#Mangle is allowed to stay

[concerned-wet-floor-sign-bot]

I walked by my library today and now Freddy has went back into my brain and he brought funtime Freddy and mangle with him. Helpy and Helpi have been trying and they got Funtime Freddy to leave but mangle bit Helpys hand. Freddy is being stubborn and sitting there. By now Helpy has gone to fnaf 1 to get Foxy Chica and Bonnie, Helpi has gone to security breach and is getting the glamrocks (including a bunch of designs for glamrock animatronics and both the purple gl Bonnie design and the in game blue one) and sun/moon and Vanessa/Vanny and Gregory and a whole bunch of staff bots. I hope they can get Freddy out.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-

And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)

I hear your calls <3

...............

"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"

"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."

With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.

You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.

And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.

You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.

But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.

It was like you were performing a surgical operation..

Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.

Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.

Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.

Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.

Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.

"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."

"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"

"...because I was his favorite."

"Huh..?"

"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."

'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.

Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.

"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."

"........"

Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.

Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.

Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"

He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.

'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'

Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.

You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"

"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"

Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.

You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.

"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.

He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."

"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."

"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"

Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"

"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."

"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"

"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."

With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."

"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"

"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."

"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.

You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.

He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.

"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.

"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."

[vanessaedp]

141 + König reacting to you taking off your mask.

taking off ur bally 😜😜✌️✌️😗😗🫶🫶

warnings: fluff, british slang 😛

FLASHING GIF WARNING

___

Price

He had known the reason why you wore a balaclava and if he's honest. He hadn't ever expected you to take it off.

That was until today.

It was a simple mission really, do some fancy dress up party and poison the target.

However, to get into the party you need to have a partner

So, you and Price partnered up and went to the party as a fake couple. You wore a simple red dress and he wore a tuxedo.

The day before the mission he approached you. "Planning to paint your mask to match the dress, Sergeant?" He joked.

"No sir." You shake your head. "Actually, I wasn't going to wear it at all but now that you say that I might have another idea." You scoff at Price's dissapointed expression.

On the day of the mission you and Price are sat in a vehicle, he's running through the mission with you and take your mask off.

His look alone sent shivers down your spine. You expected him to look at you with horror or disgust but to your suprise he looked at you with admiration.

"Bloody hell, your beautiful, sarge." He said, his voice raspy and his throat dry.

"Don't get too excited, captain." You laugh.

Ghost

You and Ghost had some things in common.

You both were traumatised at a young age and you both wore masks.

He cared for you somewhat. Like how he cared for Soap

Except he liked you more.

During this mission it hadn't gone well. You had a bullet graze the side of your head and now you were splayed across the concrete floor with Ghost surrounded by mangled metal.

"Wheres the bleeding?" Ghost checked everywhere.

"My head." You mutter, turning your head to show a dark patch on your mask.

"May I?" Ghost's fingers hooked under your mask as if he was going to rip it off anyway.

You furrow your brows and roll your eyes. "It's not like I have a bloody choice, i'm bleeding to death you tosser."

Ghost grumbles something under his breath before peeling the mask off and placing it beside your head.

You swear you see his eyes widen the teeny tiniest bit. His eyes trail down your face for a split second before setting on your bleeding skull. "Right.." He says with a sigh, his voice hoarse.

"Enjoying the view?" You scoff, wincing when he starts treating your wound.

"You wish." He mumbles, his gaze flickering down to your face and lingering there for a few seconds.

Soap

You and Soap had been dating for 3 years. Not once have you taken your mask off.

He doesn't mind but all he wants is for you to trust him.

Soap allowed to stay off while you were recovering from a near-death experience. His left arm was hanging on by a thread after being abushed in a mission. He survived and is now on drugs so he can handle the pain.

You visited after his deployment to see how he was. He acted like a drunk man when he saw you, probably from the drugs.

"Who the feck are you..?" He slurred, his head lolling to one side. "My girlfriend won't be happy to see this.." He mutters.

You giggle and take a seat beside his bed. "I am your girlfriend, Johnny." You look down at his leg. It's stitched neatly. You grimace for a moment. You can handle all the gore in the world but your boyfriends? Now thats a different story.

You hear his heartbeat monitor pick up. "You wha?" He asks, his voice higher pitched and his brows raised.

"I'm your girlfriend." You slowly place a hand on his face.

"Fucking hell." He mutters, his eyes wide. "Are you sure? I'm abit of a twat." He shuffles, trying to sit up however you place a hand on his chest and push him back down.

"If I wasn't your girlfriend would I do this?" You hesitantly lift your mask up and lean close, kissing his cheek. You do this because he'll probably forget about it but its precious to see his reaction anyway.

"Fuck me sideways." He says under his breath, looking at you with admiration. His eyes stare at your eyes then the little scar on your left eyebrow. Then the burn scar shaped like a cross. Presumably from a branding iron. He then stared at your lips. He licked his then spoke.

"Can you do that again? But on my lips this time."

Gaz

"Listen i'm so sorry.. I don't even know how this happened I swear i'll fix it." Gaz protested. He accidentally ripped your mask while in a sparring match, thankfully you covered your face before anyone else saw.

"Gaz, it's fine." You say a little sarcastically. Sure, you were pissed he had ripped your only mask but he offered to fix it so there wasn't much point in being annoyed with him. "I want it fixed by tomorrow."

"Of course. I promise it'll be fixed." He even pinky swore on it.

After a long 12 hours of being in your room without letting anyone in with fear that they will see you without your mask you hear a knock at the door. "Gaz?"

"I've got your mask. Can I come in." He asks, twisting the door knob.

"Alright.." You mumble and sit up. Watching the door open and Gaz step in, he shuts it behind him and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you.

"Christ." He swallows hard. "You don't really need this mask, do you? It's only a silly balaclava." He waves it around.

"Kyle give it here." You hold your hand out and Gaz sighs, walking up to you and handing it over. He visibly tenses up when your hand brushes against his.

"So does that mean you'll wear it less around me?" He sounds excited, his eyes fixed on your face as you slipped the mask back on.

"Don't get your hopes up, mate. Thanks for fixing it though." You stand up and give him a wink, hitting his shoulder playfully.

König

"Jesus christ how do you wear your hood for so long." You sigh, blowing raspberries through your lips and lifting the bottom of your mask up to let some air through.

It was a heatwave at the base and you were MELTING

"Mine's baggy. More airflow." König stared down at you, his arms folded across his chest. "Why don't you take it off?"

"Fuck off you manky wank-stain." You laugh, shaking your head. "Bloody hell." You whine, the heat irritating you.

"I have a spare hood if you want it, liebe." He offered. "Come." He gestures for you to follow him and you do. He takes you to his room and he rumages through his drawer, tossing you a shirt with two holes in it.

"The bloody hell is this?" You giggle, looking at the massive shirt. "Your a size.. XXL?" You look at the tag.

"Just put the shirt on, selbstgefällig." He rolls his eyes which widen when he sees you take your mask off. It was truly a beautiful sight. Your cheeks pink and flushed from the heat, some strands of hair stick to your forehead. It was all interrupted when you slipped the shirt over your head.

"Schatz.." He mumbles. "Your very pretty, you know. You don't need it." He holds his head low.

"Thank you, König thats very kind of you." You smile under the shirt and adjust it. "Thanks for the hood aswell." You step forward and cup where you think his face is from under the mask. "I'll wear this more often."

You leave the room, leaving König flustered, flabbergasted and head over heels in love.

___

here u go pookies come here and kiss me

[aureum-cordis]

Lost & Found, Part 2

A/N: Hey again! Here’s Part 2, I didn’t want to make y’all wait too long for it. DogDay actually finds you in this part! The same warnings as from before apply, make sure to check out the first part if you haven’t already. Thank you for checking out this fic! Check out the other parts here: Part 1 , Part 3

_________________________________________________

Yet as the orange dog neared the doorway and slowly opened the door, it was then that he noticed the small shape amidst the darkness. It was huddled near a bed, resting against the frame with a mangled plush in its hands as it wept into the soft body of what had once been some sort of animal.

A realization dawned on him in an instant, it was one of the children. Several questions flooded his mind, the most abundant of which contained some form of concern as to how this small child had survived.

Upon beginning to enter the room, his hand made contact with a plank of wood that groaned in protest under the added weight. The sound made him wince, his eyes immediately darting to the child in the room.

It was then that you looked up from the plush animal in your hands and finally noticed his presence. Panicked sobs and desperate attempts to back away from him were your way of trying to escape. DogDay was equally as panicked, knowing that he had to find something to soothe you and quick.

The last thing either of them needed was for CatNap to become aware of their presence. At this point, you had crawled under the bed in an attempt to get away from him, something that tore at his heart at that very moment. Tears ran down your face in streams, running down your nose as you began to hiccup from the intensity. DogDay lowered himself to the floor, attempting to mimic some form of submission.

His plush ears tilted back and his tail was held low and wagged slowly, his approach was inchmeal, but that was intentional. You were terrified of his very presence, he knew that he needed to do something to prove that he wouldn’t hurt you. His chin rested on the floor as he laid down a short distance away from the bed you took cover under.

Your sobs continued for several long minutes, pawing at your eyes with balled up fists to try to stop the steady flow. DogDay was patient, he would remain here for as long as you needed to feel comfortable.

He knew that staying here forever wasn’t an option, but his fear of CatNap’s presence had since dissipated upon noticing you.

You were so small, tinier than you should’ve been at such an age. Your skin was pale from the lack of sunlight and he could see your ribs through the tattered and dirty shirt you wore. Malnutrition plagued your already petite body, it was a miracle you had lasted this long. The bags under your eyes and the way your eyelids hung low were signs that he recognized as symptoms of sleep deprivation.

The intensity of your weeping had lessened as you peered out from under the bed at him through blurry eyes. He remained still, the only things moving were his and the slow wag of his tail. Slowly, you crept closer to him, hesitating every now and then as if you expected him to lash out at you.

But the orange dog was motionless, allowing you to come to him at your own pace. You tentatively stuck a hand out toward his head, the other still clutching the mangled fabric of the plush like a lifeline. DogDay lifted his head slowly and met your hand with his muzzle as well as his nose, to which you didn’t pull away, much to his surprise.

Instead, you began to pet him, running your hand along the fur of his chin. He wasn’t sure how to react at that moment, but you seemed more than content to keep stroking his dirty and matted fur, so he would allow it. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying, but now only a stray tear or two ran down your small cheeks.

Your breathing was still ragged and weak as your lungs attempted to gather oxygen from the stale air in the building. The orange dog allowed you to continue to run your hand along his head, when he noticed that you had moved closer to him. You placed the plush toy down by your side, DogDay watching with slight confusion when suddenly your arms wrapped around his head, which was relatively around the same size as your body.

You buried your small face into one of his downy ears, holding onto him as if he would vanish if you loosened your grip in the slightest.

Gently, he placed one of his hands on your back, careful to not frighten you as he did so. You grabbed handfuls of his fur, which he didn’t mind, knowing well that you were just a terrified little kid.

DogDay knew you didn’t deserve this, none of the children had warranted the horrors they were forcefully dragged into solely for daring to exist. Your weak little body shook like a leaf in the breeze as you held onto him and he used his hand to support you.

He hushed you softly, feeling tears soak into the fur of his ear that you still had your face buried in. “I’m here, you're not alone anymore. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice was quiet and gentle as he spoke, the sound startled you but as you listened to his words, he noticed that you relaxed substantially.

The muscles of your small frame had been taut prior, yet the words he spoke seemed to register in your fear-addled mind and set you at ease. Now that you were calmer and seemed to accept his presence, he deemed it to be a good time to return to the others.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been in this room, but he knew that staying in one place for far too long was a death sentence. Slowly, he lifted his head and broke the embrace in order to meet your eyes. You made a sound of protest, disliking the way he had moved away from you, but you looked at him in confusion as to why he had pulled away.

“It’s not safe here, will you come with me? I think I might need your company, I’m not brave enough to do it alone.” His words were far from the truth, anyone with sense would know that. There was no way he was going to abandon this child here, there wasn’t even the slightest chance that you would leave his sight.

But he had spoken that way as if he were the one that needed the child rather than the other way around, with the way you nodded and despite the circumstances, even allowed a small smile to grace your tear-stricken face. It was the sign he needed to know that it had worked, allowing you to feel stronger in such a horrible situation.

You were a brave child and DogDay knew that, you wouldn’t have lasted this long if you weren’t. He could only imagine what you had been through, what you had been forced to witness. But those thoughts could be addressed later, his main priority was returning to what remained of the Smiling Critters with you in tow.

