s uncertain about breaking the silence. he doesn’t let go of your hand. “it was mostly oil, yes, but it also included a mixture of slime condensate and some sort of elemental anchor. his working theory is that when the core collapsed, the slime mixture first spilled into the oil line, then that burst. the anchor dissolved into the oil, releasing its energy, and the slime helped it stick.”

dottore has a reputation well known across the entirety of teyvat and beyond. he was irrational, heretical, setting up seemingly nonsensical lines of dominoes that led up to a crushing wave of death. he did not care, he did not feel, he held no mercy. his office was more mystifying than the abyss, and a non-zero amount of his subjects had chosen the latter rather than stay. within the fatui, within his very lab, this fog did not lift. even theta and his khaenri’ahn brain couldn’t reliably track the thoughts behind prime’s actions. that thought at least made you feel a little better, because there was no way in a thousand years that you could ever rationalize prime explaining himself to you.

“you have experienced, in essence, a severe chemical burn.” finally, he lets go, stepping back and turning away to dig through the files on his desk, the rustling sounding too loud after he spoke so.. did you dare say softly? your skin prickles where he touched and you don’t know what to feel.

he comes back with an inch-thick stack of stapled papers and a pen, holding out both. you don’t dare flip up the blank cover page yet. “you will stay with kappa and phi until you are better, and follow whatever treatment plan he prescribes. you will fill one of these out three times a day: at morning, at noon, and at night. am i understood?”

paperwork? was that all? a lot of it, certainly—was there even enough time in the day to complete three of these stacks?—but far less than you were hoping for, let alone expecting. regardless, you nod, “when would you like me to start disassembling the ruin drake?”

the silence stretches. you can feel his eyes on you and you’re certain the weight isn’t phantom, even despite the mask. you run over your words again, searching for fault and finding none. you’d hoped by presuming you’d be working again you might save some of his anger, but did he not want you to? was that something he expected you to know already? did he not want the drake disassembled at all? the delicate wiring was certainly ruined by the waterfall of whatever anchor he said fell on you, and even if theta had somehow managed to salvage it there was no way it could be up to par.

“what?”

ever a man of few words. his fangs catch the light and you regret talking more with every second that goes by. “i assume you can no longer run any of your tests on it, so-”

“when did i mention the drake?” he shakes his head and crosses his arms with a surprisingly neutral sigh. “i give you explicit instructions to stay with kappa, yet barely a moment later you’re talking like you’re going to do something else. here i thought you showed promise…”

his words hold no bite. his arms, though crossed, are not taut with anger. you liked to think you’d gotten pretty good at being able to read the various segments’ moods, but that meant you’d either severely miscalculated or prime was teasing you, and you couldn’t decide which was worse.

you were lost, and the silence was continuing for uncomfortably long. “i’ll.. go see him right away, then?”

you can’t keep your voice from tilting into a question, having wandered neck-deep into unfamiliar territory, but he blessedly doesn’t comment on it. he waves you away with a stiff nod and you half-bow before turning around, not stopping until you’re safely down the hall and in the main lab with two doors between you. you leaning against the cool wall and stare at the packet in your hands. paperwork in exchange for an indefinite time off proper work sounded more than uncharacteristic to you, especially when a prized machine was damaged in the process. you turn over the pen kept beneath your thumb, seeing the ink inside slosh around within the glass chamber. it was one of his pens, not the standard practically indestructible ones kept around the labs. maybe that was why you were thrown off, he just really lost it this time. was this the calm before the storm?

you don’t stick around to find out.

the upper lab is still empty, an eerie feeling following you as you walk past the lines of tables and equipment. all of the actual chemicals are put away, which is a little reassuring, but it’s still wrong. even if the others are out, at least theta is normally sat at his desk. you walk a little quicker.

kappa is obviously awaiting your arrival, only idly watching phi mesh together gears on the floor—isn’t that a safety hazard for someone so young?—and perking up the moment you walk in. he waves you over to him, sitting on a large couch in phi’s play area. you cross the striped tape and enter the protected space, feeling only slightly like a criminal seeking sanctuary. kappa is sitting with feet propped a small coffee table in front of him, one you set down papers and pen on before joining him.

he notices the different pen. you can tell by the way his glance turns into a stare, ‘eye’ locked onto it with a slightly brighter glow. he sits dead still, transfixed… then his chest rises in another faux breath, his attention shifting to you instead. “see? not too bad.”

“i have to complete three of those a day.”

his head tilts, smile growing. “i’m glad to see he’s finally acting in accordance in his thoughts.”

before you can even begin to dissect whatever that meant, phi calls his attention from the floor. kappa’s eye flashes as he takes his feet from the table, standing.

“forgive me, i have to go. why don’t you get started on your paperwork?”

there it is. you almost forgot he was an identical copy of the guy who made you dig through a ruin machine because ‘it’ll be good work experience.’

you settle the stack of paper on your lap, uncapping the pen and flipping away the cover page to reveal the dense form beneath. your name, easy enough, then the date below that. next was the… approximate time of injury? why had he given you an incident report? he probably slipped it in on top of the other stuff for filing purposes, though you don’t know why when he would have gotten all of that information from theta. maybe he wanted to see if you’d lie? you may have willingly signed up to work under him, but you weren’t so stupid as to lie to a harbinger.

you described what you saw as best you could while not having any sort of medical training beyond ‘blood should stay inside the body,’ then treatment from kappa. your hand was already beginning to ache a bit from having to hold the pen, but it was tolerable enough when the page was finished in less than a minute. you let it relax a bit as you flipped the page, skimming the questions. your name, of course, then the date…

you flip the first page back to double-check what you already knew. they were the same. did he think you’d run out of space? it couldn’t be a fluke, surely—was one for kappa? questions fill your head, ones you ultimately decide to shake away. whatever the case, you didn’t need to touch this page, so you moved onto the next.

the next was the same. so was the next. you used your thumb to flip through the entire stack rapidly, confirming that yes, the entire packet are one-page incident reports, what’s going on? prime’s not careless enough to make a mistake like this. maybe beta, trying to one-up his past brilliant idea by sabotaging your work, or perhaps the goop had sprayed up to theta and fried his circuits.

“uh, kappa…”

he looks up from the elaborate string of gears phi has set up, smiling. “are you done? if you are, you should come over here and see what phi’s made.”

the younger boy visibly perks up, red eyes shining. his hands tap against the floor eagerly, “would you? please?”

you pointedly look at the stack, peeling up half of it so kappa can see your dilemma, but he only laughs in response. “come, dear. let’s leave that for later.”

you hesitate, unsure. there’s no reason kappa would have to lie to you. he has a direct line to prime in his head and was probably told to make sure you stayed on task, so… if he doesn’t see a problem with it, then that must mean this is how it’s meant to be, right? carefully, you set down the stack on the coffee table, capping prime’s pen and leaving it on top. prime had, for whatever reason, given you an unexpected out.

so you take it.

#context beta is webtorre kappa is a see-through video game controller theta is fully robotic and phi is like 7 or something #genshin #genshin impact #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore segments #genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #where's cig anon. they were right its been like 6 months or whatever and ive had my arc #do i like him as a person? fuck no. have i spent an embarrassing amount of time fleshing out headcanons for him? yeah.

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my-castles-crumbling · 7 months ago

Text

Not Jealous

@wolfstarbingo2024 - prompt: enemies to lovers - warnings: mildly explicit (is that a thing?) - rating: explicit (minors DNI) - words: 923 - link

Sirius Black was the most horrible, annoying, disrespectful roommate on the planet. Since Remus had started living with him three months ago at the start of University, Sirius had irked him to no end by leaving his things all over their space, staying up until ungodly hours playing videogames, bringing back more people than he could count to sleep with, and being the most attractive human on the goddamn planet.

Well- the last one might not be annoying per se. But wrapped in with the others, it was the most infuriating of all.

So when Remus stayed up until 2am writing a paper that took most of his brainpower and all of his patience, Sirius stumbling in with a tall tan man with dark hair, giggling together, was the last fucking straw.

"Sirius I don't give a single flying fuck if you want to fuck this guy in his room or on the roof," Remus said lowly, hands balled into fists, "But you will not fuck him in our room."

The man, who looked like he had stuck his finger in a light socket with the way his hair stood on end, immediately laughed. "I'd rather not fuck either of you if I have the choice, man. Regulus would be a bit pissed."