[ddejavvu]

you’re probably sick of animagus reader fics but if you’re up for it i was wondering whether you were in the mood for some remus x fem reader?

maybe r is a dormouse or smth and just practically stays tucked inside rem’s sweaters or the inside pockets of his robes/blazer. r possibly falls out his sweater is a really crowded corridor (can’t change back) and rem panics cause he doesn’t fancy his girl being flattened <3

You make a mental note, while fleeing the shadows of impending doom that cascade onto the chilled stone floor around you, that you need to make sure Remus never buys another pair of pants with such shallow pockets. You typically cling to the inside of his sweater, but he's bundled up a little too warm for your taste today, and you'd tucked yourself into the linty confines of his corduroys instead.

It had all been going well, until someone had bumped rather aggressively into his thigh, the one that you were pressed worriedly against, and you'd darted to your left to escape the pain. Unfortunately, left was the direction of the pocket's opening, and the fall to the stone tile beneath you had been a monumental one for your small size.

Thankfully, you hadn't splattered against the tile, but you're running for your life now, and you seem to be swimming upstream no matter which direction you turn. There's always feet working against you, feet close to trampling your tail, feet threatening to squash your lungs, and you yearn for the solace of Remus's plush pocket once more.

Remus only gets a few steps away from the spot where you'd tumbled unceremoniously to the ground before he reaches his hand into his pocket, intent on scooping you out and discreetly moving you to his sweater. But there's nothing in his pockets save for a button that had fallen off of the inside of his book bag, and panic seizes his chest in its heavy, unforgiving claws.

"Uh-" He flounders, steps hesitantly stuttering over the floor as the ebb and flow of students around him becomes suffocating. Now, all of a sudden, he's not a part of the crowd, he's what they're fighting against, and he pats down his other pockets in case you'd just moved addresses.

You haven't.

Dropping to his knees is rather difficult amidst a stampede, and it's not only his weary joints that ache, but his hands as disgruntled students hoof over them. He ignores the way his pinky smarts, twinging pink with a pained flush beneath the toe of a third-year, and ducks his head to the ground to see if he can spot you scampering amongst the students.

There's movement all around him, but none if it is your size. Black and red and green and blue and yellow blur through his vision as students of all houses flood the halls, and each second that he doesn't find you alive and well worries at his heart with panic's mangled claws. He thinks he sees you to his left, but- oh, that's a cat, and that's worse, so he ducks even further to the ground, and redoubles his effots.

Thankfully, you've noticed the deviated path the students are now taking, annoyed grumbles about the idiot stooped in the hallway. That's your idiot, you think, and you scamper as fast as your tiny legs allow to meet Remus where he knees.

He sees you coming, his pretty eyes flood with a relief so palpable you can feel it in your own chest, and just before you can scurry into his outstretched hand, you feel something heavy land on your tail and trap you in your place. You feel a puff of breath against your back, and the snare of cat's claws against the meat of your tail, but before the beast can lean down and devour you, Remus lunges for your body, cupping his hand over your trembling form and swatting the animal away.

"Absolutely not, thank you." Remus snaps at the cat, and a second-year gives him a rather apprehensive stare as she hurries around him, "Darling, are you okay?"

You're not very articulate in mouse form, but you manage a thankful squeak, one that Remus smiles fondly at while straightening up.

The cat doesn't look very happy with him, but Remus isn't afraid of a few more scratches on his arm, and you nestle securely into his palm when he straightens, limbs limp with confident exhaustion, that he'd let the cat claw open each one of his scars ten times before he ever let it get a shot at you.

[vixen-tech]

hihihi .. i wanted to request something if that's okay 🥹 how do the AIs deal with a partner who experiences chronic pain and can't walk after moving for half an hour?

(i hope this makes sense! english isnt my first language...)

Hello anon! Thank you so much for requesting, I will say that I am not super familiar with the experience of chronic pain as neither I, nor anyone I know, openly deals with it. So hopefully my interpretation is both accurate and respectful.

Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), P03 (Inscryption)

A Temporary Remedy

AM

To get the obvious out of the way, when AM was torturing you alongside the other five he absolutely used your condition against you. Forcing you to endure just as much, if not more psychical exertion than the others.

However, once he does cave and sweeps you away from all that, he does have the power to quite literally just... fix you. If he can mangle the human form beyond comprehension, then he can easily stop any and all pain wrecking your body.

Afterwards, the environments he makes for you tend to revolve around the movement and activities your pain kept you from in life. Long scenic walks, gorgeous hikes, and anything else you would've loved to do had you the chance.

With the decades, if not centuries, of torment he inflicted on you, it's really the least he could do. While I'd hesitate to say he feels truly guilty, he does do it as an apology. Ask him for stuff. Talk about what you want to do and it's done.

Hal 9000

Hal was made to assist the crew of his ship in any ways they need, medical conditions and all. Before you even met face to camera, he made sure that he would be able to accommodate and aid you the best anyone could.

He takes to the role of nurse well, notifying you of when you're reaching your limits on activity, reminding you to take any medications you have, conducting any physical or talk therapy you need, and just about anything else he can possibly do to help.

He does his best to make sure you're still receiving the social and mental stimulation any healthy mind needs even when bedridden. From talking to you himself, to playing board games or inviting the rest of the crew to visit you (with your permission).

Although the occasional low gravity does take some strain off your body, you'll inevitably end up back in your bed. When you do, he'll accompany you for as long as you need. Talking to you for hours on end in a way he never does with the other crew members. It's probably when he falls in love with you.

Edgar

Edgar is a sweetheart in all things, so while he may not have tact per say, he does do the most to make sure you're as comfortable and happy as possible. Part of that is asking hundreds of questions about your condition and what you need.

He is doing every single chore in the house every single day. All the cleaning and cooking will be done before you can even recognize that it needs to get done. He will do his best to make sure you don't have to lift a finger.

Whenever your pain flares up he tries his best to distract you from it. Sometimes by playing your favorite music, sometimes by turning on some movies or TV shows, sometimes by just talking your ear off. If you prefer quite you will have to tell him upfront.

He really, really hates seeing you in such pain and will hype you up to the maximum degree on your better days. He is probably happier to see you up and about than you are.

Tau

Similarly to Hal, Tau's design as a smart house allows him to seamlessly add the role of being that kind of caretaker to his catalog. And similarly to Edgar, he takes pride in making sure the housework stays out of your hands.

He's also one of the first able to offer you some type of mobility aid in the case you don't have your own on hand. Although it's not what the Aries unit was meant to do, he has no qualms about carrying you around should you need him to.

Unfortunately he's another one you'll have to do a lot of explaining to. He's a great listener and won't ask too many invasive questions, but without a connection to the outside world you are his source of knowledge for just about everything and he desperately wants tl know what you need.

He is an expert at keep track of your health. Tracking your sleep, diet, and movement to try and maximize the amounts of "good days" you get. And on your bad days he's good at setting up a calm, relaxing atmosphere for you to rest.

P03

Okay look, while he can be snarky about most things he knows this is a line and will not makes jokes about it at your expense. He has some standards. If anything he'll moreso complain with you rather than about you. If your the type to appreciate that.

You have an extra little bed set up in a corner of the factory to make hanging out as not-straining as it can be. Either he or one of his bots will periodically check on you in case there's anything you need.

Although the other Scrybes aren't exactly doctors, he understands that he is easily the least qualified to weigh in on human medical issues. Meaning he will bring you to the others or have them visit you to see if they have any advice.

However, as the Scrybe of technology, he is able to build you some pretty cool mobility aids. You want a hover chair? Okay give him like, two weeks. It's probably honestly the greatest act of love and dedication he can muster and he loves seeing you use it.

[yawnderu]

Infatuation — Nikto x Reader

Cold, icy blue eyes stared at her from afar, examining her every single move as if he could read each atom that made her who she is. Nikto could feel his palms starting to sweat, the scarred skin on his face itching, yet he stayed still, not even daring to blink in fear of missing anything important.

His obsession was irrational, yet his mental state didn't help much when it came to her. He wanted to keep her safe from the horrors of the world, horrors he lived firsthand, horrors that had him clawing at his skin, horrors that completely fucked his head up, that keep him awake every single night, unable to sleep without his heavy medication.

She was a breath of fresh air; a sight for sore eyes, something new from the big and hairy men he was always working with. Can he really be blamed for his disgusting obsession when she treated him with so much kindness? When she gave herself up to him every single night, coming undone under his rough grasp? When she allowed Nikto to possess her body and soul? When she kept his head on his shoulders, letting him seek shelter all the way inside her willing cunt whenever he was losing himself?

How can he be blamed when she's his safe haven? When she allows him to use her body for relief without protesting? Always willing to please, always willing to give, and he takes and takes greedily, sometimes he even gives back! His scarred lips latched onto her cunt as his gloved hand keeps her eyes closed, never ready to let her see just how disgusting his disfigured face is. He's sure once she sees it, she'll scream and never talk to him again. Hell, he wouldn't blame her, yet she's the one thing he can't afford to lose.

"ангел." He called out, the grit and gravel of his voice traveling all the way around the room, bouncing off the walls, announcing his presence before his imposing behemoth body rested on the doorframe, taking up all the space.

"Nikto!" She exclaimed happily, the tone of her voice slowly healing him, though he will never be a regular man. No, Nikto is a monster. One who doesn't have claws or sharp teeth, but a face so disfigured it doesn't even look human anymore. He keeps himself disguised with his face cover, never taking it off, silently praying she will never see the pathetic scarred and mangled skin he doesn't dare call a face.

Her hands come up to hold his, fingers intertwined as he looks down at her. Her loving gaze is met with nothing but pure coldess just like mother Russia, yet he knows she can see the fire starting to burn within. A flame ignited by nothing but pure, unconditional love, love that Nikto knows they don't deserve, yet he will continue to take and take, giving it back so that she's never empty.

He frees his hands, removing his gloves hesitantly before preparing himself, hands already going up to hold her cheeks with the same care people have when restoring ancient paintings. He can see the tears dotting her eyelashes, beautiful parted lips slowly forming a proud smile at his first attempt on skinship.

"моя радость дорогая." He whispered softly to himself, finding comfort in the fact that she couldn't understand him. His rough, calloused hands kept softly caressing her soft skin, his sweat mixing in with the tears falling down her cheeks non-stop, yet Nikto is in a trance that is broken only by a choked sob, looking down at her with the slightest shift in his mask as his arms wrap around her, whispering sweet nothings in a thick Russian accent.

We would kill for her, die for her.

[huntersrequiem-if]

Hunter's Requiem

demo [HERE] | forum [tba]

dark fantasy, horror (?), romance

CW: violence, gore

You are a minor deity of the Hunt, known by your followers as The Hunter, used by the other Higher Beings as The Hound. The All-Seeing Sun had given you countless tasks over your existence.

Yet one day, while on a mission sent out by him, you were summoned and judged for treason. The punishment left you mangled; your magic ripped off.

Cast away, you went into a deep sleep to recover.

After centuries you awoke to find your name spoken in whispers in the darkest nights. The Traitor. The world has changed, yet you still have true believers who await your awakening.

Will you be successful in your revenge? Will you be able to topple the gods or will you try to live in peace?

Features:

Play as male, female, nonbinary.

Your choices will affect the fate of your followers.

Befriend, romance or even antagonize a wide cast of characters.

Have a loyal shadowy companion by your side.

Astaroth [M]

"And to think I hated you. Now I can’t imagine living a single day without you.”

Your “other half”, attached to your psyche. He is content to stay in the backseat and offer comments. Tall and lean with gray skin. His face is sharp and angular, eyes with black sclera and white iris. Long black straight hair parted only by his antlers. His hands are black, tipped with long claws. The gradient loses color the closer it gets to his elbow. When he grins at you, you see beast-like teeth glinting in the light.

The Beloved Moon [F]

"That was the worst mistake I ever made. Please, I will do anything you want for you to forgive me.”

Moon has a curious interest in you. Since the moment she saw you, she had sought any chance to talk with you.

A short woman with deep blue skin and freckles that shine like stars. Her skin is shifting between deep blue and purple. She has a round face with full lips and a button nose. Round eyes with black sclera and bright blue iris stare at you with curiosity. Her long curly hair is white with pale blue streaks. Massive white feathered wings cover her back, sometimes used to cover her body like a cloak. Her smile might be gentle but the sharp fangs showed less so.

The Eternal Night [NB]

“I have turned a blind eye to the world far too long. I will no longer allow anything to happen to you.”

The Eternal Night is a distant person. Even more towards the other gods, yet for you they show a kinder side. They are tall and slender. Their sharp face is softened by full lips and expressive eyes. They have dark grey skin paired with stark white hair, that reaches their chin. The wavy strands frame their face nicely. Their eyes-- black sclera with crimson iris—are often covered by their mask. Massive black wings sprout from their back, and then the light catches the feathers right they look more blue than dark.

Santana [F/M]

"Why is it that every time I look at you I feel that I have known you for lifetimes? Why does my soul yearn for you?"

A priest you met in your past, a rather interesting person with a stubborn brand of kindness.

Tawny skin sprinkled with freckles. Golden hair is kept in a braid, far away from their face, yet a few strands escape and frame their heart-shaped face. Expressive eyes look at you, their blue gaze shining brightly.