Sirius laughed as well, starting to retort, but Remus was still too mad to enjoy whatever inside jokes they were sharing. "Just get the fuck out, alright?"

And the other boy, who didn't seem to be capable of seriousness or remorse, simply bid Sirius goodnight and left, yelling loudly as he went.

But as soon as he left, Sirius turned, his face falling flat. "What the fuck made you think you can act like that?" he asked, storms in his eyes.

But Remus was done. "Me? What about you? Treating our room like your personal trash can, staying up until all hours, bringing back god knows how many people to fuck you?"

But Sirius only smirked at Remus's last statement. "Wow, Remus. I didn't realize me hooking up with people had that much of an impact on you. Are you jealous?"

Remus felt blood rush in his ears at the question, and he used all of his sense to resist punching Sirius. "No, Sirius," he denied through a clenched jaw. "I'm not-"

But Sirius interrupted him, taking a step closer. "It's too bad if you're not," he said softly, his eyes going strangely wide. "Jealousy looks kind of good on you." And as he said it, he kind of tilted his head to the side, smirking and biting his lip as if challenging Remus to react. To understand what he was saying.

It was like a bomb went off. Like all of the annoyance and fury and tension built up and culminated into an eruption, and suddenly, without even thinking about it, Remus lunged forward, grabbing Sirius and pinning him to the bed behind him, the entirety of their bodies pressed together, his mouth by Sirius's ear, the other man gasping at the quick contact. "I'm not jealous," Remus insisted, hands grabbing at Sirius's hips hard.

"P-prove it," Sirius nearly moaned, eyes wide and pupils blown with sudden lust.

So Remus had no choice but to roughly reach down, cupping the other man through his pants, groaning as he felt the hardness there. "If I was jealous," he murmured, squeezing just a bit as Sirius threw his head back and keened in pleasure, "I would fuck you, right here on the bed."

"Yes," Sirius mumbled, eyes closed and hands on Remus's biceps loosening as he fell apart a bit under Remis's grasp.

"If I was jealous," Remus continued, licking roughly at his palm and then slipping his hand under the band of Sirius's sweatpants, grabbing his length without thinking of being gentle, "I would open your arse up with my tongue, and watch while you screamed my fucking name."

"Remus," Sirius exhaled almost silently, barely keeping himself up on legs that were surely not working properly with the way Remus was working his cock with his hand.

"If I was jealous," Remus repeated, teasing his thumb over Sirius's leaking tip, inhaling as Sirius moaned with the movement, Remus's own cock twitching at the noises the shorter man made, "I would shove my huge cock so far into you, I'd make you come without touching you."

"Please," Sirius begged, his knees giving out, now, his expression completely fucked out as Remus moved his hand over his cock faster and with more purpose, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"But baby" he cooed into Sirius's ear, reveling in the gasping sounds he was making, "I'm not jealous. So I won't." And then, grinning triumphantly, Remus stopped, removing his hand from his pants and staring down at Sirius, who collapsed on the bed, looking like he had just been told that Christmas was cancelled.

It took all of Remus's self-control to stroll into their adjoining bathroom before he shoved his own pants down to his knees, grabbed his own aching cock, and worked it over roughly, not even mothing to keep his moans quiet. And, less than a minute later, he came, loudly yelling, "F-Sirius!" as he did so.

But not loudly enough to drown out the noise of Sirius yelling his name as he came at nearly the same time on the other side of the door.

And he realized that yes, Sirius was annoying and infuriating and disrespectful. But fuck, him being attractive was definitely not a bad thing.

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sujitkumar-us · 2 years ago

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Facom Tools: Unleashing Expertise And Precision In Every Application

In the vast realm of tools and equipment, FACOM is a beacon of excellence and innovation. With a rich heritage spanning several decades, FACOM has consistently delivered cutting-edge solutions to meet the evolving needs of professionals across industries. This blog post explores the world of Facom Tools, highlighting their exceptional quality, unparalleled performance, and diverse products.

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FACOM's Expert line of hand tools represents the pinnacle of precision engineering. Crafted with meticulous attention to detail, Expert By Facom Tools offer accuracy, ergonomic design, and durability. From wrenches and screwdrivers to pliers and hammers, each tool in the Expert range undergoes rigorous testing and quality control to ensure it meets the highest standards. Professionals across industries rely on Expert by FACOM hand tools to deliver consistent performance in every task.

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#proto hand tools #expert by facom hand tools #stanley proto hand tool #work benches vices and workshop furniture #aerospace & rfid tool control #non sparking & sparkless tools #pneumatic impact tools dubai #impact and hand sockets dubai #ingersoll rand pneumatic solutions dubai #pneumatic impact tools port harcourt

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otterloreart · 2 months ago

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What's in the Box?

PONY PONIES IN THE BOX

If you've been following along you may have seen that @queenofsquids printed the Takara-inspired BJD last week, both in a "mini" test form and a full-sized one. The full-sized one was supposed to be in yellow, but the pure yellow resin turned out to be a more orangey tone. She incredibly generously offered to send me the orange pony BJD

And then

She incredibly incredibly again generously sent not only the little test takara-bjd in grey BUT ALSO printed my original takara 3D model and sent that?! This is so unbelievably kind and generous. I was so surprised when I opened them all!

I'm not sure if you were all aware but I actually dont have a print of the original "Takara duplicate" doll. I did get the seapony PLA printed at the library (and it was my first ever 3D print!).

For my second print, I got the Dollightful bunny doll printed because I wanted to have experience with jointed dolls made by other people before I put more complex models out. So I figured it would be a while before I got the chance to see my newer models printed.

So like its actually so kind of @queenofsquids to send these but also it's really meaningful to me because I started the takara project where I became obsessed with them over a year ago. It's so amazing to see this thing that frankly I spent so much time fiddling with (even if there are some imperfections; more about that later) and hold it in my hands 🥹 I just keep looking at them and smiling

Also I immediately stole the clothes off my NaNaNa dolls and put them on mini-takara-bjd. They're a little short but fit pretty well!

Some design notes/planned adjustments under cut

-The neck and arm balls are definitely too blocky, this doesn't impact the movement but it is very visually obvious

-Queenofsquids mentioned this but the arm bean is too big and gets stuck in the arm sockets.

^^ These two issues are the most obvious upon brief inspection but are also easy to fix so I'm gonna put out a version ASAP adjusting the file. Call it the version Version 1 Hotfix. Both of these should be fixed in the existing models with a bit of sanding.

-The legs are like just a touch too blocky and I think you can also see lines in the head and chest areas ;-; I think this would depend on the printer, like it might be fine in PLA due to the lower resolution. This can also be buffed out but I can adjust it with some effort

-> I think the blockiness issues come down to the fact I was trying to make the models not too high resolution because then the file size is massive, can't import into cura properly, and even slows down *my* beefy computer. that's why it might take a bit for me to adjust all of these pieces, especially the legs because they have a lot of booleans that lag blender. basically i leaned in the other direction and went a bit too far with some pieces.

-legs are very thin at the bottom (ran into this issue with the dollightful bunny doll too and had to redo quite a bit actually to make it neat)

-The bottom of the heart on the knee in particular is an imperfect fit. I was getting errors in Cura because of some issues related to the knee so I had to remesh it, if you'll remember, so I will need to maybe go in and redo that one :/

-The line around the eyes could be a touch more pronounced, its supposed to be somewhat stylized eyelashes

-I need to play with the arms/legs more to figure out potential issues with the existing joints. But they do at least work and hold poses. I'm not sure if people would prefer anything more complicated like locking joints or if this level of poseability is acceptable

Other things I want to experiment with

-hand pose variation

-nose/mouth variations? it is actually kind of funny to imagine you could switch the expression out to a little :o face or a c: or :3 type of thing

-pegasus/unicorn/fluffy hoof variants like i had planned before

so much stuff :0 and I haven't even finished bunny doll, although at least her paint job is basically done. Once I string the big BJD I can also test posing.

#3D print #resin #ball-jointed doll #wip #anthro doll

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cherri3berri3s · 1 month ago

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I Got Law ┃Ticci Toby x Reader

Warning: possible relationship codependency + love/hate qualities

This is me testing the waters by experimenting with the poetic nature of my writing while trying to make it feel human.

Synopsis: You're awakened one morning to see your boyfriend shaken with doubt. What's on his mind? (Toby's Perspective)

Word Count: 1.1k + words Category: Hurt/Comfort (depending on how you view it)

Part II → "When Today Comes"

I can't seem to escape it.

The insufferable feeling that lies within me,

Each morning until I can feel no more.

Breathing in the scent of her skin, only to exhale in dread.

I wonder what lies beneath mine, and why it leaves dead.

"Toby?" her soft voice patiently called. Not bothering to race against the pattering of rain on the dull window sill. "Why are you standing in the corner, baby?"

Tired and unaware was her tone. Leaving me to turn and see the light that lay on her face. Kissing the shadows and soothing the creases, declaring her one among the clouds.

It's early morning and yet, she looked beyond spectral. Hauntingly so.

"I was thinking," I say

"Well come here baby," her body turns to shift. Hands inviting me back to the bed. "Come think with me."

"That's tempting," a chuckle presses the air, escaping my lips in the cold dense room. My eyes flutter as hard as they can, to kill the feeling of the dream I feel stuck within. "But I think this is for me alone."

"Why?" she whispered. The warmth in her voice elevated against the calm of the room.

"Because it wants me," I remark lowly, mimicking her quiet sound. "It wants me to do really bad things."

"Like what?"

"I'm scared to say."

Her hand walks slowly over to caress her temple, massaging the stress from her eyes as it bats away sleep.

I'm sleepless too, and for both of us, I know I'm the reason. I can't help but rationalize with the sentiment, causing more delay in what I know is unredeemable.

"You can hate me y'know." The pupils of her eyes fall directly onto mine, digesting the words my lips had spilled " I want you to."

"And we both know I can't, so come back to bed my love." her voice ravenous and still all at once, feeding into the desires I've desperately wanted to keep at bay.

Each small step more massive in impact than the last. My throat choking on the words in a vacant effort to force them out. Taking my place at the edge of the bed, I couldn't bring myself to lay beside a woman this in love with me. My own rendition of subjective purity in contrast to my previous wrongdoings.

A life worth taking.

"It's monstrous what I do," the words met with silence. My eyes watching the steadiness of her breathing, entranced by its movement in the white tank top she wore as her chest heaved relentlessly."And we both know I like it."

Resting into the souls of her sockets, my eyes stare. Breathless, and more mature than I've ever been, I continue, "And I know you like me, but what will that cost."

"My life," her eyes, soft and lonely gaze longingly at mine. Loving the mess that carried its burden on my shoulders. With a small nod, she spoke "I hope it does."

My head begins to shake, quickening in pace rather than facing denial.

"I can't-"

"It's okay if you want to,"

"I couldn't."

"I won't be mad-"

"And that's why I can't do it!"

My voice becoming strict as it raised in sound. Demanding anything other than the fate I was bound to hear, the hurt I was bound to take.

She wants what she expects of me; lack of control and the underlying faith in destruction waiting to take its place. I see now that I'm not willing to be that, not to her.

" You're scared because you want us to be different," she said, her demeanor just as it had been before. "And you know we're not."

"But you have a chance baby,"

"There is no chance without you." she exasperates, a small smile finding home on her features. "It's cold my love, please lay with me."

I feel my muscles involuntarily twitch, blinking hard before my eyes lay focused. Unmoving from the corner of the room they've fallen on to avoid interaction. Smooth and gentle hands run over my skin. Even lighter kisses planted on my shoulder in protest.

She doesn't see the spark that clicks, nor the cogs that turn with it. She doesn't hear what they say and can sleep peacefully not knowing it either. All of what she is, has the life and humanity I've come to lack. And I hate myself for taking as much of it as I have.

"You don't get it," I say. Her head rested on my cold shoulder as her grip tightens around my waist. "You don't fucking get it, do you." My eyes remained avoidant, twitching in anticipation with the growing intensity of the situation.

Her arms cradling me with the ever growing silence and rain traveling amongst our ears. My arm makes way for an itchy feeling of something wet, nimbly running down. Giving me the chance to smoothly glance over to catch the culprit. Her face void of any joyful expression. Expectant and apathetic as tears fall like crystals, bleeding from her eyes. My skin threatens to shudder, without a doubt effected by the lady beside me.

"I think…" I uttered, "I think I wanna turn myself in."

"Cause you think that's what you need?" she whispers. Our eyes unwavering and attentive to anything but eachother.

"Because I think I might hurt you next." I reply. Not bearing the burden of watching her tears fall, barely a sound to be uttered in the process. "I want to kill you. Eat a part of you; become a part of you." In one swift look, my eyes finally see hers. "and I'm gonna love it. Steadying my thoughts for what I'm bound to say next,

"I'm sick Y/n," Listening with much scrutiny, her tongue remains tied. “Sick people belong with other sick people," I claim, my hand runs along her face in a fast fashion. "I wanna do things to you, and I hope you won't let me."

I continue, "But if I can't trust that you won't, that I won't, then there's only one place for me to go."

I feel cowardly, the laughable kind that deserves to be shared. Bastard enough to not want to die, stupid enough to ridicule the thought.

I can't beat the feeling that there's somewhere I should be, knowing she can't be there with me.

"Damn you Rogers," a peep comes from her mouth, dry and monotonous as I'd never heard it.

My hand reals her head towards my lips. Kissing away the damage as much as I could.

"Vogel, oh mein Vögelchen, ich schwöre." I silently cry, my grasp firmly on her head as I pull it to my chest.

"Es tut mir so leid-

So leid."

This is a quick upload before I release final parts ii + iii of "Bull in the Heather" the Ticci Toby x Reader series I have been working on and the Ben Drowned x Reader shit I've been meaning to throw out of the drafts.

You're free to reblog all you like!

#༝༚༝༚#ticci toby x reader #toby rogers #toby rogers x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby imagines #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x y/n #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta fanfic #tobias erin rogers #fanfic #fanfiction #ticci toby x female reader #tobias rogers #slenderverse

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wolken-himmel · 2 years ago

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In which Jade and Floyd drag (Y/n) to the Octavinelle dorm in the middle of the night. Why? Azul is suffering from an especially bad nightmare.

Upon waking up, the prefect is there to comfort him.

Request by @yourlovelyyves.

"Good evening, (Y/n)."

A velvety voice eased you out of your peaceful slumber, much to your utter dismay. The night had been silent and void of any disturbances prior. Without much effort, you swatted away at the hand that latched into your arm. The assailant remained persistent however, which drew an annoyed grumble from your lips.

"Hm... go back to sleep, Grim," you muttered under your breath. Even after you had rolled onto your other side, the fingers wouldn't cease poking your side.

A disgruntled sigh escaped your lips, you slowly forced your eyes to flutter open. Your eyelids were as heavy as lead and puffy with sleepiness. Yet, all that drowsiness vanished as soon as your eyes met a bright pair of heterochromatic ones.

"Peek-a-boo! It's me! Floyd." A large grin was etched onto his face.

By then, your eyes were as wide as saucers and threatened to fall out of their sockets. Miraculously, you managed to keep the beginnings of a scream in the back of your throat. Adrenaline rushed through your veins. How could it not? Two large shadows loomed over your bed, only the outlines of their sharp features lit by the moon light.

Unmistakably, these shadows were Floyd and Jade.

"Uh... what are you two doing here?" you asked and rubbed your eyes awkwardly. "It's like... 3 AM right now."

"It's a long story," Jade began. Without any regard for your comfort whatsoever, he deftly snatched the blanket off your body. "We shall explain on the way."

A shriek escaped your lips. Without wasting any time, your drowsy limbs tried to regain possession of your blanket. But, with his height and long arms, you failed miserably. His brother merely laughed at your feeble attempt and uncoordinated struggling. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" you grumbled under your breath. The last weaves of warmth fled you by now. "I really need my sleep..."

Floyd clicked his tongue playfully. "I get it, shrimpies need their beauty sleep. We respect that, but we also kinda don't. And this is an emergency, anyway." Without allowing you to answer, he extended his hands and tried to grab you. "So c'mere, Shrimpy." A silly chuckle escaped his lips while he moved in on you.

"Let go of me!" you wailed when he wrapped his arms around you. Without breaking a sweat, he hauled you into the air and threw you over his shoulder. "I need my sleep!"

Floyd rolled his eyes at your antics. "I need my sleep, too. It's a win-win if you just come with us!"

In a split second, you were by the door of your bedroom. A panicked flash adorning your face, you screamed out, "Grim, help! Grim—" Outside, even the crows nestled in their trees perked up and escaped into the distance.