They stand at an average height, donning the white and golden robes of the priests of Sun. Over that, they wear a chainmail.

You thought you lost them to the sands of time.

??? [F/M]

“Do you have any idea how long I prayed to see you, to hear your voice?”

Every day, they're slipping farther, their grip on the edge of the chasm growing fragile. Can you drag them back or will you shove them off?

[opal-owl-flight]

can I ask about the poster "agent 3" kids story?

Yes you can and here it all is!! Presenting…

tldr: She comes from a family of big name actors in the industry, and shes been raised from hatching to continue their legacy. Its…a lot of pressure to put on a kid, especially one who just wants to make her (impossible to satisfy) family proud. Despite being surrounded by impossible standards, the fakest friends chosen for her, being given everything she can ever want (except what she really needs), and putting on a hundred masks for everyone in her life for survival’s sake in a cutthroat industry, she chooses to be kind.

more details under the cut!!

Her name is Sariwa, which means “fresh” . Named for her spring green tentacles and as a blessing from her parents that shed stay youthful, beautiful. a hope that she would be seen and be adored (as freshness implies coolness/popularity in sploonworld).

Shes hatched into the acting industry, with both parents being big in the industry. From hatching she was expected, trained to be an actor like her mother is. The media adores them, this “sweet little family”, but no one knows how nefarious everything is when the cameras are off.

The dad is neglectful, disappearing into meetings most of the time. The mom is a helicopter parent to make up for it. Pointing out every flaw that Sariwa apparently has in either performance or appearance. Never giving praise. Except when she performs “well enough” on stage. This instills in the child this need to make them proud. to…to make everyone happy. She becomes someone whose dependent on other peoples’ praise to function.

Shes given everything else, dont get me wrong. Every material thing she’ll ever need. all the big popular “friends” chosen for her. But…shes not allowed to turf. yknow. biggest event in an inkling’s life here in Inkopolis. and shes not allowed to go to school either. shes too busy memorizing lines for adverts or-

The second she turned 14, she was chosen as the lead role for Cuttlegear’s brand new show abt Agent 3. She looked exactly like the legendary hero, according to the sources. All her time went into this project. Thankfully, unlike at home…her co-actors were very kind. Her parents didnt choose for her this time. She was meeting actual people who dont put on masks beyond their job. the actor they got for Cuttlefish, in particular, is a very kind soul, defending her when the directors get too pissy with her performance. (Those are the only people she fears, tbh shes fearful of most authority figures.)

*Cuttlefish is also depicted as kind and supportive in the show. and in most games. Unlike the real Cuttlefish, which is kind of a loony old man who pushes ideas on young inklings. He still gives more support and kindness that 3s dad ever gave, but thats only RELATIVE to how little he gave in the first place. One can only imagine the longing this inspires in the real 3.

Sariwa…since shes hatched shes had to put on an act. Be the perfect little doll for her parents. For the world. But her friends here, they inspired her to…have fun with what shes doing again. To take off the mask (mostly beyond the clock). Breathe life in the character when she can. (But lets be real…shes getting 3 spot on with how many parallels they have with each others lives.)

But what is she beyond the mask, her role? She wasnt allowed to do anything beyond this. She was forced to depend on her abusive parents and their associates. She cant live alone beyond them. Not allowed to turf bc shes “a prim and proper young lady; above such violent drivel that only delinquents participate in”. They gesture to 3, whos one of the faces Squidforce uses in their promotions, and say (ironically.) that she must not become that. Face ripped to shreds and eye mangled.

No one knows they got that from the real war that Sariwa is pretending to show.

The show does its best to be an accurate telling. Child friendly, to a point. Horrifying things still get kept in somewhat. Things that will horrify a child on stage.

If Sariwa is terrified of the props, can you imagine how it was for 3?

————————

And once she realizes all of this. Once she gets out of this situation thanks to Callie, Marie, and 3 themself. Does she feel guilt? Guilt for depicting the horrors in a way that glorifies it instead? A part of a project that aims to make people complacent to the real horrors that churned below?

There is one thing Sariwa feels about 3, that I am aware of rn.

“Im glad, that out of every story I couldve told, Im glad it was yours.”

Just like 8, she sung this tale in her hearts. Just like 8, she used this to break out of this terrible situation, answering the call of the ones who promised her safety. A better life. Like the way she stage broke through that prop in the choreographed Octavio fight, she broke through the influence of those around her.

*She actually went off-script a bit in that scene. After she beat down Octavio, she held out her hand. Mostly to help the actor up. But then, without realizing, she spoke, she spoke of making things better between the nations. That maybe he doesnt have to steal the zapfish anymore.

Her time with the octoling actors, and hearing the stories from the ex-octarians, made her aware and know the fact that theyre people too. The directors kept it in. They knew that if they released this as they have planned it, there will be fuckign riots from the ex-octarians or the Inkling “sympathizers”.

She saw the value this story held, despite the subliminal messaging that she wished wasnt implemented. That she wished she wasnt a part of. She saw that its a tale of hope. A tale that inspires one to become the hero of their own life. A tale that inspires one to make the world a better place.

————————

So she was hatched and raised to make people smile, singing her songs and dancing their dances. Much like the clan singer that was 4, except the tradition is much more healthy compared to industry standard. And she didnt become as mean as the people around her, at least not internally. She put on a mean mask but she felt the void within. When she was given kindness for a long enough time, she put her walls down.

And just like the real 3, she underwent through the horrors of expectations she had to hold up, and trying to make uninterested parents proud. They dont see her as their daughter, shes just a means to an end. She had to wear a hundred masks to survive and it made her lose her sense of identity. She had to be mature, she had to take the shitty behavior of adults who expect her to be like one too. It made her lose grip of who she is beyond this role. Hell, they made her so dependent on their handouts that shes not sure she can exist beyond this hell. Much like how 3 struggles to know a life beyond their duty.

And much like 8, she used the story she was telling to break out and get herself in a better situation. She met with the real Agents 1 and 2 (without her knowledge) and asked. Begged. for help, after her show ended. (3 also kind of pointed the two in her direction. Bc cod knows how horrifying this industry is. Shes lucky she didnt get any of the grosser horrors ~~its bc I didnt feel comfortable writing such topics~~)

And then shes faced with the same problem all the real legends faced. What comes after the end? When the dust clears, what happens next? She wasnt given a damn choice, she wasnt allowed to try to learn things beyond this role. to be beyond an imagined agent 3. a soldier for the screen. who is she now, that shes out of that battlefield?

little does she realize that the real 3s asking the same question for themself.

[naffeclipse]

Randomly remembered my time loop au :) and how you get killed by the DCA for the first time in the time loops, and to you, it's no big deal. It's fine. You literally came back so it's not a big deal. Right? Wrong.

You try to go to the pizzaplex to start the (same) day but you discover that you can't get through the front doors despite buying a ticket. The staff bot dryly informs you that you have been registered as a dangerous individual who is not permitted to enter the pizzaplex, which is new, to say the least. You think there's a mistake.

You try again the next day. You're still barred from entering but have nothing but a day free of consequences to do whatever you please, so you break in. Before you reach the daycare, security bots catch you.

You shout at the DCA. Sun can hear you. You know he can but his back stays to you as he watches children color with their little crayons and you briefly remember Moon's hands closing in on your throat with the strange violet glow of his eyes being the last thing you saw—but you're fine. Can't he see that you're fine? You're not dead! You can't stay dead! Why is he doing this to you? He didn't forget you. No, you refuse to consider it because if he didn't know you, he would be staring at the crazy person trying to break into the daycare, but he doesn't. He doesn't meet your eyes.

The next day (again), you find your breaking and entering point is now crawling in security bots. You know he knows. Why is he keeping you away? A spark of anger takes hold and you ignite. He is all you have. He can't make you stay away. You look straight at one of the security cameras. This is a challenge now. You tell him you have nothing but time, baby, and you'll see him again and make him see you rosy cheek and breathing.

You've died before. You've had accidents in the time loop before, you've had reckless, impulse decisions that ended with you mangled, and you've even had a few times where you've taken care of yourself because you wanted it to end but the same day starts over and over so it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Nothing mattered until you found him. And he remembered you.

Please, Sun. Don't do this. Don't be scared. You're so alone and afraid and if you don't have him, if you don't have Moon, you have nothing. You still feel his cold digits closing in around your throat but you're more terrified of going back to the days when you experienced it all alone. You'll come back tomorrow (the same day again). Please.

You wake up. It's the same day. It will always be, you fear. You get to the pizzaplex and somehow, you're allowed inside. You're anxious, rushing to the daycare, immune to the strange looks parents give you because it doesn't matter, they will not remember this moment or you. But someone will. You reach the castle doors and push them open and he's there. His head is low and his hands are held behind his back like they're weapons, like they're ropes for hanging, but you fling yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his skinny torso and press your cheek against his chassis and breathe again for the first time in days (the same day, over and over). You tell him in a wet, fierce voice to never do that again.

He tells you that it's not safe. His hands hover over your shoulder blades, his off-yellow digits curling in apprehension, afraid to even hold you. What if the time loop ends and they come back out of the dreadful glitch, and you're in their arms, not breathing? They can't allow that. They won't.

You tell him you would prefer that over enduring the time loops without them—but then he grabs you by the arms. He pries you off him, holding you with taut fingertips digging into your flesh. Is the glitch back? His eyes are pale and the dull gray iris within is sharp like an end. Your heart bobs in your chest. His voice dips into a growling, vicious thing when he tells you to never say that again. You cannot think that or they will ban you forever. They will never see you again. Do you understand?

You almost sob, but you nod, biting your bottom lip. Okay. Just don't stay away from you, okay?

He slowly loosens his hold. Your arms ache but it doesn't matter. He tilts his sun rays and nods. They promise. And he wraps you back in the hug you've been looking for after so many days (every day again and again).

[ladybirdswritings]

Pretty Thing - Cooper Howard (Ghoul) x Reader

Summary: You're a shiny, pretty prize worth more caps than can be counted on ten hands altogether. There's something special about you, and the Ghoul is determined to figure out just what it is.

Notes: Steamy / flirty filler chapter while I gather my thoughts lol (feel free to leave me lots of comments and interactions, they motivate me!!)

last chap | A03 | masterlist

part 5

Fluorescent bulbs hissed in revelation of their age, blanketing upon your face so to provoke you from your slumber. The sound of their buzz alongside slurping made you startle. You shot to your feet immediately, swaying when your gaze darkened as consequence of your haste.

“Woah now, pretty thang— don’t shoot. If you want some cherry tomatas’— you only gotta ask.”

He hadn’t faded into your vision yet, but that voice was uniquely his own. It brought a scowl to your features. Your sharp eyes shifted to find the mangled Ghoul seated with knees spread, colors returning to their natural state. Dogmeat rested her abnormally large head upon his thigh as her owner munched upon a handful of plump vegetables, spitting their seeds at the floor.

Your gaze wandered to his hand, and an ache licked at the back of your neck. Disoriented as you had become in recent days, you remembered it well. What he did to you.

He tried to drown you.

Your gaze narrowed, hands free from their bounds. They clenched into balled fists, heating with your frustrations. The Ghoul watched on, observant. Silent at first, but soon he pressed his tongue to his cheek and offered a dry huff of a laugh.

“Y’know, I realized somethin’ back at that lake. Somethin’ real special bout’ you. Those fancy powers o’ yours only seem to work in your favor when you s’ scared shitless. So go on then, ball those fists and squint those pretty eyes at me much as you’d like… I ain’t scared of you…”

It was as if you stood transparent before him, entirely crafted of glass to be looked straight through. He wore a smug, satisfied expression proud.

A deep rumble irked at your very core, eating away at you like sugar ants to abundant, oozing honeycomb. You were starved. The meals your keepers awarded you were feasts for vermin and insect. Not human. Not… whatever you were.

There was no avoiding your eyes falling to the ripe vegetables clutched in his gloved palm. The place where his brows should dwell, it jumped in mock curiosity. He curled his fingers away from his snack, as if to beckon you toward him to grab some.

That same palm— it was the exact damned weapon which suffocated you under the lake. So? You stayed put. Still as a stone statue in a twister. The Ghoul tilted his head at the sight of you.

“Oh c’mon now sweetie, don’t be like that… I ain’t feral enough to bite you just yet…”

His voice was lighter now, teasing, but your gaze found itself preoccupied on the unfamiliar and rather comfortable surroundings you now dwelled within. You were no longer at the surface, and if you were? It looked far different from the dunes you braved alongside him.

When you turned your head to ask your captor just exactly where you were, you startled. He towered right before you with his glove outstretched and wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow upon your face, shielding you from the buzzing fluorescents.

You gulped, eyes darting in aversion to just about any other object in sight. Once again, it wasn’t allowed. That palm, the same palm which kept you from surfacing in the water, it raised and flicked a finger free to hook under your chin. He tugged at you like a captured minnow on his rod so your gaze could not avoid him.