However, your cat friend merely rolled onto his other side. His paws greedily grabbed the blanket all for himself. "Go back to sleep, (Y/n)..." he mumbled and hid his ears beneath the thin pillow.

You clicked your tongue in disappointment. By then, the exhaustion was starting to settle in: all the screaming was draining your small energy reservoir incredibly quickly. "Great..." you grumbled under your breath. Once you had exited the Ramshackle dorm, your tired body went limp in defeat.

Jade simply sighed after a while. "It's because of Azul."

Jade chuckled but shook his head. "No, not really. He somehow is having a lot of nightmares lately. Sadly, his yelling impacts our ability to sleep, as well."

You perked up at his words, and your eyes lit up in worry. "You could have told me earlier instead of dragging me out of my bed without any explanation." Although you pursed your lips, you eventually decided to let it go. A soft sigh escaping your lips, you continued, "So, what's wrong with Azul? Don't tell me he fell asleep at his desk again..."

A yawn escaped his brother's lips. "I get all cranky if I don't get my sleep..." Floyd complained under his breath.

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"Well, we're bringing you with us because he always calls out to you during his nightmares," Jade explained after the three of you had passed through the mirror to arrive at the Octavinelle dorm. "Sometimes it's 'Floyd, don't eat me!' but mostly it's your name, prefect."

Floyd hummed along while you entered the dorm building. "So, we did the only reasonable and logical thing: drag you out of your bed and carry you all the way to our dorm," he chimed proudly. How he managed to procure the strength to carry you despite his tiredness, you would never understand. He dragged you up a winding pair of stairs until you three arrived in front of one particular door.

When you were finally set down again, you let out a satisfied breath. Your tired limbs regained a little bit of life as you stretched and popped your joints back into place. "I'm not sure if I can help him, but I'll try..." you said after a while. The twins eagerly opened the door for you and ushered you inside.

"Work your magic, Shrimpy!"

When light flooded the room, your eyes immediately fell on the figure in the grand bed — none other than Azul. He was thrashing and whimpering. The sight caused your heart to sink in worry. Your feet moved on their own, and you quickly found yourself by his bed side.

"Azul? Whats wrong?" you asked and put his hand on his shoulder.

Your voice seemed to have a soothing effect on him, but he nonetheless continued to roll around in discomfort. "Hm... Floyd, get away from me..." he cried out and hid his head beneath his pillow in what seemed like fear. "Don't eat me..."

You wanted to laugh, you really did — but doing so would have been insensitive. Whatever nightmare he was having, it must have been really bad. His entire body was shaking beneath the blanket.

"Azul? Come on, wake up..." you whispered and squeezed his shoulder softly. "It's me, (Y/n)."

That somehow did the trick. At once, he bolted up until his back was as straight as a candle. His eyes were ripped wide open, and his shoulders heaved up and down. "Please, Floyd, I'm just an innocent octopus! Stop nibbling at my tentacles!" he yelled and clutched his pillow tightly.

"Azul!" You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to pull him back to reality.

His wide eyes returned to their normal size as soon as he noticed your presence. Much to your relief, his body stopped shaking. The fear on his face was now replaced by utter confusion. "Hm? Wait, what are you doing in my room, prefect?" the dorm leader asked awkwardly.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards into an amused smile. "Floyd and Jade brought me here because you were having reoccurring nightmares," you explained while rubbing soothing circles onto his back.

"Tsk, you missed all the good parts," Floyd exclaimed and began cackling. "Azul was fussing about you before he switched to bad-mouthing me. What did he blabber? Stuff like 'Oh, oh! (Y/n), I like you so much!' Right, Jade?"

"I don't seem to recall, brother dearest." An innocent grin graced Jade's lips.

You returned your attention to Azul, whose face was as red as a beet by now. His eyes never met yours. "Well, since you seem pretty fine..." you said between coughs, "I should return to my dorm."

"Thanks for checking up on me..." Azul muttered quietly. "It must have been a long way to the Octavinelle dorm."

Just as you were about to tell him how the twins had dragged you all the way to his room, you noticed their pressing glares. Your instincts told you that perhaps it was better to not tell him all the details. And you had to admit, the grateful smile on his lips somehow made your heart flutter.

"Yeah..." you said and rose to your feet. "No problem."

"Isn't Shrimpy the nicest?" Floyd asked and slung his arm around your shoulder. "Also, Azul! You got my taste buds all wrong. I'd prefer shrimp over octopus every day."

A shiver ran down your spine. "Stop it, before I get nightmares too..."

"You should lock your doors," Jade chirped. "His appetite can be insatiable at times."

You didn't think that Azul's cheeks could have turned even more red. But at this point, he was as red as Riddle's hair. And you swore he looked like he was about to explode. A long sigh escaped his lips, and he buried his face in his hands. The embarrassment he exuded was almost tangible.

"(Y/n), I must apologise for their bad humour and the inconvenience..."

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #twst x you #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul #twst azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland azul #gender neutral reader

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sierrrraaawwwwwcgtcvh · 11 months ago

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Hello! I saw you taking requests and was wondering if you could do something. Where the fem reader is a fallen angel, who is found by Carmilla? You can write it however you want, I just think that would be a nice concept starter.

You didn't regret falling from grace even if it was simply mere moments ago, but the pain was getting to you. The feeling of your wings ripped from your back was causing golden blood to ooze out of your back. Your halo was gone in milliseconds. You remembered the way you shivered as they ripped it from above your head.

It didn't help that the exorcist who ripped off your wings almost took out your eye. You were sure they would've ripped it out of its socket if it wasn't for you managing to get away. They were only able to slice your eyebrow before you got up and ran.

The reason you ended up falling from grace was because you simply couldn't take it. This was your third time coming down into hell and each time you felt horrible. You couldn't handle the screams the demons let out as you slaughtered them. You felt horrible, why were you even killing them?

With you questioning Heaven, and letting two little twin girls run away, you got stripped of your rank in Heaven and were now a fallen angel.

You stumbled as you ran throughout an alleyway, not caring about who was staring at you or what was happening either. Earlier the exorcist who attacked you had ripped off your mask and now you no longer had the mask that all exorcists wore.

You knew you had to get somewhere safe, anywhere. It didn't matter whereas long as you were safe. You nearly reached the end of the alleyway before you had to stop and take a breather. Your feet hurt, badly.

You no longer felt the golden blood you had pour out of your back. That was good you had guessed. No more golden blood that gave you away.

You panted as you continued walking and made it out of the alleyway to a deserted area. People lying dead on the streets with angelic spears inside of them to signal their death.

You watched as two girls who looked similar to each other, the black horns made you piece together the connection they had, ran past you. You stared in confusion as you looked at where they came from.

You shivered as you saw an exorcist heading straight for you. With a stumble in your feet, you readied yourself for combat even though you knew you wouldn't likely make it. You didn't have an angelic spear anymore after all.

Even with your body's senses in overdrive, from the pain, the fear, you stood your ground as the exorcist flew towards you with an angelic spear ready to pierce your body.

You closed your eyes and braced for impact. However, the impact never came and a loud scream followed instead.

You instantly opened your eyes to see a woman with large hands you noticed, and hair that was shaped like horns. She had a red sclera and her eyes were as white as snow, with her pupils sharp as a cat's.

You looked her up and down not in a suggestive way as you also noticed the white around her legs was glowing.

You quickly realized the scream didn't come from her, nor you, but the exorcist that was now beheaded and on the floor.

Wait what? You did a double take as you realized the exorcist was beheaded and dead.

How did she-?

"Do not speak of this." Her eyes narrowed at you as she looked you over.

You opened your mouth to speak before she cut you off, "Is that your blood or an exorcists?" She spat out as you spoke.

"I-It's mine. It's my blood." Your voice was full with fear. She had just recently beheaded and killed that exorcist and now you were sure she was going to do the same to you.

"Are you.. fallen? Like, a fallen angel?" She questioned you as you simply nodded your head 'yes'.

You heard her let out a rather heavy sigh as you watched her walk towards you with curious eyes. Wait- who are you kidding? She's probably about to kill you! Oh well, hopefully it'll be fast and over with.

You were tired of the pain coming from your head and back. You just wanted the pain to go away.

The woman began circling you, inspecting you, as you heard two people running towards you and the woman.

"Mother! Are you alright?" You heard one of the girls ask as the woman stop inspecting you and walked over to where the voice came from.

You turned around and stood rather awkwardly as the woman embraced her two daughters, the girls who ran past you.

You realized you should leave as you stumbled when walking away. You didn't want to interrupt their conversation.

You couldn't hear them talking anymore. That was good, right? You continued walking as you felt a hand tightly grasp your shoulder.

You flinched and turned around to see the woman and her two daughters.

"Where are you going?" She asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Uhm.. I didn't want to interrupt you," you replied as you stared at her, confused as to why she was talking to you.

"You don't have a place to stay right? Plus, the amount of.. blood, on your back can't be a good sign." She sighed as she shook her head. "Stay with me and my daughters for just a bit. You won't survive on your own out here."

You took a second to think the offer over before nodding. "Okay.. what's your name?"

"My name is Carmilla Carmine, and yours?" She offered her hand out for you.

You took her hand as you replied with your name.

"That's a rather nice name. Let's go?" She looked at her daughters who simply nodded at her.

You thanked her as she simply nodded, acknowledging your thanks.

—

Word count: 975

AHHH I WAS SO UNSURE OF HOW TO WRITE CARMILLA FOR THIS, I LOVED THE IDEA SOOO MUCH THOUGH. SORRY IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT!

#carmilla carmine x reader #Carmila x reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel

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yaekiss · 2 years ago

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on this sinful sunday, i’m having very holy thoughts of either branding or carving my name onto childe’s skin— maybe that tummy he’s so insistent on not covering up, maybe a nice little tramp stamp. i know he’s making sure it scars, picking at the scabs and whining for you to redo them if they dare to fade away— he belongs to you!

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Top! Reader x Sub! Bottom! Yan! Tartaglia, reader's dick can also be read as strap, gore + eroguro, knifeplay + blood, masochist Tartaglia, spanking (just once, on Tartaglia), terrible wound care by Tartaglia please don't follow his actions, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: Happy Whore Wednesday pulpie! Or uhhh, it was Wednesday when I started writing this. Got a lil carried away hehe :3 Happy Thotaglia Thursday! Slut on! (With you, Childe feels like every day is Thotaglia Thursday)

Anyways. Childe thinks of you as pure divinity, the holiest of beings, and he’s eager to worship all of you and bear everything that you’re willing to bless him with. Who is he to say no to the pain you inflict on him too?

This time, he’s cockwarming you, the heat and desire he feels is dizzying. You’re inside him and just the sensation of you filling him up perfectly has left him giddy with lust. His face is smushed into the mattress with his azure eyes already rolled into their sockets. Prior to this, he pressed a lavishly decorated dagger into your palm with a fervent sort of urgency, begging for you to mark him up however you like. You try to think back on what could’ve spurred this on. Was it that merchant trying to chat you up at the market the other day? Or perhaps it’s just a sick kind of longing that hangs around the ginger no matter how much time you spend together? One thing remains clear, at its core, Childe wants to be utterly and irrefutably yours.

Taking up the dagger, you admire the inlaid gemstones glinting in the lighting of the room, their colours matching the exact shade of your eyes and you’re sure that this must have cost an arm and a leg. Tracing the cold metal down the ridge of his spine, you feel him shudder, your ears picking up a soft keening whine. You start off slow, the tip of the blade breaking past skin and revealing glorious liquid crimson. Childe sucks in a breath at the delirious buzz of pain and pleasure that he’s subjected to at your hands.

“Nghh… please I wanttt-! to be yours!” Greedy as always.

You take your time carving out your name into his flesh, revelling in just how many moans and whines you can wring out from the harbinger. Despite how muddled his senses are, he’s acutely aware of each and every searing twist and pull of the knife. Some of the warm blood trickles and drips down to where the two of you are connected and the sensation has him losing the ability to speak, brain reeling at how disgustingly intimate this whole act is. However, over time, Childe gets squirmy and twitchy with how pent-up he’s getting, the arousal in him pooling and heightening. That simply won’t do. Good boys need to stay in line while their lover is being so so so nice to them after all. With a pointed “tsk”, you land a hard smack on his ass as a warning. He yelps loudly at the impact but he gets the message, obediently staying still as you finish carving the tramp stamp.

When you’re finally done, you pull out of him, the lack of your cock filling him up has Childe whining again but it snaps him out of his reverie. You reach over to grab a mirror and angle it so that he can see (read: marvel at) your handiwork. His eyes glint as he catches sight of the fresh cuts, the wound spelling out your name and the fact that you’ve claimed him as your devoted believer. However, he doesn’t let you go further than cleaning and disinfecting the wound site. (Secretly, he hopes that it leaves a permanent scar, an eternal pure white etched into his skin to show that he belongs to you without question.)

Throughout the whole healing process, he picks away at the scabs that try to cover the wound, opening it back up again so that your name is written in a carnal raw red. Whenever he stares at it in the bathroom mirror for too long and thinks that a certain part of it is fading away too fast without leaving a mark, he rushes to you, whining and begging for you to redo it with a frenzied tone in his voice.

He wishes you’ll dig even deeper, maybe even push your fingers into his flesh until he’s screaming and clenching down on your cock, use his blood as lube as you fuck up into him relentlessly. The thoughts keep coming and you can’t go a full week without Childe pleading for you to lay your claim on him.

Maybe next time he’ll convince you to leave your mark on his abdomen so that everyone can see who he belongs to.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

#📜.qi rambles #yandere #gore #eroguro #yandere genshin #genshin smut #sub genshin #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia #tartaglia smut #sub tartaglia #childe x reader #yandere childe #childe smut #sub childe #dom reader #📜.qi writings

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bunningchaos · 5 months ago

Text

Desolate

Haha! Next part to the KVAU backstory done!

↼↼{Previous} - {Next}⇀⇀

Original Killer belongs to RahafWabas, on Tumblr!

Summary - Having firmed his resolution to persevere and locate the one whom pleaded for help. Nightmare arrives to find...

None other than Killer.

Link to the AO3 for the chapter

Drawing without the effects since the boi looks cool

Anyways

✕-✕

“YEAH LEAVE AND DON’T FUCKING COME BACK!” The forest echoed loudly, carrying that infuriated scream within the dense woods and trailing off. Though it’s only followed up by more curses filled with hatred and anger, having zero ounce of positivity within it. If anything, the acrimony increased with each words that spills.

“Asshole.” He hisses with disdain, kicking a rock that’s in his path. Tightening his grip on a knife in his possession, slamming the blade into a nearby tree. Puncturing it through the bark entirely, almost like that wasn’t enough to quell the rampaging bitterness in his soul which is pulsing and getting further deformed from it’s original shape. A target circle. Killer, clenched his hands into fists before punching the same tree. Ignoring how his knuckles gradually cracks and bruise under the harsh impact

It continued on until he can barely feel his phalanges anymore, letting it droop to the sides. Blood trickling from the fingers whilst the darkened liquid dripping down his sockets thickened in amount and consistency, tainting the once snow-white cheekbone and dripping onto the snow beneath his feet. Unironically enough, staining the ground.

“Piece of shit, turning your damned back on me.” Sneering at absolutely noone, but the empty air. The cold breeze blew past him as white puffs of air slips past his parted mouth. Teeth then gritting together as he gazed down at the forsaken glowing object, refusing to maintain a singular shape, floating within the front of his chest.

Irritating, irritating, irritatingirritatingirritating—-

Why can’t it simply cease hindering him? Disappear and never appear within his sight ever again, time and time again, he tried to will it away. To shove it within his ribcage- like what he saw for other skeleton monsters, better yet, every single monster– their souls were always carefully and safely tucked away in the magic-fueled body.

So why the fuck is his so insistent on settling out in the open?

Curse this forsaken thing, as if it isn’t already a curse itself in the first place. Why? Killer isn’t certain, whoever damned this unholy affliction upon his entire-being.. should go rot in the deepest depths of hell. So far off that he don’t get any chances to go after them. For the murderous urges within, spikes up drastically.

He’ll make them suffer ten-time over, no, hundred times. Repetitively, for the culprit- if any- to feel the living hell he was put through for years.

He barely understood anything about it. Not of himself, how he came to be. Even his own name, the one thing that should’ve at least given him a clue as to who he was, were as good as non-existent.

No matter how much time passes, the amount of agonizing headaches he endure just to search through the blurry and fragmented memories in his head- it’s all for naught. Time and time over, he wanted to rip his skull apart. Tear the forsaken soul which lingers appallingly by his chest. The multiverse forbids him from setting it to waste. End his life that holds no meaning.