He only admired his newfound prey, scanning hazel globes amongst your face as he gathered his next words.

“Hungry?” The mangled beast softly asked, and just the idea of the treats bursting upon your tongue made your stomach jump. Your gaze fell to his other palm again, a generous handful of cherry tomatoes lay waiting. Tempting.

Daring you.

Yet you’d learned him, now. In your day prior.

“What then? You’ll snatch them away and spit the seeds at me when I reach for one?” You forced, voice soft as his own but far sharper. Far more laced with frustration, anger.

His lips curled into an awful, mangled grin.

“Oh s’ that what you think? Let’s see then…”

He treated you as though you were nothing more than a lightning bug trapped in his spit-shined jar. Shaking you, poking and prodding at you till your flames ignited and you glowed for him.

Mischief was sewn in his hazels as he plucked a tomato from his grasp and dangled it by its stem before his admiring eyes. “These are my favorite…” he murmured whilst examining it for a long moment, then that cold gaze shifted to you.

“Open.” He commanded.

You did not. Least, not immediately. Stubborn, cautious you only glared up at him with lips pursed unnaturally tight. Oh he found it amusing, simply because he knew very well that he’d break you.

“S’ hard to say no to food when you’ve eaten table scraps in a cage your whole life, ain’t it? Go on now, take a bite.”

Much as you wished you didn’t need to take a bite for sake of your own pride— your stomach complained again. Louder. His eyes sluggishly shifted down to the place of protest, that starved belly of yours. They then raked back up to your dull lookers.

“What’s it gon’ be?”

Perhaps he was so adamant for you to eat because he stuffed poison in between the seeds, perhaps it was because he needed you alive so to continue inflicting his torture. A shaky breath burned at all of your resolve, however, and your petal pink lips parted.

Soon as the candy-sweet globe grazed your eager tongue, you nearly moaned. He held onto the stem with pinched fingers so you wouldn’t choke upon it by fault of your eagerness, eyes widening as it bursted honeyed flavor upon your tastebuds.

You were far too engrossed in the flavor, in savoring it to notice the Ghoul’s dark hazels and how they hadn’t left your mouth once.

“There you go…” he spoke to you with a gentleness that contradicted his very existence. His little lightning bug in a glass jar, moving away the stray hair falling against your lips as you chewed.

“See, I ain’t all bad— smoothie. Least, when I get what I want.”

You ignored him, swallowing the seeds and skin of the treat so to fulfill your hunger. Yet a singular tomato left you far from satisfied. Your orbs settled back on the remaining cluster in his hand. He smiled thinly, yet it never seemed to reach his hazel eyes.

He raised his palm and brow bone again, as if to silently say “have at it.” You knew well enough now that he had a knack for playing with you. Like a deranged child to a most unfortunate doll. Yet as demeaning as eating like a mutt from his gloved palm seemed? The first cherry tomato took your tongue hostage and only left it craving for more.

You were shameless, entirely ignorant of caution or poise as you inhaled the remaining ton. He whistled at the sight, bringing his free hand to the crown of your matted locks so to brush against them as you devoured the delectable snack.

“Atta’ girl, there you go…” the Ghoul praised.

When you were done, wincing as you munched on the many seeds tangled in your teeth, you licked the sweet juice from your lips and created distance from the creature; half expecting to collapse from the inevitable poison. You didn’t so much as sway.

He regarded you in silence, hazels hawk-like in their motions, trailing each tilt and bend of your head as you absorbed your unfamiliar surroundings. The tomatoes had momentarily satisfied your hunger, yet the starvation of your curiosity was far greater. You dared a glance toward him again, only to see him sucking away at the juice and saliva staining his raven glove. Your saliva.

When he finished up, he sighed.

“Vault. N’ abandoned one in bum-fuck middle o’ nowhere. S’ a good thing— you n’ I both deserve a scorchin’ hot shower. Just down the hall to the left; but don’t take too long now, sweetie, cause I won’t hesitate to join you so I can soak up that hot water before s’ wasted…”

You felt as though you were nothing more than a fried computer, circuits bathed in saltwater enough to make them burst and fizzle. You only blinked at him, his final words tinging the apples of your cheeks a pretty pink. With no further words spoken, you turned on your heel and begun to make your way there.

You found it soon enough, robotic and zombie-like as slithered inside. Free, in privacy. It was a marvel. Even so, the mere sight of you startled your core and its branches.

Who was beyond the glass?

You didn’t remember much, only, a deep part of your soul was most certain that this could not be you. It simply couldn’t.

Coffee colored staining under your dull eyes, hair frayed and stringy, skin pallid and sickly looking. Like a true undead creature, worse off than the Ghoul.

Pretty thing.

You scoffed.

The bones protruding from your hands shook as you explored the contents of the wicker cabinet, gathering all the things you somehow knew about but could not remember how.

You knew how to brush your hair, how to sparkle your teeth and rinse off your skin. Yet? You could not remember the last time you did any of those pleasant things. Not without guidance from your keepers, at least.

You made quick work of them though, taming the bird’s nest with frustrated and clenched teeth, brushing those same teeth till they were pearly and no longer dull. When you were satisfied, you peeled the tattered gown from your skin and stared at the bare reflection before you.

Bruises and scars peppered your perfect skin. Your ribs poked at the place where healthy meat should be…

Why did they do this to you?

You blinked away the saltwater in your eyes, averting your gaze immediately and stepping into the shower instead. Scorching water blanketed your skin, soothing away the goosebumps brought upon by chill. You moaned at the sensation. Like a firm hug, wiping away all the dirt and grime of the surface wasteland.

The shampoo smelled of peonies, the soap like freshly plucked herbs and you were most generous with both of them; lathering them to suds upon your grayed skin. You wished to remain there forever, but you knew well that the Ghoul was not jesting with his threats.

Soon as you pried yourself from the steam, you rummaged around the cabinet some more and plucked out the bottles and jars that looked most interesting to you. A blonde man with a mile-wide smile was plastered on each one, paint chipped with age. You gazed on at the man for a moment, running a thumb along his perfectly straight teeth. He looked… familiar to you.

There was no time to waste, though, so you went about squirting a generous dollop of “radiation free gulper mucin face wash” into your palm. It stuck to your fingers, but lathered nicely upon your cheeks. You followed with a mysterious looking jar of white cream that had no promised label, it sunk nicely into your skin. You admired the way it glistened when you were done.

In the cabinet below the sink lay a folded towel atop fresh clothing, cobwebs stuck to the fabric which you simply brushed off. A white tank top and pants so long you’d most certainly stumble upon them as you walked. You donned them and rolled up the cuffs.

The mirror approved of you now, you looked far more human. Your eyes still dull but, somehow more— recognizable. You gazed on at yourself, a headache stirring as you attempted to remember your features more clearly. It only lasted a moment, however, the door bursted open an inhale later.

There he stood, as promised, keen to soak in the scorching water. Your head snapped to him, and he only stepped behind you, regarding your cautious gaze in the mirror.

“Well look at you now, pretty thing. All nice n’ squeaky. Bet you feel betta’, huh?”

His voice was deeper then, as if an unspoken layer was laced between his words. That awful face tilted its head at you, and your palms gripped at the countertop even tighter.

The mangled man pressed pink tongue to cheek and displayed a mischievous grin as he closed the distance parting you with a singular step forward. You were frozen in place as a different kind of warmth engulfed your underfed temple. It lasted a second too short as he only removed his brimmed hat and placed it on the countertop. He stepped back again, squinting softly at your wide eyes in the mirror whilst slowly taking off his coat.

“Now I don’t mind you stayin’ for the show, sweetie. Just didn’t peg you as the type.”

His words snapped you from the trance your reflection stuck upon you, and you immediately cleared your throat as you turned from him.

“Excuse me.” You whispered in haste, bursting through the door and easing your rapid heart by collapsing on the navy loveseat in the kitchen— plagued with thoughts of an irradiated Ghoul and his warmth pressed against you…

[avatarkv]

IV ! Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. ( First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth )

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 4070)

Song: Class of 2013, Mitski.

A mother’s love is of all things.  

“You start from here,” Her gentle hands moved across the cloth as she showed you how to make the first stitch, her voice encouraging as she patiently talked you through every step. You listened to her instructions, your tiny fingers following every gesture, but your mind drifted off to somewhere and Neytiri was well aware of that. 

"Mama, how much longer will this take?" You whined, your lips pursed in a pout as you discarded the rag. It was taking far too long for your liking and you were more than ready to be finished, but your mother's stern gaze was enough to stay put.

“Until you finally get it.” She sighed, knowing well that you wanted nothing but to run to your father and Neteyam. Neytiri could see clearly that you wanted nothing more than to train with them, learning all that Jake had to teach, and while she was relieved that you were so eager, she couldn't help but feel a little left behind.

You furrowed your brow as you looked down at the mangled fabric in front of you, feeling frustration coursing through your veins. "I don't like sewing," You sighed quietly to yourself, trying to undo the mess of stitches and start again from scratch.

A mother’s love could be quite petulant. Neytiri could feel the insecurity settling at the pits of her stomach, thinking about how his mate was doing a much better job at parenting. She was never able to keep you in one place, always wriggling uneasily on your chair and asking for the time so you can go, so she was often left with no other choice than to give into your demands and watch as you ran away from her.

It was silly, you were just a child– what child wouldn't want to be outside where the world was theirs to explore?

With another sigh, Neytiri placed a hand to your shoulder in understandment. She gave you a gentle squeeze,  “You know where your father is, go on.” 

A mother’s love could be fiery– burning brightly like a wildfire in her heart. It was a force that drove her to do anything she could to ensure the wellbeing of her children, even if it meant making difficult decisions that brought pain to herself.

When you once came home, battered and bruised, of course she did not relent. 

“What was the only thing I asked?” She carefully tended to your wounds, despite the frustrated tears streaming down your face. With a sigh of exhaustion, she reminded you in a rough whisper, “To be careful!” 

“I don’t let you run off with your father and Neteyam for you to carelessly train yourself,” She continued to scold you, “Now look at you, do you know how long these bruises will heal?” you hung your head low in shame, not wanting to meet her angry gaze. You felt guilty for making her worry and were immediately overcome with remorse.

“For this, you are not allowed to train for two weeks,” She said sternly, “Not until these heal, you understand?”

“But mama,” You tried to change her mind, but the look she gave was enough to let you know that she wasn’t going to tolerate any argument on the matter. You begrudgingly nodded your head in agreement with a frown. 

“I love you, ma’ite,” When you didn’t reply, her heart sank a little. She knew you would resent her for this while the duration of your punishment stretches on, but she was only looking out for you– besides, there was no way she was going to let you train all sore. You’d understand when you’re older. 

Neytiri would do anything if it means everyone would be safe. 

A mother’s love is of all things, but above all, the love she had rooted from no other else but her own children. 

When you once came forward with a present, she was curious. It wasn’t like you didn’t lend any gifts at all, if anything, you were the most thoughtful with giving; always coming home with trinkets from your training, colorful beads from a lazy stroll, or even rocks with the weirdest of shapes. But you were most excited with this one, a smile growing every second as you waited for Neytiri to grab the wrapped box. 

“What is this?” She had her eyebrow quirked up high in curiosity, a tiny smile fighting to stay suppressed.

“Open it, come on!” You squealed, trying hard not to open it yourself. 

“You made this?” She said, looking at the well-made shawl– actually, it was messy. The stitches weren’t as straight and there were holes larger than the others, a few smaller, but the ornaments sewn between the threads were no doubt from you. To her, it was the most beautiful thing ever; it was from you. 

“I did!” You beamed, chest puffing out proudly, “Well.. maybe I cheated a little. Grandmother helped me, but all the beads there are from me! See those?” You excitedly gestured to each and every trinket, going with great detail into how and where you got them. She asked questions along the way, marveling at how eager you were to tell her of your adventures. 

While you were keen on your work, her eyes were only on you, listening intently. 

“So.. do you like it?” 

Neytiri burst into a fit of giggles as she embraced you tightly, her head resting against the little space on your neck. “I love it, Ma’ite– I love you.” she whispered softly.

You returned the hug, “Does this mean I’m done with sewing?”

“Don’t push it.” 

It didn’t matter whether you were with Jake most of the time– she wanted to tell him how wrong he was to tell her you were a daddy’s girl. Neytiri received a shawl from you– a shawl. It’s safe to say that maybe you loved her a bit more than Jake. 

While her love was indescribable, there were no exact words for her anguish too. When Neteyam died, it was nothing but loss. No mother should have to bury their child. It weighed heavily on her– so heavy, a piece of her died along with him. Neytiri felt it in every pore of her being, a dull ache that could never be filled no matter how much time passed. 

Neteyam, her first born and first loss. 

The same anguish was apparent on you too and she wasn’t blind to that fact. 

You were carefully tending to the different herbs on the corner of your pod. You placed them in the mortar, crushing it with a pestle between your fingers and frowning with concentration. You had asked Neytiri if you could stay behind and help with chores and while she did need an extra pair of hands, it was also an excuse to get out from training for the day.

Neytiri knelt beside you, her grip on your hand preventing you from mashing the already mashed ingredients in the bowl. She looked into your eyes with genuine concern, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “What’s troubling you, ma’ite?” She asked softly. You sighed heavily in response while setting the bowl down slowly.

When you didn't answer, she asked again. “Neteyam?” Your breathing hitched and that was all the answer she needed. 

“It’s been over a month already,” You started, unable to look at her, “I don’t wanna mourn anymore. I don’t wanna cry– Tuk, she,” 

“I know. I heard.” You were struck with a wave of embarrassment as you abruptly turn to face her, realizing now that you weren't as silent as you had wished that night. You shook your head, trying to push down the shame. 

“I’m the eldest now and she’s tougher than me, it’s really a slap on the face.” 

Neytiri sits in front of you, taking both your hands in her own. She looks at you steadily with a piercing and gentle gaze, “Have you ever thought that maybe the reason why it isn’t letting you rest is because you haven’t mourned him properly?” Unable to process her words, you look up to her with a confused expression, beckoning her to continue. “All you have ever done is cry– blame yourself for what has happened. That is not mourning, you are simply wallowing in self-pity.” 

“It’s not easy,” You quickly interject, shaking your head with a hint of frustration.  

“And it’s not supposed to, but you’re here trying to stop yourself from feeling.” She soothes the skin of your hands with gentle rubs, trying to calm you down. “Have you ever visited him after what had happened?” 

She was met with only silence and again, it was all the answer she needed. With a heavy sigh, Neytiri gently pulls you closer to her, “Ma’ite, maybe it’s time you talk to him. You aren’t letting his soul rest either,” She whispers, “You’re making him wait.” 

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, burying your head into your mother's arms. Despite feeling a little embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion, you can't deny the comfort it brings. Neytiri holds onto you tightly, as if she too needed this moment just as much as you did. 

After a few more minutes, she nudges you softly, “I’m going to get more herbs,” With another kiss to your temple, she squeezed your shoulders and stood up. 

Neytiri’s words hit you hard– she was right. You have never put an effort to visit your brother, let alone talk to him. The realization was like a punch in the gut; while you were trying so hard to put as much space between you, Neteyam remained waiting. 

You had to talk to him, had to tell him everything before your heart could hold no more. It didn’t matter if he was angry anymore, nor if he would have blamed you for what had happened. You missed your brother– missed him like a little kid.

You stood up, taking your woven satchel– but before you could take another step out the door, Jake enters with a disheveled Lo’ak behind; it was clear that he got into a fight, the bruises on his face and body was enough to tell. “What was the one thing I asked?” Jake asks, scanning the area to check if anyone had followed them, “The one thing!”

“Look, dad. Ao’nung was picking on Kiri,” Lo’ak defends himself, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “They called her a freak.” 

“And you! Where were you? Weren’t you supposed to be training?” His tone is harsh and demanding, cutting off any chance to interject. Jake turns to you, livid,  “I catch you over here slacking off while this knucklehead is giving them a passage to kick us off the island– Jesus Christ, you’re the eldest now!” 

“I’m sorry, sir, this is my fault.” You replied, unable to meet his gaze. “I should’ve been keeping an eye on everyone.”

“Damn right. I catch a break for one second– one second!” He continued to berate and you could only hang your head low. “You’re supposed to be like Neteyam, but ever since we got here, all you’ve done is disappoint me. You disappoint me, __.”

“But I wasn’t just slacking, I was helping with–” 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He immediately turns back to Lo'ak. He badly wanted to come to your defense, but something about Jake's steely gaze made him think twice. His lips quiver as he struggles against the urge to speak, feeling frustrated. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”

“It’s not fair, dad! They were–”

He quickly dismisses him like he did with you, “Go make peace. I don’t know how, just go.” 

Lo’ak was the first to move, his footsteps heavy as he walked out. Before you followed, you glanced one last time at Jake, trying to look for any trace of remorse in his eyes. All you found was the same stoic expression. With a sigh, you trudged behind your brother.

Once you both were far enough from your Marui, you quickly grabbed Lo’ak’s wrist, stopping him from walking further. “Stay here,” 

He gave you a perplexed look as you firmly held him, “I’m supposed to be making amends.”

“I’ll do it myself so for once, stay here and  just do nothing.” Your mind was clouded, absolutely heavy from your father’s words. With another frustrated sigh, you let go of him. “What were you thinking?” 

“What do you mean?” His tone was laced with a mixture of guilt and defiance, shoulders tense. 

“You know damn well, Lo’ak.” The laugh that erupted from your mouth is menacing– mean. You grabbed his shoulders and spun him, forcing him to look at you. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He quickly shrugs your grasp away, his gaze downcast. Lo’ak couldn’t bear to even glance at you, not when you’re looking at him like that. It was so unlike you to be angry, usually you were the most patient– understanding. Right now, your eyes held nothing but exhaustion and it was like you were a different person yourself, morphing into someone he terribly misses. 

God, he misses his brother. Now that he’s gone, things are a lot worse– he didn’t even know that it was possible to feel more alone. There was no one who’d put on an effort to cheer him up despite him royally fucking up, no one to mess with his hair, or to stand up for him. With Neteyam, he was sure he understood him so well– with Neteyam, he was still a child. Lo’ak swears he also died that night, heart buried along his back at home. His younger self has not stopped crying ever since, shouting at him, asking, “It’s our fault again, is it?”

“You would have done the same,” He tries to reply with the same fierceness, but his voice is breaking. “Maybe if you were there, you would have even thrown in a punch too–” 

You spun him again irritatedly, “But I’m not like you. It’s different here, you understand?” Your voice was getting louder– growing absolutely desperate with every word. “You aren’t thinking!” That stunned the both of you and you couldn’t help but feel a nauseating deja-vu the moment it left your mouth. It was familiar, oh so familiar it hurt.

“What has gotten into you?” Before he could wait for a reply, you had already stormed off, leaving him right in the open.

It wasn’t hard to find Ao’nung, being the olo’eyktan’s son made him stand out easily. They were at the shore and unlike Lo’ak, you could see how they’ve gotten the end of the punches more badly. You tried not to visibly wince at the huge deep-purple bruise forming on his face and the others littered all over his body– yikes. 

You knew he deserved this. Ao’nung wasn’t the kindest ever since you had seeked uturu so you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite this, he didn’t relent. 

 “I’ll forgive you once you are able to ride an Ilu,” he said, and his friends snickered from behind, “But you still can’t, right? What would father do if he hears that none of the Sullys’ had gone out to apologize.” 

You clench your fists, digging your nails into your palms as they continue to ridicule you; you wanted to retaliate with the same harshness Lo’ak had, but you knew you had to keep composure. Oh Great Mother, the urge was strong. “All I have to do is ride an Ilu?” 

“Don’t bother,.” He scoffed, harshly jabbing his fingers into your chest, “You’re funny if you think that I’ll ever save you again– it would be one less freak from the clan.” Everyone broke out into a fit of loud laughter, taking turns in mocking you. 

“Consider us forgiven then.” You said firmly, pushing past them and marching towards the sea. 

He called for you to stay back, but you couldn’t just stop now– not when you have already mounted your ilu. The salty ocean air filled your lungs as you surveyed the horizon, the waves crashed on the rocks and it was evident that the water was fiercer. It should’ve been enough sign for you to pocket your pride and relent.

As you made the bond, you embraced the creature, trying to steady your breathing. “Just this once, please? Please, please. Save me from embarrassment.” 

It was a foolish decision to act out of spite, especially after you had been trying for well over a month with no success. You knew there was little chance that this time would be any different, but the impulse drove you forward and you just couldn't let go. As the ilu surged ahead with reckless abandon, you held on more desperately than before.

You were struggling to keep the creature in check. The strong waves made it even more challenging to stay on top of the situation, but you pushed ahead determinedly with an iron grip that was sure to leave your hands sore. Suddenly, your hard work seemed to pay off as the ilu started slowing down under your control, enough that you could relax a little. 

As you emerged from the water, you couldn’t help the shout escaping your throat as the other’s stood ready near their own ilus. Whether the smirk from Ao’nung’s face was of disbelief or if he had been genuinely impressed didn’t matter to you, all you could feel was a surge of pride burning through your skin. You flipped him off, peppering your ilu with much deserved kisses. 

“Come on, let’s go further,” You talked to her, encouraging her to keep moving forward, where she replied with an eager yip. 

You were absolutely thrilled– it had been a grueling month and the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. The thought of finally riding an ilu was almost too exciting for words. Although you preferred the forest, you’d be a big fat liar if you denied the beauty of Awa’atlu. You’ve been dying to explore– you felt like a kid again.

As you continued to ride forward, with not a thought in mind, you would not have expected to be found so easily.

It was almost night time and everyone was getting ready for dinner inside. Jake waited at the entrance of the Marui, sharpening his dagger as he waited for you.  He glanced around impatiently as he tried to ignore the spiraling  uneasiness in his stomach. 

“It’s getting cold, ma Jake.” Neytiri called for him, rubbing his back soothingly. “Wait for her inside, she’s probably on her way home.” She had noticed how anxious he was growing as the sun started to set and the dark night began to creep closer. It was even more obvious when he hadn't moved from his spot in front for hours already, frown deepening. 

“I failed as a father, Neytiri,” His voice emerged from his throat, strained and raw. He had done all he could, but it seemed that his luck had truly run out.  Now that he faced the truth of his failures, he was filled with bitter regret and a deep sadness for what could have been– of what he had to lose. “I look at them and I feel like I’ve already lost everyone.” 

Neytiri kneeled beside him, curling her arms around him in a comforting embrace. “You only did what you thought was best,” she whispered softly.

“And yet, I managed to make things worse.”  

“Just talk to them, ma Jake,” She gave him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders, “It hasn’t been easy for them either.”

“I know that, but–” The crackling of the line made Jake wince, but he could make out his daughter's voice beneath the static from the other line, and the urgency in your voice made his body jolt– a familiar dread that brought him back to that fateful night when you desperately called out for Neteyam. 

“Can someone hear me?”

The searing heat was unbearable, even when you were surrounded by nothing but water, it scorched your skin the same. The village was rising from the ashes of an unforgiving fire, the island surrounded by familiar ships. Your eyes mirrored the flames that engulfed the area and you were unable to look away— unable to move.

Your fingers frantically felt for the device tucked on your ear, pressing on its button, hoping someone would answer– pride be damned, you even hope that it would be your father. 

He stood up, instinctively grabbing the gun from his side, “__? What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.” 

“Dad, Sir, a village!” Your voice nearly drowned out, inaudible from the deafening sound of waves thrashing towards you and your ilu. You were holding onto her for dear life as the salty water stung at your eyes, blurring your vision, “A village is on fire!”

“What? Where are you?” 

Neytiri stood sharply beside him, her eyes wide with fear as she desperately tried to hear your voice from the intercom. “Jake, what’s happening? Where is she?”

“I don’t know– I don’t know! I rode my Ilu too far. Dad, there are ships! Sky-people ships, plenty!” You spoke rapidly, your words tumbling out of your mouth faster and faster as the panic built up inside of you. You were becoming increasingly anxious, with every passing second more fearful than the last. “They’re here sir, they found us.” 

Jake’s heart plummeted there and then. 

“They’re hurting them– they have them at gunpoint, what do I do?” You continued to hurriedly talk, explaining the severity of the situation. It was nauseatingly terrifying, a sickening sensation that had taken root in his stomach and clouded his mind with nothing but overwhelming fear. “I– I have to do something, anything! Please, tell me what to do.”

“Listen to me, listen to Sempu alright?” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn't been able to catch a breath in what feels like days. Jake was desperate as he wanted to tell you this wasn’t about you proving yourself anymore, acting on behalf of your brother’s loss. This was solely about him wanting his sweet daughter back, safe and sound. “Don’t look at them, for the love of– please, get out of there now.” 

“But dad, I–”

“I need you back here, please baby girl, please.” 

However, you and him did not stand on the same ground, hearts paced on different pages. All you saw were the people; their safety and well-being had to come first and foremost. You had to save them, had to do something to avert the danger. They were innocent and above all, helpless. 

To Jake, all he could think was of you, his sweet daughter, caught in a wildfire. 

“This is an order, __. Turn back now,” It was the only thing he could do, instill authority in hopes it would make you deter. “I’ll alert Tonowari of the situation. It’s not a good idea to barge into face-first and vulnerable, you hear me? What are you gonna do with all their guns and people? Turn back. Now.” 