Exception for the sickening joy he sought for, during a murderous spree. Their pain thrills him, the way they cry out for mercy, scream at him for being a twisted psychopath. How the life in their eyes slowly extinguish as he lands the final strike.

They called him a ‘Killer’, and he relished in it.

Why not just take that ‘name’ and embrace it? It isn’t as if he had any idea what else to address himself as anyways.

It’s the only thing that gave him a purpose.

Though as soon as it’s over..?

The feeling leaves his chest, cold emptiness fills him up at the end of it all.

In midst of all those void-like emptiness, there were times he could hear voices. Echoing, covered by static- making it difficult for him to hear what exactly they’re saying. The first few times were easy to brush off, yet as the days passes. It worsens, louder. Noisier. Terrifying even, it keeps on saying things that barely register in his mind but it’s enough to make him paranoid.

He can’t see.

His vision keeps on blanking out during those ‘episodes’ or so Colour would call it.

Right.

Colour, his friend, the only person that actually managed to stand his ground against him.

The sole person whom reached out to him, offered to be companions. Saw that there were good in him, despite Killer’s lack of understanding. Incapable of grasping what the other even meant, yet he took the warm hand that were provided.

Going along with his new-found friend..

It wasn’t an easy journey. The beginning was rough. Regardless of Colour’s constant attempts to talk Killer down and avoid another slaughter-fest, it usually end up fruitless. With Killer fighting against his own friend instead. Even stomping off alone at how.. nice Colour was. Without fail, he keeps looking at Killer with such softness in his eyelight. Gaze which held an incredible amount of hope.

It’s almost nauseating.

Not wishing to potentially disappoint the bundle of hope and joy, Killer began masking his true intents. Indulging in the various activities presented. Slowly getting acquainted with a few other monsters that were hesitant to accept Killer initially. However, with some convincing from Colour and the sight of Killer not acting up maliciously for a period of time.

They opened up to him, allowing him into their lives and also making themselves a part of his. It was peaceful. Life would’ve been perfect, yet Killer felt nothing.

It’s empty.

The gaping hole within his soul were always lingering within the back of his mind.

Everyone is smiling, laughing. The wondrously sweet moments, it should make him feel something too. Right?

He tried so hard to blend in with the crowd. Shove down the overwhelming urge to stab someone. Feel their blood on his hands, just for the temporary sense of peace. Managing it is difficult when Colour checks on him time after time, and even spend plenty of days by his side. Gradually loosening up and allowing Killer to spend time in public alone.

Oh that has got to be one of the worst possible mistakes ever.

All went well formerly, till Killer inevitably snapped. The voices swirling around his mind, echoing. Taunting, were far too loud to push aside. Coldness filling his soul and pleading desperately for some relief. To feel something.

It wasn’t intentional. Oh stars, he never meant to break Colour’s trust in him. Yet the moment Killer regained a sense of clarity.. All he saw was red. Mangled corpses of humans and thick ashes of white scattered in the surrounding.

Within all of those, were traces of belongings that were familiar. Did he also hunt down the ones that seemingly considered him ‘friends’? Though it wasn’t reciprocated properly. Yes, yes he did.

The next few moment was all a fuzzy mess. He could’ve sworn his vision blurred once more, clouded by splotches of black which spilled down his cheekbones. The consistency of the unknown substance growing thicker and much more frequent with each passing seconds.

A low blow was the sheer disbelief and shock that showed within Colour’s face for no more than a split second. Overtaken by a softer gaze, as he advanced towards the carnage. Reaching out to hold Killer, the familiar warmth was soothing. Least, it should’ve been. Yet all that the skeleton felt, was freezing and unrelenting emptiness.

Again.

And again.

He can’t feel a single thing. Except pain.

Whilst the cruel, taunting voices only gets louder. So much so that he ends up arguing and fighting with Colour due to more reasons than one. All of which kept on piling, snowballing till it’s nearly impossible to figure out why each issue stirs up.

Would it be wrong for him to simply forsake everything by now? Give into the voices, allow it to puppeteer him as it pleases? Lose every ounce of control he had?

He just wanted to feel something. Find out what he’s forgetting, why does he even exist? Do he even have a purpose in the first place? Did he belong anywhere? Is he truly incapable of doing anything other than murder senselessly for nothing but a temporary respite and silence within his mind?

Nothing could be found out about his soul, nor the strange substance that spills down his sockets. Staining everything it touches with a surge of black, that could barely be washed off. The stain is near permanent, it’s disgusting. Repulsive. The shape of his soul too, why is it circular? Similar to a target. These were puzzles that he couldn’t solve, like there was missing pieces that is scattered which he’s unable to retrieve to fit it back in place and understand himself.

Was it normal to feel close to literally nothing? To have voices speaking within one’s head, over, and over. With no clear coherent voice or words? This was torture, it wouldn’t ever stop chattering. Whispering.

Why is it excruciatingly painful when the voices start? His soul seem to also be reacting heavily to it, aching. His entire body feel so heavy. Even without the tortuous whispering, it’s naught but agony.

It hurts.

It hurts so much

Make it stop.

Someone. Anyone.

Please make it stop.

Ithurtsomuchplease

Help

Godithurtspleasemakeitstop

Someoneanyonepleasehelpme

Stepping foot into the universe where he felt the overwhelming negativity from. Where the cry for help continuously echoes, so loudly that it’s ringing within his head. Just who could be in this much agony? Wrong as it is, the tremendous power spike he felt from just this one individual alone was excessive.

No, is it really just one person? It feels as if there’s multiple. There’s just no way a singular person can withhold this much agony within their entire being. This intense surge of anguish is unlike any that he’s ever seen before.

Glancing around, the place he arrived in. Was far deep into the woods, almost similar to where he previously were.. If not for the difference in atmosphere, the air is so much heavier. Suffocating even.

The snow falling from the sky was thick, temperature dropping with each passing seconds. The chilly air stung his bones, exhaling a small puff of white smoke from his mouth as he advances towards the source of negativity.

It’s potent, concentrated entirely to one particular direction. Which he followed, despite all red flags blaring within the back of his mind. Yet, do he care? No, he don’t. Getting hurt isn’t even a concern that he bothers with anymore.

It wouldn’t even matter if he end up suffering the consequences of recklessness if the cry for help is nothing but a lure to drag him out. Would the one that overtook the body of his twin, fall so low to use someone to force him to take action? Perhaps, or maybe not. He barely understood him anymore.

Not anymore.

The snow crunched underneath his foot, one foot forward and another. It’s gotten so thick and high that he could hardly walk properly. Having to pull his leg nearly up to his chest, just to take a step onwards.

Keep going.

The cry for help tugged at his soul, a unknown feeling that he’s long buried away amidst all of his own suffering.. were slowly creeping back up.

It doesn’t take him long to locate the source. Coming across a skeleton, crouched over on the ground. Hands grasping tightly onto his skull while a consistent burst of eerie, darkened and purple aura spill from him, invisible to all but Nightmare. The negativity is so much stronger now that he’s merely a few feet away.

He could see a flicker of red lingering within the front of the stranger’s chest, though with how he’s slumped over. It’s difficult to pinpoint what exactly was giving off such bright yet unsettling glow. The pure-white snow was stained to the brim with black, almost like Nightmare’s own goop that would dirty every spot the tendrils touched.

..Why do this feel so familiar?

His soul throbbed deep within his ribcage, worry.

Sympathy

Concern.

He wanted to help this person.

No, he has to.

This wasn’t logical, but he had long decided that he would do his best to save someone. No matter the cost, the chance is right here too.

Though, it didn’t feel as if it was out of the selfishness of wanting to leave a mark. To be important, no. It was like he genuinely wished to actually pull the other out of the constant stream of pain that he’s in.

It’s almost like the past where he would give up anything and everything just for his twin.

Taking a deep breath, Nightmare slowly approached. Kneeling down infront of the unidentified skeleton, who barely even noticed his presence. Choked sobs of distress and incoherent pleas slipping out of the poor guy’s mouth, though the sorrow was all too clear. Nightmare could still hear his voice crying out internally.

How can he even help?

How did he manage to calm his brother down in the past?

Come on. Hurry, think.

Night. Think.

If he could reduce the amount of negativity from the other, consume it and force him into a state of calmness.

He could.

He can.

It’s been so long since Nightmare last attempted this, tapping into others’ emotions to sap it away. ‘Feeding’ on the negativity to fuel himself

It can work.