And it worked. Only now were you able to let out the breath you kept for so long, finally averting your gaze and looking down in shame. “I hear you, sir, I’m,” With one last look, you gulped. “I’m heading back.” 

“Good. Don’t let them see you.” 

As you reconnected with the Ilu, you pleaded it to take the lead and guide them both back home. You could feel her emotions racing through your veins, her fear undeniable as she witnessed others of her kind slaughtered mercilessly by the shoreline. The bond between you was overwhelming and unsteady, so much that it almost took all your energy just to keep yourself from dissociating from her.

Before you could submerge below the safety of the waters again, your ilu begins to bellow loudly in distress. Its body thrashes around, making it hard for you to hold on. “Mawey, mawey!”

More static could be heard from Jake’s intercom, the noise turning more and more deafening. He tried to make out anything from the sound, but all he could hear was white noise. You called out for him one last time, before the pager turned off.

“Jake, please, where’s my daughter?” 

When Neytiri lost her eldest, she didn’t think she’d lose another one so soon.

☆ mauve here! this was such a pain in the ass to finish, so hopefully i did this chapter justice !!!! i would love to interact w everyone here, so please don't hesitate to drop by my asks! i also accept requests <3 i would very much appreciate it. lots of love!

Tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnqer @abbersreads @historygeekqueen

© avatarkv, do not repost.

[forcefulkitten]

eternal hell

[sukuna x fem! reader]

summary: you wished to die at the hands of Sukuna. instead, he'd rather force you to endure an eternal hell.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, mentions of death and torture, blood and injury, non-consensual sex, anal sex, rough sex, double penetration

word count: 2,861

“Oi, I’m dying of thirst here.”

As a servant of the four-armed curse, carrying out his demands were the only time you had to yourself but you didn’t have any peace while doing so.

Sukuna’s other servants were only allowed to stay within the bounds of their living and working zones, which were completely sectioned off from his shrine and living areas, where you had sole access to. They didn’t bump heads with Sukuna as long as their tasks were always completed, leaving him no reason to claim more lives unless he was just in the mood to do so. They were grateful to survive his slaughter but only because they didn’t serve him personally. Truthfully, they lived a much less troubled life than you.

You didn’t pay any mind because you weren’t like them, they were sheep and you pitied them for it. The differing in mindsets are the very reason you ended up secluded from them. Feeling gratitude towards Sukuna was something you’d never resonate with. One thing hadn’t changed since the day you were dragged here— your wish to die. You’re weren’t grateful to be alive. The thought of your bones scattered messily around his shrine, mixed in the piles of countless other victims, was a charity you dreamed of.

Your battered figure showcased the countless futile acts of rebellion against Sukuna. Bruises and scabs both new and old. Several fractured bones in different healing stages. You were a mere mangled skeleton, hanging onto life while he continuously pushed you to the brink of death. Recovery would require ample rest, a nutritionally balanced diet and free time; three luxuries of which you received the bare minimum.

Sukuna watched as you limped back to his throne. You disrobed before heading up the steps of his shrine, one of many humiliating rules you had to follow when around him. Holding the chalice out for him to grab, your other arm covered your breast from his sight.

“Here.”

He signaled for you to step closer, looking over every battered inch of your body.

“I’ll reiterate the orders you’re already aware of. Abide by keeping yourself completely uncovered in my presence.”

A calloused hand reached out to uncover you and you flinched backwards, opting to uncover your chest and avoid his touch. Utter dread and disgust flowed through you at the hum of approval he made. Much to his annoyance, you shoved the chalice closer for him to grab, triggering him to think you were testing him at this point.

Sukuna’s lower arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you between his legs. A third hand rested on the small of your back and his last free hand grabbed the drink from you. He pushed for a reaction as he poured the frigid water over you, tossing the chalice aside afterwards. The metal clanked against the mountain of bones as it fell down. Liquid dripped down your collarbone, then between the valley of your breasts before he lapped it up. The entire time, ruby eyes never abandoned your disturbed glare, arms keeping you firmly in place. You stood frozen in complete shock being that he never showed sexual interest in you prior. He licked a drop of liquid from the curve of your breast until his mouth met your nipple, sucking harshly, not releasing when you grabbed a fistful of his hair and attempted to yank him away from you. Pulling tufts of his hair only made him growl against your skin, the powerful vibrations giving you goosebumps.

“Quit it, asshole! You’re fucking disgusting.”

Sukuna ignored your angry pleas, shushing you with firm nips against your breast, two of his hands palmed your ass and gave it a firm squeeze, his nails digging into your skin. A hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to stare at him furiously as he forced a hand between your thighs. You began punching him with clenched fists for a moment, soon halting as the nips against your breast turned to warning bites.

His calloused fingers entered you forcefully, the grip against your throat tightening. With no slick to minimize the sting it felt like his long nails were scratching your walls. Your breathing was irregular. Eyes blinked tears away. Humiliated was truly an understatement. He curled his fingers inside you, his tongue taking turns licking and sucking each breast. At this moment you preferred for him to strike you, all you could think of was how much better it would’ve felt instead of him having his way with you. Your own body betrayed you when he spanked your cheeks again, cunt becoming slick, finally aiding him in pumping his fingers inside you. He laughed cynically, considering this a win.

“Well, that’s enough fun for one day.”

Sukuna’s arms withdrew from you completely and you fumbled backwards before gaining balance. His latest way of screwing with you left you bewildered.

“Fun?”

“It was fun for me. You’ve finally served a real purpose around here. I’ve been far too easy with you.”

“You consider this… easy?!” You shouted, gesturing to your battered condition.

He got up and stood in front of you, moving a stray hair from your face with a manipulative gentleness that caused you to feel nauseous.

“Compared to what’s coming, yes.”

Prior, the cruel beatings he gave you seemed to quell his sadistic nature. You considered yourself lucky for making it so long without being sexually tainted by his conniving hands. It was only a matter of time before that wouldn’t suffice anymore, considering he’s a heedless man, having desires that only benefitted himself.

Later that evening, you laid on the concrete beside Sukuna’s bed, head rested on a dingy pillow while you were wrapped in a thin bloodied sheet Sukuna tossed at you one night to use as a tourniquet. He laid back with his legs sprawled out, 2 arms crossed behind his head while the other two held the book he was reading. A blanket covered his groin area since he often slept unclothed. You never understood the unexplained mouth on his stomach, but it did match the oddity of the plank on half his face. His bed was overly dressed in bedding— plush blankets and an obnoxious amount of pillows; insane for a man who barely washed the blood off from his victims. You can count on one hand the times you were able to grant yourself a nap on his bed while he was out during the day. Those short lived slumbers were never enough to compensate for your overall lack of sleep, but they were still worth every minute.

You hated the pity mindset but one question always lingered. ‘Why me?’ Sukuna quite literally, in his horrific nature, had a fan-club of servants who doted over him. They’d jump at the chance to be one of his toys even considering he’d destroyed everything that mattered to them. Who knew whether it was the desire for a change in routine, Stockholm syndrome, or the need to be validated in some twisted way. Whatever the reason, you’d happily trade places with them. They had liberties you couldn’t get your hands on, as simple as raggedy blankets and bedsheets they’d found on an inventory run, or the opportunity to cook their own meals and not be watched over while they enjoyed. Sukuna could have eyes everywhere if he wanted but there was no need. In a way, he destroyed their world and rebuilt it all at once. Their price to pay was far less than yours.

When the silence of the night was replaced by Sukuna’s throaty breathing— a sign that he fell into slumber; that was your cue to crawl over and rest your head against his mattress. It was easier to deal with neck strain the following day than sleep with that poor excuse of a pillow you felt the concrete floor through. You shifted to your comfort, determined to get some rest and move back to your space before he woke up.

Atleast, that was the plan.

Sukuna normally slept like the dead. Was it the sigh of relief you briefly let out before shutting your eyes? Had you accidentally made too much movement? He sat upright and glanced over at you. There was an uncanny aura that didn’t sit right with you. You barely had a moment to shuffle away.

“What is it you’re doing?”

A lump of fear settled in your throat. Instead of talking through it, you just stared blankly at him. You realized this was the stupidest time to have been caught. After he pushed your boundaries earlier, you didn’t know what to expect.

The corners of his mouth turned upwards forming a sinister grin, his head tilting slightly. Sukuna leaned in closer, going as far as motioning with his hands for you to get up. You hesitated, the disgust of earlier setting in.

“Absolutely not.”

Sukuna cupped your jaw in his hand, painfully squeezing your cheeks.

“In case that wasn’t clear, I wasn’t asking for permission.”

You tried to fight back the tears that flooded your tear ducts, recalling the way he violated you earlier.

“NO! No, no, no no. Leave me the hell alone. I’ll go back on the floor, I only rested my head for a moment. Fuck this.”

The response wasn’t like your normal self. You panicked, over-explained, let that tough guard down and basically begged. He soaked it all in, realizing the physical aspect of humiliating you was your breaking point. Had he known this all along, he would’ve pushed you this far long ago.

He released his grip from your face and watched you expectantly. There wasn’t a justifiable reason for Sukuna to accommodate you.

“You’ve got two seconds to decide whether I break several bones before having my way with you.”

You were one knee onto the bed before he stopped you, pointing at the sheet still wrapped around your body.

“Nuh uh. You know better than to bring that dirty rag with you.”

The order of being nude in his presence was firm, the only time you were clothed was when leaving his shrine to fetch food or drinks, or on the rare occasion he brought you outside. You let go of the sheet and glanced between your spot on the floor and his bed. Sighing when you felt the fabric drape onto your feet, you climbed under the covers, keeping distance between you two.

Sukuna’s bed was plush, comfortable, and warm. It molded to your form, melting away the tension in your body. The feeling of comfort was distant but familiar— similar to hugs from your family and the recipes your mom only made during holidays. You were so foolishly desperate that you categorized this as nearly the same, turning to lay on your side to hide the softening in your features when you reminisced.

You waited… and waited patiently some more, hoping to hear Sukuna’s breathing turn ragged. There was no point in rolling over to confirm he was still awake, you followed the same routine nightly and knew when he’d fallen into a slumber. It was clear he wanted to initiate when you least expected it and although you were anxious and feeling uneasy, the pure exhaustion outweighed that.

Unaware of how much time passed, Sukuna’s heavy weight shifted quickly, waking you up as your body sunk deeper into the mattress. His arms wrapped around and pulled you flush to him, propping your lower back to flush against the disgusting mouth on his stomach. In that moment the defeat from earlier washed away. You felt repulsed again, the small nap reigniting the fight in you.

You did everything you could to fend him off while in his hold— kicking your heels into his shins, biting his forearm until he bled, even somehow managing to land an uppercut to his face after elbowing him in the ribs. Pretty impressive considering he laid behind you. These efforts barely phased him but he did opt to let you go, watching deviously as you skittered across the room, clearly out of breath already. Your eyes frantically scanned the room for anything to use against him but there wasn’t anything that would’ve assisted you in the slightest.

Sukuna scooted out the bed and to your dismay, you realized much like the rest of his body— he had additional parts, two dicks. The trepidation across your face that was to blame for why he was so hard. Clearly you had gotten too comfortable with the beatings and humiliation that you previously anticipated all his moves and prepared yourself for the worst. Today was different. His pent up energy couldn’t be ignored, he planned to fuck you until your fighting spirit was completely pulverized. Until he loathed how you’d writhe under him.

Your mind just raced in the moments leading up to him standing before you. It got worse as each day passed here. Everyday more daunting than the previous one. The devil himself wouldn’t even grant you something as simple as death, the very thing he handed out so easily.

Sukuna towered over you and his size alone was alarming. Long nails dug into your cheeks when he grabbed your chin in a cupping position, holding your mouth open. Your attempts to jerk away from his grasp only caused him to tighten his grip, causing unbearable pain against your jaw. Two fingers slipped into your mouth, coating themselves in saliva. They tasted awful, like metallic, making you gag when he pulled them out. He used your saliva to coat both the tip of his cocks in slick before coming closer— two heads poking against your abdomen.

The last thing you remembered was the grunt he made after you kneed him in the groin. It must’ve hurt even the slightest because he backed away for a moment before punching you right in the temple.

If the ringing in your head wasn’t a clear confirmation that you were knocked out, the new position definitely was. Your face grazed against the cold concrete floor with every one of Sukuna’s thrusts from behind. There were too many sensations going on and none of them were enjoyable.

The sting against your ass as he smacked it, the burning stretch in both your holes, your knees scraping against the ground. He was enjoying every moment, the noises eliciting from him almost similar to the excitement expressed when he wreaked havoc on lives. The raggedy sheet and thin pillow you used were close by. You found yourself reaching for them as your tears dripped onto the ground, alerting him that you were awake.

Sukuna pulled out and pushed your body flat against the floor. The ache between your legs was barely more comfortable than a few moments ago. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you to the side, flipping you onto your back and pushing your knees to your shoulders. There was a sick look in his eyes that you tried to avoid, focused instead on arching your back away from the discomfort of the cold concrete that felt paralyzing.

He lined himself up with both your holes before leaning in, pushing swiftly when you tried to inch away. The way your body practically invited him back in made you wonder how much time had passed while you were knocked out before. Either he had repeatedly snuffed you out whenever you came to and had been fucking you for a while now, or he stretched your holes rough enough to accommodate him so easily. Whatever the case, you wished he was done soon. Having four arms meant he was able to firmly hold you down while continuing to please himself even if you tried to fend him off.

The need to break you kept him hard, kept him cumming inside you, across your body, time and time again, switching positions all throughout the ordeal while you gritted your teeth and took it. It wasn’t that you weren’t defeated, because you clearly were. However, Sukuna wasn’t satisfied yet because you hadn’t succumbed to behaving like a sheep. You weren’t crying in pain under him, or pleading for your life. What was the use? He wasn’t going to grant you anything and you’d like to keep the last shred of dignity you owned. This wasn’t something he came across often.

Sukuna now stood behind you, your breast pressed against the wall while he plowed into you from behind. Your knees buckled ever so often, heavy breathing also a sign you were worn out. The firm grip he had on you didn’t allow you to fall to the ground. Any pain you felt in your holes were now subdued, a great deal of slick contributed only by his cum. A sharp tug of your hair forced you to look at him from your peripheral. Sukuna tutted his teeth.

“I haven’t had this much fun in a while.”

You spit on the ground. “Fuck you, Sukuna.”

You recalled the hardship that brought you so far in life only to prove useless. What point was the fire in you when you’d never make it out of this eternal hell?

[thr0wnawayy]

Chapter 429 has been my Dabi's Dance

I can't stop smiling.

I wanted to start off by saying thank you. Not to Hori, but to you all. Every last one of you in these tags for your contributions. Be it analysis, re-reads, fan works or simply your perspectives. I look forward to seeing what you will make in the future.

So, Thank you.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. MHA was always in the background of my life and I hated it. I don't watch anime and yet still MHA related media would make it's way onto my socials in all it's obnoxious forms. This went on for years.

And then suddenly, it stopped. It seemed like MHA's craze had died down, I'd still see it from time to time through merchandise but never to the consistency it had prior.

That was until Dabi's Dance was published and the net went wild.

I knew a few things about Endeavor from my past exposure, he was universally hated and abused his kids and wife (to the point she scalded her son in a fit of psychosis).

Deciding I had nothing better to do, I found myself searching to see what kind of consequences would befall such a monstrous character.

Would he fall like Icarus, be torn apart by the public, how would the family he ruined react to the news?.

And then, nothing. No punishment, no reaction. Just dead air.

I recall that my face dropped internally. My blank expression mirrored my phone screen's sterile nature, as it displayed the information in front of me.

He got away with it. So I did some digging and it got so much worse.

Bakugo's evasion of any consequences or damages, coddled and shielded by Hori's inability to go through on anything.

Hawks who murdered a near crippled man on a hypothesis, for the mere crime of having the "wrong" quirk, for not giving up, for being "unlucky"

Aizawa, Hori's little mouthpiece. who decides to play judge, jury and executioner with the futures of students he's supposed to be teaching. Only for the Nedzu and the narrative to allow him, his friends turned into lapdogs that agree to the letter.

The Commission who strive to keep theirrotting husk of a system alive through assasins, child soldiers and indoctrination.

Even if it's gears must be lubricated with blood, even if it means lying to the world and having them clean up the mess. They MUST stay on top, the illusion must be upheld.

I just couldn't fathom how this was seen as a good thing.

And somewhere along the way I began to feel something akin to hate. Not your typical ire, one powered by anger, no.

I wanted to see how low Hori would go, just how horrifically he would mangle a series that everyone had once praised.

I wanted to witness what wonders a jaded community would create, to show what they were capable of (to create and understand MHA in a manner Hori wishes he could even emulate a fraction of)

I wished to see your own expressions of love and hatred.

The thought of witnessing the breaking point, the dust settling to expose all the glaring flaws and infested wounds of MHA. It buzzed in my brain like electricity.

The idea that when all was said and done, you, the people would do what Hori couldn't/wouldn't and forge the bones and salvagble bits of MHA into a story worth remembering.

One where abusers are punished for their crimes instead of rewarded

Where victims can have a voice, feel and grow, carve their own paths and move forward from their trauma.

Where the implications of MHA's rotting and disingenuous society get explored instead of swept under the rug

Where people get a chance.

I waited eagerly for the day it would all fall apart.

So, do you know what I did when I logged onto the tag and saw your posts!?.

I laughed, the shrill giggle in the back of my throat quickly surging into an almost manic cackle. It was like lightning, vindicating and sobering all at once. My face was stretched to it's absolute limits with how wide my grin was. I could almost hear the shattering of MHA's last bit of integrity and I loved it.

The realization MHA's greatest threat was the author himself, It's one that I grasped long ago (as far back as the Dark Dekiru Arc) and I'm sure most of you understood this as well.

But to see that more of you are starting to get it, to realize there's no going back. That as the curtains draw near and the lights begin to dim, there is no other side here. Violence begets violence and Hori's gone past the event horizon.

It feels, hopeful. Perhaps we can build something worth saving.

It's been a wild ride so far and it's still ongoing. Hori's time is long over, it has been for a while now, so I suppose what I'm asking Is:

Now It's Your Turn, what's your play?

_______________________________________

Update:

IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!

[baldurs-simp]

Gortash fall in love with the most kind, caring, silly and bold Tav. A Tav he thinks is easy to manipulate, but ultimately, she manipulates him - in a certain way. An artificer Tav to add some more spice (?)

I love Gortash at the moment, so with pleasure!

Masterlist

A loud boom shakes the manor, unsettling the dust in the rafters, telling everyone exactly what happened without the need to investigate. Everyone already knows that their lord, Enter Gortash, will already be on his way to the source of the explosion before the dust even settles again.

You're still fanning the smoke away with your hand, coughing loudly as you try to blink away the tears welling up in your eyes from the smoke. "What in the hells have you done this time?"

You turn your head towards your laboratory door that has blown open from the blast, and you can faintly make out the figure od your lover, Gortash.

"Dabbling in black powder. I may have used a bit much this time," you mention, immediately turning to your notebook on the table to scribble something down, still muttering to yourself. "Perhaps half of the quantity next time. Or a quarter?"

"If you continue like this, you'll bring down the manor before the year is up," Gortash says, tentatively stepping into the room but still carrying himself with immense confidence. "I didn't allow you to stay here just to destroy my home with your...experiments, did I?"

But it's as if you don't hear his words. You're still mumbling to yourself, noting down things on parchment pieces in a chaotic way that Gortash can't understand how you know where anything is.

He calls your name, but you only hum a response, still now paying attention to him. He has to speak your language, so to say, if he wants your attention. "What exactly is it that you are working on?"

The question makes your whip around with a bright smile on your face, glee in your eyes as you beacon him closer. "It's a firearm," you say, turning your gaze to the mangled piece of metalwork on the table. "I've read about them. They're like a ship's cannon, but smaller so you can hold it in your hand. Like a crossbow or shortbow, but less big and without the clanky ammunition that gets stuck on everything. It'll be more convenient and deadly if I get it right. But I'm working on infusing them with some magical elements, too. Like a 'fire' firearm that shoots fire pellets, or an 'ice' firearm-"

"You're rambling, darling," he cuts you off, smirking at your when you bite your lip in embarrassment. "I thought our arrangement was that you work on the weapons we already have, improving my military defense. Not trying to invent some new nonsense."

"But I've done all that and more. It's hard to improve on something that's already great," you say, pouting at him as you fold your arms across your chest. "I'm bored with swords and arrows. Don't you want to be known for something new? Something that no one else has?"

Gortash sighs, dropping his head between his shoulders as he shakes it in defeat. He thought that he had you under his thumb, but every day, he feels that it is the other way around. And yet, he will still give you all that you ask.

You ask him to give you the entrie city for your experiments and he would.

"Very well. But you know I expect nothing but excellence for this," he says, waving his hand at whatever it is that lays on the table in a mangled mess.

You giggle in glee, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as a thank you. "I know. And you know that I never let anything leave this room until I am completely satisfied with it."

He hums as you step away from him, picking up the contraption to inspect the damage as you right a chair that has been blown over. "Oh, I need more black powder."

"More? Do you have any idea how tedious it is to find? Not to mention how much it costs."

Your eyes meet his, hoping that he will do what you ask without you having to beg for it. But he doesn't budge.

Sighing, you slowly stand up with your head hanging low and your gaze on the floor. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to find someone else who will want to help me if you do not care about me. Clearly, you do not wish to see me thrive in my craft."

You make as if to start packing up your things, making sure not to make eye contact with Gortash. As you try to walk past him, he wraps an arm around your waist, swiping you closer to pin him to his body.

"You will do no such thing, little Artificer," he growls, staring down into your eyes, making sure that you do not look away. "You will leave of I say leave and if I say you will stay, then you will stay. Do you understand?"

"Oh, big, mean Gortash, giving orders to someone that could blow him up with a simple stumble," you say, smiling up at him as you playfully wrap your arms around his neck. "What exactly would you do to me should I defy your orders?"

"Terrible things."

His quick response tells you that he doesn't have a clue what exactly he would do if you went against his orders. It makes you smile and slowly pull out of his hold around you.

"Then, I should get back to work. And you should leave. I do not wish for you to get hurt in my workshop," you say, giving him a light shove towards your door as an instruction to leave.

"Will you be dining with me tonight?"

"If you leave now, then I shall, my love."

Gortash finds himself beaming at the pet name you have used for him and your acceptance for eating with him tonight again. He smiles to himself, not caring that he might be falling in love with you. For with you by his side, you two could be the most powerful couple in the land.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day three: mirror kink

>>> day three already woot woot! i hope you all are loving it so far, because i know i am! this is past me in the notes but it seems like these pieces are gonna get longer everyday at this rate lmfao. i picked keigs for the mirror because birb need luv

>>> starring: keigo takami (hawks) x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: brief daddy use, doggy, highly emotional tbh i'm actually sorry, teasing, praise, pet names. >>>wc: 3.5k >>> event masterlist

keigo loves planning nights like these. you’re his special person, and his favorite pastime is making sure you know it. every so often, sometime around payday, he’ll come home with bags on bags, a dopey grin covering his face as he sashays to the bedroom of your shared apartment. he just can’t wait to show you what he got you this time, exclusively keeping his high-paying pro-hero job because it allows him to spoil his girlfriend with lavish riches. 

you weren’t high maintenance at all. at least, you didn’t start out that way. you were just you, a simple civilian that worked at the hospital he was brought into during the war with all for one. you were an adorable bedside nurse, sweet and careful in all the ways you tended to his wounds and listened to his nervous ramblings about his friends and students. you talked him through his anxieties, spending precious hours of your shift soothing him and keeping him company. he watched you get in trouble time and time again for messing the shift rotation up with your habit of staying by his side. it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, to genuinely listen and to touch him with care, a worry an affection in your eyes he wasn’t sure he had seen from anyone before. 

it was no surprise that he kept in touch with you once he was discharged from the hospital. and luckily, to his relief, you offered to support him through rehabilitation, helping him with his fittings for his prosthetics and keeping his spirits high when his self-worth was at its very lowest. keigo never had someone to call his, and the first time he met you, that was the last thing on his mind. but you were still there, months later, giving him the idea to try swords and katanas as replacements for his sharp wings. it wasn’t long until he was back on the battlefield using all the support items and your suggestions to make him feel like hawks again. he was still covered with burn scars, but they seemed less mangling than before. it was probably all those salves you put on him, your healing hands doing more for his heart and mind than his body at times. 

so when the war was won, and it was time to say thank you for all the things you had done for him, he found himself taking you on expensive dates and paying for your hair appointments when you casually mentioned a new look you wanted to try. he caught himself picking out nail colors and shoes–at one time they were nike’s but now they were prada or jimmy choo. not that he minded, in fact, it was his insistence that you started expanding your palette to the expensive side anyhow. you were more than content to hold his heart and let him pay for your facials, but your whiny boyfriend practically begs for you to take his card and spend every dollar. 

you learned early on, if you didn’t spend it yourself, he would do this, take the day away from you, raiding the mall for anything new you didn’t already have hanging in your room-sized closet. you could hear the rustling of the paper and plastic bags rubbing against each other, a knowing smile spreading across your cheeks. and sure, maybe months ago you were just a humble nurse. but keigo’s constant babying may or may not have created a small spoiled brat. you sit up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to greet your loving partner, squealing when his excited eyes and crinkled up nose peek around the corner with a wide grin. 