He just has to hope he don’t mess up

Reaching his hands out towards the skeleton, Nightmare cups one of his cheek and gently tilts it upwards to make direct eye-contact. Ever so softly hushing him before leaning forward to rest their forehead together, a dim purple glow engulfing them both. Taking this chance, to also lightly grasp the red, fragile object that seems to be spazzing out and spiraling

Killer stiffens up at the touch, who is this? What is going on? Did Colour come back? This didn’t feel like the usual pair of hands that’s offered out to grasp onto his. It felt so..

..soothing…?

A shiver ran down Killer’s spine at the chilly sensation that washed over his entire body, his soul gradually slowing. No longer twisting and swirling into a deformed mess. Calming down to it’s original circular shape. His vision were still so blurry, unable to see anything but black and red. Yet, he could clearly feel someone holding onto his cheek, and his forehead pressed against something or rather- someone.

Having someone touch his soul oh-so carefully, felt strange. No one actually tried to make contact with it at all in such a way, if anything. He’d usually see them trying to yank it just to test how he’d react

That much was easy to figure out, due to the soft whispers that took over most of his attention. Quietening down the voices that he originally thought was ceaseless. However, it.. stopped?

It’s silent. Abnormally quiet within his head, hearing absolutely nothing except the uttering that he could barely even catch.

….

Uncertain on how much time had passed, the whispering stopped once Killer gradually eased up. Much to his disappointment, the gentle grasp also pulled away from his skull. Allowing him time to properly sit up, rubbing at the black streaks running down his cheekbones from both sockets. In turns, slowly clearing up his vision at the same time.

Ugh it’s disgusting.

Glaring down at his hands, stained with an inky mess. He finally took a look at the person that were on their knees infront of him. The first thing that catches his attention is his own red soul, floating atop the other’s palm.

Who..?

..An angel? No, no that didn’t seem like one. Not from the few narratives he’s heard of- pure white wings, with golden halo that rests above one’s head. Soothingly warm presence and gaze that wills upon a surge of comfort.

Yet, this other being that appears so frail and worn-out - the complete opposite of what ‘angels’ are rumored to be - rather than a hollowed-out circular ring that stays above his head, there’s a golden crown with three symbols resting at the very front. In the shade of such vivid purple, one moon within the middle and stars at the sides.

Violet eyelight, which holds a mixture of caution, and undeniably an obvious amount of worry. It wasn’t as bright as the sun, far from it. It’s.. close to what he can describe as the moon that hangs above a darkened night sky.

In place of soft, feathery white wings.. is what he could assume, to be a surge of goop. Similar to slime, barely swaying behind the other. One might even deem it unsightly and unnerving, but to Killer? Oh stars, the way it moves was mesmerizing.

He wants to touch it, feel the texture underneath his phalanges. See if it’d react to his touch, perhaps even curl around his palm as he lavish it with attention..?

Ah, his thoughts were drifting away. Finally, refocusing on the smaller one entirely. Killer’s breath hitched in his throat, biting back any words that threatened to spill. By no means were the magnificent being emanating any warmth, if anything it’s cold. A relatively delightful coldness.

Never have he seen someone so beautiful. Skewed as it is, he could argue that THIS was an angel. To him, let others’ opinions be damned. The more he looked at the unknown stranger in front of his very eyes, the further his mind reaffirmed it’s statement.

Without his realization, his own eyelights briefly reignited itself within the usually empty sockets.

He could’ve sworn the accursed soul was shifting in place within the other’s icy grasp, a singular phalange trailing over the delicate surface as if it’s a precious gem.

“Are you..-” The voice caught Killer’s attention entirely, perking up much like a puppy would when hearing it’s owner’s voice. Hell, if he had a tail, it’d definitely be wagging.

“How are you feeling?” Melodious, akin to an alluring lullaby. One that could easily put someone to sleep,

…

“Can you.. speak?” Nightmare questions hesitantly, wondering if perhaps the other were uncomfortable with his presence. Despite not being able to sense any bit of it, or maybe his capability to detect one’s emotions properly weren’t at it’s tip-top condition anymore. Having been focused on sensing even the smallest bit of positivity in an attempt to slip away from a certain someone’s grasp and sight.

Though that’s not important right now. Not this moment

“Hello..?” The lack of answers made everything awkward. The tension was high enough as it is, till Killer finally opened his mouth. “..Beautiful”

..Huh?

Now that was completely abrupt, with nothing to back it up whatsoever. Catching Nightmare by surprise, blinking once, twice. A tinge of purple quickly dusting his cheekbones at the compliment, puzzled by that. Of all things he was expecting to hear, this was definitely not one of it. It’d make sense if the other demanded for the red object back! Or, lash out at the unconsented touch- usage of magic on him and all.

Yet, he receives a compliment? Killer seemed so awestruck, which were the truth. He’s mesmerized by Nightmare. Yes, this was their first meeting. No, he have never heard nor seen the other before. However, there was just something about him that captivated Killer’s attention. Perhaps the fact regarding how Nightmare practically silenced the torment he’s forced to face on a daily basis? The lovely and welcomed coldness that soothed his very being?

Killer can’t tell right now.

“I’ll.. take that as a compliment, thank you” Nightmare let out a small chuckle, and stars above. Killer could’ve sworn his soul was throbbing. Pulsing within the gentle grasp, to which earned another small rub. Sending shivers down Killer’s spine, how can someone be this.. soft towards him? It wasn’t even like Colour behaved this way too, no matter how much his friend claims that he cares- that he believed in him. There was always a distance between them, one that Killer could never afford to cross nor step over the invisible boundary.

“Who… who are you? What even are you? Why are you-” Too much questions at once, overwhelming to some extent. Which Nightmare halted, by simply raising a finger up with his free hand.

“I go by the name of Nightmare,” Addressing the first inquiry, he tilts his head slightly. Offering a small smile which made the object in his hand give another shake, odd. “I’m but a wandering traveler”

A white lie, not entirely the full truth but also not false. Nightmare had been traversing through various universes on a daily basis. Never having a proper place to settle down to call ‘home’, much as he’d love to have a safe space. To finally relax, toss off the intense dread and fear of being taken back to the hellhole, by the side of the sole person he used to trust with his entire life.

“You seemed to be in.. distress. Are you perhaps feeling any better?”

Killer stares, gradually giving a small nod instead of simply gawking at Nightmare like a absolute fool.

“Uh, feelin’ alot better. That’s for sure, thanks Night” Unbeknownst to Killer himself, he unintentionally shortened the other’s name. By the time he realises? It’s too late, oh great. He screwed himself over again, didn’t he? Made himself look like a complete idiot that listen properly to one’s introduction and-

“That’s a first” A small giggle slips from Nightmare, catching Killer offguard. He.. wasn’t mad? He’s actually laughing at such a silly slip of the tongue?

“How may I address you?” The question was simple, one which is normal to be asking another upon meeting. But Killer felt like he was over the moon at the small hint that the other was interested enough to be engaging in a proper conversation instead of scurrying away or leaving as soon as the chance is given. That or, avoiding him like the literal plague. Those aren’t the worst, of course. He’d rather be left alone than to.. Be looked at with pity or like he should be experimented on.

“Killer.” What a strange choice of name, who would name someone ‘Killer’? Then again, it isn’t as if Nightmare had a better name in the first place, so he wasn’t going to comment on it. Other than internally wondering why the other was named as such when he seemed relatively harmless. An unusual individual, that’s for certain. Although when it comes to malicious intent? Nightmare couldn’t sense any.

Which further confuses him. Why and how did Killer end up feeling that devastatingly crushing pain and panic?

The question was right on the tip of his tongue. Alas, he doesn’t actually bring it up, as he himself isn’t going into personal information as such. Reasonable so, as they both just met for the very first time.It wouldn’t be right to dive into heavy topics off the bat

“Well, I reckon it’d be alright for me to depart now.” Returning the glowing, circular object to Killer. He gently grasped it and let it linger by the font of his chest. Watching as Nightmare gets up onto his feet. Causing an unknown spike of emotion to surge through the skeleton’s mind.

Is he leaving this quickly? Will he ever see him again?

Nightmare reluctantly stepped away. It would be amazing to converse more with someone else other than his own thoughts, but he had stayed in one spot for longer than he normally would. Besides, with the large amount of negativity moments ago, he’s certain the person he’s been avoiding the whole time, will definitely come over and risk catching him

He don’t want to be alone.