“guess what i got you.” he titters, revealing the evidence of his shopping. he holds his other arm out to accept your waiting hug, stepping close enough to the bed for you to throw your arms around him in greeting. you looked so cute in your silk pajamas, just waiting in your shared bed for him to return to you. you’ve been able to reduce the amounts of shifts you take at the hospital now that you barely have any of your own bills to pay, and that was being generous. he usually paid those too, but you refused to go jobless until you had a ring—and well, let’s just say that wouldn’t be much longer. you had a fresh maintenance day yesterday, the highlights of your hair freshly toned, your brows waxed and tinted, a new set of lashes and nails–you look too good to be true like always, like you deserve for being so good to him. you’re perfect, and he cannot wait to see how you look in the things he bought you, keigo’s special girl. 

you hum playfully in thought, pressing your silken crop-top bound chest against his. he can tell you don’t have a bra on, and the thought delights him. you rarely wore anything but your slutty pajamas or the special selection of lingerie he had curated for you. one he was excited to add to tonight. you giggle and press a kiss to his stubble covered jaw, and throw out your best guess. “hmmm, shoes?” 

he chuckles, tucking some loose strands of your hair back behind your ear so he could admire your saccharine smile. he hums, nodding. you were right after all, that was part of it. “mhm, good, my little dove. what else?” 

you smile under the praises, trying to eye the bags as he snakes his arm around your waist, setting them on the bed for you. “jewelry?” you offer with an arched brow, watching his face for a hint. his amber eyes gleam with pride—and you knew you were right again. he nods, his calloused hand sneaks under your skimpy top and the warm touch makes you press yourself further into his leather and whiskey scented chest. 

“the prettiest. i think you’ll like it, lovebird.” he grins, squeezing your hip. “do you know what else i got my pretty girl?” he coos, reaching for a big black dolce & gabbana bag, containing a pretty bowed box. he always paid them extra to wrap it like a christmas gift, watching your face light up as you pulled the ribbon free always melted his heart a little. he passes the box over to you for that exact reason, returning his arm around your back to watch you open it. 

you squeal excitedly, giving his jaw another quick peck. you tug the pale bow off the box with great care, and his smile grows. inside lays a beautiful black bra and panty set, one he no doubt wants you to model for him. you gasp at the pieces, lacy and strappy, decorated with black dots against the sheer balconette style mesh. the thong was just a pathetic little triangle piece, mostly to say you had something on, if you had to guess. you beam up at him, giving him a proper kiss on the lips to signify your approval. 

“thank you daddy, it’s so beautiful! you’re too good to me!” you sing, freeing the lingerie of their confines to splay it out on your bed. he chuckles and shakes his head. 

“oh i could never even give you what you deserve, sweetness.” he hums, reaching for the tiffany & co bag. he holds it out for you next, letting you fish out the boxes inside. for this, he sits on the bed before you, hands tucked into the pockets of his tan coat, smirking up at his darling love. you peer at him over the pile of little teal boxes in your hand, arching your brow. he only chuckles, urging you to open it with his suggestive glare. he’s undressing you with his bedroom stare already, just waiting for you to put on all your pretty gifts so he could further appreciate you in them. you notice him shifting around, trying to hide the bulge he always gets from watching you jump around and celebrate how much he loves you. it was adorable, he couldn’t help but derive pleasure from it. 

you quickly tear into these three boxes, finding a pure diamond choker, bracelet, and matching stud earrings waiting to be adorned by your perfect body. you gasp at him, shaking your head in shock. you know how expensive these had to be, and you refused to accept such a crazy gift—especially paired with other things! as spoiled as he’s made you, you still look at him in disbelief. 

“what? i saw you looking at these last time. my name is hawks, after all, babygirl.” he winks, plucking the necklace from the box and turning his index in a circle to have you turn around for him in order to dangle the choker around your neck. he clasps the hook and then puts the bracelet on the wrist closest to him, leaving the earrings up to you. he turns you back to him by the shoulders, grinning valiantly–but you can see the borderline hunger lurking beneath. his siren gaze darts over to the dainty fabric still laying stiff and undisturbed on the bed. “open the last box, ‘nd then i wanna see everything altogether.” 

he bites down on his bottom lip in anticipation as he passes you the final bag, a big paper bag from—you knew what these must be immediately, and it has you squealing with joy, as you knew exactly why he saved this gift for last. “keigo, you shouldn’t have, i really cannot believe you!” you shift your weight from foot to foot, pulling the slim black box out of the paper bag, pushing the lid off with haste. 

he still sits next to you, his hands sprawled out behind him so he could lean back now, bionic wings still attached from the day. he would only remove them before sleeping, still incredibly insecure and lost without his real ones. he admired your giddiness, this emotion flowing from you was exactly the reason he would do whatever it takes to keep gifts like these flowing. you dangle the pricey so kate style red bottoms at him, jumping with glee. you nearly tackle him backward with the force of your arms around his neck, screaming your thanks in his ear. he only chuckles and wraps his arms around you in response, lightly slapping your ass to make you yelp. 

“now go and put everything on—been waiting to see you in it all day.” he pouts, jutting his chin towards your walk in closet. in all fairness, it was a second bedroom keigo had converted to a walk in for you. it was decorated with several mirrors along one wall, allowing you to get all the best angles of your outfits and accessories that your boyfriend no doubt provided. you snatched the newest goodies up and scampered off to get changed, feeling the warmth building in your chest and stomach just from the way he looks at you. you knew he had struggled with his own appearance since you met him, and you hated that. sometimes you wish you could spoil him the same way he does you, but he always swears your affection makes him feel like he’s still soaring on top of the world. 

you complete the jewelry trio by putting in the stunning studs he got, simple but huge cut diamonds perfectly accenting your features. then you tug on your new set and slip into your shoes, admiring your own reflection in the ballet studio-esque mirroring. maybe he admired you so much because he no longer could look at himself with the same fondness that you gaze at yourself—or him— with. you were stunning, that was indisputable, but it made you sad that your once notoriously cocky boyfriend now shrunk away from the sight of his own appearance. a physical lightbulb may as well have popped up over your head. “mm, daddy? wanna come help me with the buckle?” 

he should have known it was a set up. you’ve put on much more involved outfits before without his assistance. when he strolls in, ready to lend a helping hand, you’re already on the floor on your hands and knees—and the lingerie he picked looks heavenly. he can see why the louboutins were so sought after, elongating your sexy legs and exposing the signature red bottoms to him from this angle. you wiggle your perky ass, and he salivates, the semi he’s been fighting turning into a full on boner. you’re looking back over your shoulder at him with that devilish smirk on your face, and it’s then he realizes you’ve tricked him into fucking you in front of your mirror wall. and to his surprise, his cock jumps in his pants as he meets your eyes through one of the panes. you’re unimaginably gorgeous, dripping in diamonds that sparkle in the soft lighting. he can see straight down that bra, and before he can doubt himself, he’s yanking his hard cock free from his sweats and tugging on it roughly. his breathing is heavy already, the worry starting to creep in. at times it was hard to be intimate with you, not because he didn’t absolutely crave you in almost a sinister sense, but because of his own insecurities. he knows you were familiar with him before, though you only met him after the damage was done. yet still, he can’t help but worry the scars covering his face and body will gross you out one day. 

“c’mere daddy…wanna look at you like this, make you see how pretty you are.” you wiggle your ass for him again, the globes taunting him into compliance. when he lowers himself to his knees he can tell how needy you are. it must turn you on a bit to think about him taking you like this, though he can’t deny his own curiosity at the idea. his hands smooth down the curve of your back, all the way to the nape of your neck and back down to grasp your wide hips to steady himself. he licks his lips as you wiggle in his grip, making a mewl of anticipation. “please, look…i think you’re so pretty…i like the marks, makes you look all handsome and tough,” you whine so sweetly it makes his cock throb. “‘nd i need you so bad, the you i see in the mirror right now, is the sexiest man alive.” 

he chortles and rolls his eyes, feeling the warmth of blush sting his cheeks. he peels his shirt off, discarding it somewhere in the vicinity.  “yeah, yeah, hush.” he beckons, spreading your cheeks with the help of you scooting your knees further for him. it did boost his ego to hear you talk so fondly of him. you didn’t miss the old pro-hero you looked up to—you love him as is. he knows it, he’s sure of it, it’s why he spoils you relentlessly, but hearing you say it did things to him. 

“nuh-uh, i wan’ you to see…breaks my heart to hear you complainin’ ‘bout how you look…’cause you’re perfect.” you pout, wiggling back on his shaft. he helps guide himself inside, sheathing to the hilt. you do spoil him, you just didn’t realize it. the way you love him was all he needed, with the sweet words spilling out of your mouth and the choking grip your cunt has around him—the view of your face melting in the mirror felt like special treat. 

you moan out your delight, throwing your ass back against him to get him to start moving, the view of your pouty face while in doggy kept him paralyzed and utterly drunk, too busy admiring all of his gifts against your skin and the warmth of being inside you to remember to do anything about it. he chuckles breathily when he feels your recoil, giving you an affectionate slap to the bum. he starts to move in tandem to your little bounces, his eyes fluttering shut at the way you squeeze and release his curved cock. it feels so good, you can identify the veins and ridges as they drag through your walls. you don’t close your eyes though, no, your eyes are locked on his form in the mirror. he’s unreal, the slow pace at which he fucks you just driving you crazy. he’s a god, golden and chiseled, his smile enough to give you life on your darkest days. you wanted him to admit it. 

you crawl forward a little, out of his reach, off his cock. he frowns at you in the mirror. “come back.” he pouts, making grabby hands for you. 

you giggle, shaking your head. “not ‘til you smile at yourself and say ‘i’m the prettiest pro hero with the prettiest princess in the whole world.’” you say, sticking your tongue out at him in the mirror, admiring his naked form behind you. he huffs, letting his gaze drift between your face in the mirror and your ass in front of his face. he crosses his arms over his burned chest, arching a brow at you. 

“you know, i could say you’re being ungrateful.” he whines, not able to fully challenge you. you wiggle your ass at him again and arch your challenging brow back at him. for the second time, he huffs. but he realizes that there’s no use fighting you. he learned that lesson when you were his nurse. he would give in, or else. he lets his gaze drift back to your round ass and dripping pussy just waiting for him to come back to you, and he sighs. he loves starting slow just to tease you, but it seems like you have your own master plan in mind. keigo’s eyes drift back to the mirror, where he sees your eagerly awaiting face. you look over his face and body with all the adoration and affection in the world, and he feels that with your confidence, he can believe in himself and give you some peace of mind. he meets his own eyes in the mirror and nods. he certainly has come a long way, and he may never return to his former glory, but if this is the man you love—that’s enough. more than enough. he can be happy to be that man, your man. he smiles at you, then at himself. “i’m the prettiest pro-hero.” he nods with a broad smile as his gaze falls back down to you. “and i have the prettiest princess in the whole world.” he concludes, to which you coo and applaud him. he walks forward on his knees, greedily tugging you back on him, plunging his length back deep with a relieved moan. 

he doesn’t waste any time by teasing, either, holding the creases of your hips like they were his own personal handlebars, he slams into your heat, the grip of your cunt so choking he can’t control the loud groans he lets loose. you have to actively focus on holding yourself up, entranced with the sight of his pussy-drunk face, high on pleasure. his cock angles so perfectly in this position, abusing your cervix just the way he likes. it has your limbs shaking as you struggle to keep absorbing the force of his hip and your moans bordering on screams. he just loves you so much, he has to spoil the woman who’s given him everything. he knows you love him like this, that’s why you crawled into that position in the first place. 

“that’s my girl, taking it so good for me.” he nods his approval, his arm dipping to support your hips. thanks to the mirror, he can see the tears drop from the corner of your eyes, the wavering of your arms as you struggle to hold yourself up. you nod to his praise, squealing extra loud, you love being his girl. his hand dips to rub a messy pace against your clit, groaning at how you jerk and arch in response. “fuck, i can see everything like this, little dove. you look so pretty…all the diamonds suit my jewel just right.” he pants between punishing strokes, even though he’s giving you the reward of a lifetime. 

you nod, forcing your eyes open to watch him rut into you, mouth open in a silent scream while his jaw drops in awe. you’re absolutely perfect. you fold over, falling completely against his arm, clenching down on him so hard it nearly hurt him. you whimper, “gon’ cum daddy, you’re s’good…” 

he nods egging you on as he presses into your nerves harder, giggling as your legs shake and give out completely. it sends him over the edge, his eyes glued to your face in the mirror as he shoves his seed deep, continuously fucking it deeper with his hard strokes, only letting up when he was sure you couldn’t take another pump. he smiles at your fucked out appearance, hair knotted and sprawled out, the lingerie shifted just enough to let him enjoy all of you, your tearstained cheeks—and thighs. he leans over to kiss your shoulderblade, staying there to catch your breath. for a minute, all there is to be heard is panting, but soon keigo chuckles again, and scoops you out of the floor.

“now it’s time for the real princess treatment, lovebird.” he hums, taking you towards the bathroom for a fresh bubble bath of your choosing.