“Wait!” Killer hurried to call out, using a arm to push himself up onto his feet in a rush. The sudden movement giving him a headache, everything spun. However, he was quick to grasp onto one of Nightmare’s hand. Holding the small, petite wrist.

“You’re… a traveler, right? Could I.. tag along?” It’s rash, there isn’t a singular thought nor reasoning behind this severely impulsive request. None at all, not even a tiniest shred. Surprisingly not just Nightmare, but also himself at how he’s acting out all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry but my paths aren’t always the safest and switching between places is common” An explanation was given from Nightmare whom awkwardly glances away. Having to omit plenty of details and ensuring it’d make sense from a outsider’s perspective.

Was that enough to get Killer to back down? Nope! Not even one bit, if anything it encouraged him further. “I can protect you, I’m good at fighting.” This was slowly leaning to desperation, for more reasons than one.

Killer wishes to remain by this person’s side. He made his soul.. flutter. Feel emotions that he normally wouldn’t, and the voices- just being by Nightmare- was enough to get it all to shut up. Be it temporarily or permanent, it wouldn’t matter one bit. If one view this in another way entirely, it’d just be seen as Killer wanting to take advantage of someone that could help him, and is then willing to stick closely.

To say Nightmare was surprised was an underestimation. He did not stop to think that someone would be willing to offer going along with him. It will definitely lead to multiple issues, especially with Dream constantly on his tail. Hunting him down. How would that even be explained? Would it actually even matter?

Anyone near him is bound to end up being in trouble. However, at the same time? Nightmare couldn’t shake off the small anticipation within himself. He could maybe, finally, have someone he could deem a actual. living companion by his side. One that he had successfully managed to calm down, without things going wary. Nothing went wrong!

Maybe, just maybe. The same thing may end up occurring again, and if Nightmare agrees to have the other with him. He would be able to instantly provide comfort and assistance.

But..

Dream wouldn’t like that.

It may provoke him, should he ever find out about this and.. And he’d likely be hunted more than he already were.

“I swear, I can be a good bodyguard.” Killer reassures, cutting Nightmare’s train of thoughts short. That singular promise seems to confuse him more than ever. Why was this guy so insistent on coming?

“Please.”

Nightmare bit back his words upon hearing that singular plea, of all emotions to be sensing from Killer. It’s desperation and loneliness. Something that he was familiar with. Was this part of why Killer’s soul cried out so loudly? Because he’s seeking for a purpose and something is weighing him down? Pulling him to the very depths of the sea and drowning him?

It’s like Killer is longing for something, which Nightmare couldn’t exactly place a finger on. Not right this moment at the very least.

“It’d be.. dangerous.” Nightmare began hesitantly, piquing Killer’s interest. Listening attentively, and expectant. The small surge of hope felt so foreign. “I can’t assure you that I’ll be able to keep you safe, and..-”

There’s so much that he’s not comfortable sharing right now. Not now. It’s difficult to trust someone on a deeper level, with how deeply scarred he is when it comes to trust and love.

That subtle frown spoke volumes. Killer, despite his incapability to properly indulge in emotions and understand them personally.. had always known how to read one’s facial expression and body language. It felt like second nature,

“I don’t want to hurt you.” That one sentence brought forth more reasons and emotions than Nightmare would’ve liked. The very same things that Dream would tell him time and time again, to comfort him. With the adoringly wonderful smile and soft gaze.

He missed it so much.

No, no he can’t sidetrack in his thoughts right now.

If he were to allow someone else, especially a frail mortal, accompany him. It’d only endanger the other’s life and put a huge target on his back. How can he afford to pull someone into his issues when he can’t even protect himself properly?

When he nearly gave up, forsake himself to a eternal slumber. Had it not been for the sudden plea that jolts him right back. To find a purpose in helping someone, and.. then what?

Abandon them as soon as he calms them down? Is this what he’s going to do? When there’s a clear offer to finally have someone by his side, after a long, desperate and lonely years of mindlessly wandering?

He could provide solace to this poor soul, take him in and guide him away from the pain- shelter him from the overwhelming negativity that is slowly threatening to creep back in. This wouldn’t exactly be a unfair ‘trade’ either, as Killer would also be granting him the very thing he’s been craving.

Companionship.

A guardian shouldn’t be like this, yet.. He had long given up on that role, perhaps just this once. He could try to see how things go. If he can’t protect his own sibling from going down the wrong path, he could.. Help this one person out. Right?

“There is alot of things that I wouldn’t be able to explain.” Nightmare began slowly, turning slightly to face Killer properly. Looking him straight in the sockets, observing him carefully “It’d be confusing and not make any sense.”

..Why could he not detect any doubts whatsoever within him? Why do Killer want to trust him so much when this is the first ever encounter they had? If anything, there is an unwavering determination deep within that felt extremely foreign.

There isn’t a shred of malicious intents either.

Why? Just why?

Is it normal for someone to be this hellbent on.. being loyal? Was Nightmare overthinking this, or perhaps he isn’t and being cautious like he normally were, is good?

“If you’re still willing to, I can take you along.” This wasn’t a vow, it never is. Nightmare wouldn’t ever, but a verbal confirmation to ensure that Killer had the decision to accept or deny. “At any point if you feel like wanting to part ways, I’m more than okay with letting you go”

No more words needed to be said, Killer shifts his hand to properly intertwine his fingers with Nightmare’s, Tugging it up to his mouth before planting a small kiss on the back of it. Which essentially confused and also embarrassed the smaller one, cheekbones flushing bright purple as he averts his gaze. Was this really necessary?

“Thanks, Moon” Nickname already..? This guy sure is bold, but it’s a welcome sight.. A change of pace from talking to himself.

Nightmare pulls his hand away, sighing. What an odd individual, turning away before opening up a portal.

The purple vortex swirling was mesmerizing, the magic that sparked off the edges. From the looks of it, Killer would’ve mistaken that for a brief glimpse of the galaxy manifesting in a small area. Curious as he may be, he dared not ask questions.. yet.

There was so much inquiries he wished to blurt out, the main thing was- how did Nightmare even manage to have this much of an effect on him? Even Colour struggled to snap him out of his usual episodes, especially one as bad as earlier. It was a near miracle that it occurred when no one else was around, or that he didn’t simply lash out. The result would’ve been horrible, like usual.

Frankly he wasn’t expecting to have been eased into calmness so easily. Almost as if the other had simply took away the anguish. Surely that’s impossible, right?

“Killer?” Hearing his name being called in that sweet, gentle voice. Snapped Killer right out of his thoughts, head tilting in confusion. A clear sign that he had been zoning out the whole time, unintentionally letting every single things that Nightmare might’ve said, fly right past his head!

“I was asking if you’re ready to head off” Despite the facade of false peace written over his face, an underlying sense of apprehension and caution could be seen through. Tension within his shoulders, eyelight darting occasionally to the surrounding, and subtle fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves. It’s all too clear that something’s going on. Truly, Killer found it all to be weirdly exciting. Thrilling. Not once has those emotions arise for anything except murdering or torturing another to a slow, painful death.

Yet now? He can sense them! Why? That is a question for later, how? He shall know in due time.

All that matters is ensuring he remains by this unique individual’s side. Clinging to the one person that gave him the rare chance of quietude and so much more than what he could possibly ever hope for. Despite how small this favor was to anyone that might be confused if they ever catch wind of this brief encounter. To Killer? It meant the literal world, to have the voices finally cease it’s endless torment, to no longer experience absolute emptiness within his soul.

“Shall we?” Nightmare offers, holding a hand out. Blissfully unaware of the countless thoughts running wildly within Killer’s head. The accursed soul threatening to reshape itself, if Killer didn’t relax.

Taking the outreached hand, Killer gave a small squeeze. “Let’s.”

With that, they stepped through the portal and left.

Would Colour end up coming back? He’s uncertain, there were times that the guy disappeared for days on end. Be it during an argument or not, though the former usually lead to Colour’s disappearance lasting for longer. Of course, Killer appreciated everything that his friend had done for him. But, it just wasn’t the same. Colour didn’t understand at all. Time and time again, repetitively.

He could’ve sworn things started going wary when Killer brought up a particular topic..

..Was it even important anymore..?

Whatever.

He can think later.

The portal then closes.

“Oh stars, this is going incredibly wrong! He won’t be happy about this”

#bunningart #undertale au #utmv #sans au #killer sans #KVAU Killer #KVAU #Knight's Vow AU #Knights Vow AU #Knight's Vow #Knights Vow #bunningstory

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