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sherewrytes · 26 days ago

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Love and Gunshots, Eren x Black Reader 9

Gang member Eren x Introvert black reader

Summary: In a dangerous urban landscape, y/n, an introverted Criminal Law student, finds herself drawn into the violent world of the Sixx Gang through her protective cousin, Onyankopon. When she locks eyes with Eren Yeager, a hot-headed gang member, a twisted game of desire and danger begins.

As Eren becomes obsessed with y/n, he threatens to unravel the fragile balance Ony has maintained to shield her from their brutal lifestyle. With loyalty tested and violence lurking at every turn, the lines between love and danger blur, leading to a dark climax where the heart proves just as lethal as a gun.

Genre: Dark Romance/Crime Modern au

Warnings: Graphic violence, drug use, smut, obsession

@msjaeger @hidd3nbimbo @vampimilikis @nova2kss @honeydrzzldpeaches @faerie-soirxx @topshotdivaa @prettypink-princesss @burpzz @niaizzy1623 @jcoleisbetter

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{Since I haven't updated in 3 weeks I wanted to make this long as possible}

Chapter 9: Psychosis

I was dropped off at home, but the unease gnawed at me. My body throbbed with the pain of the beating I’d endured earlier, but it was your face, your memory, that burned in my mind. I needed to see you. To feel that pull again.

My Hellcat was still back with Levi, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was seeing you. I wasn’t sure if it was a need for control or something darker, but either way, my obsession had only deepened.

I dialed Armin’s number, my voice tight as I spoke. “Armin, take me to her place. Now.”

He didn’t question it. He knew better than to argue when I had that tone. We drove in silence, the only sound the low hum of the engine as we sped through the streets. My thoughts raced, each one darker than the last. Your face was all I could see.

Armin slowed the car as we neared the block. I didn’t speak, my gaze locked forward, eyes scanning the quiet streets. The tension in my chest only grew.

When Armin parked a few blocks away, he glanced at me. “You sure about this, man?”

I didn’t answer. My eyes were already fixed on the building in front of me. Without another word, I threw the door open, slamming it shut behind me as I stepped out onto the cracked pavement. My boots echoed in the still night as I made my way toward the building.

The street was mostly quiet. A few lights flickered from windows, casting long shadows on the sidewalk. The further I walked, the tighter the knot in my chest became. I wasn’t just here to talk. This wasn’t about some casual conversation. I was here because I needed you—because you were mine.

I didn’t care about the environment, the smell of old cigarettes, or the distant chatter of neighbors. I didn’t care about anything else right now. What mattered was getting to you.

Eventually, we reached the spot. I didn’t need to say anything more. My eyes never left the spot ahead as I reached for my phone. I typed a quick message to you:

"Come outside. I need to see you."

I hit send and leaned back in my seat, staring at the phone screen, waiting for your response. My heart pounded with anticipation.

I sat back in the seat, my fingers clutching the phone a little too tightly. The cold metal of the car pressed against my back, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was her—YN. My mind kept going back to the way she looked at me, the way she seemed to care, even when I didn’t deserve it.

She’s different.

I glanced at the screen, waiting for the three dots that signaled you were typing. It felt like hours before my phone buzzed.

Her reply was short: "Coming out."

I almost smirked. She wasn’t as naive as I’d originally thought. She knew what she was dealing with, but she was still walking right into it. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. I had her attention, and now it was time to make sure it stayed that way.

The seconds ticked by slowly, painfully. I could feel the pull to get out of the car already, to be near her. It was like a thirst I couldn't quench. My chest tightened just thinking about it.

I won’t lose control this time. I won’t scare her away.

But deep down, I knew the truth. I was lying to myself. Control was the last thing I had, and it scared me more than I cared to admit.

As the car door clicked open, I stepped out, the cool night air brushing against my skin. My eyes scanned the area, waiting for her to step into view. I leaned against the car, trying to keep my composure, but the anticipation was crawling up my spine.

Then I saw her.

She stepped out from the shadows, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating her face. My breath caught. She looked... untouchable, yet within reach. She was still the same, yet everything had changed between us.

She's mine,

I thought, and a dark, possessive smile tugged at my lips.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

I pushed myself off the car and walked toward her slowly, each step bringing me closer to the chaos I knew I was about to create. But I didn’t care. I needed this. I needed her.

reached her, and the moment I did, I felt her eyes on me. She was looking at my face like she was trying to read me, trying to figure out what was behind the facade. I could feel the weight of her gaze, the intensity, but I wasn’t going to let her get to me.

"I'm good," I said, my voice steady, despite the way my chest felt tight. "I just needed to see you."

I could feel the space between us. Her hesitation, like she was still trying to make sense of everything, trying to decide if she could trust me. She doesn’t know, does she? The way she looked at me, the uncertainty—it only made me want to pull her in closer.

But I didn’t. Not yet. Not until I knew exactly what I was going to do with her.

I pulled her close to me, wrapping my aching hands around her hips, feeling her warmth seep into my skin. The way she fit against me—her body soft, her breath quick and shallow—stirred something in me. Something I didn’t want to acknowledge. But it didn’t stop the chaos in my mind. My thoughts were spiraling, my heart racing, and my body ached in ways I couldn’t explain. I tried to steady myself, but it was harder than I thought.

I gripped her waist, my fingers digging into her sides, holding her there, grounding myself in her presence. I leaned in, pressing my forehead against hers, my voice low and strained. "I'm sorry, YN. For dragging you into this."

I said it like I meant it, but somewhere deep down, I knew it wasn’t entirely true. I don’t give a fuck about anyone or anything but myself, I thought bitterly, even as I looked into her eyes, trying to keep my voice steady. I knew she wanted reassurance, the kind words. It was easier to lie to her than let her see the monster I had become. But at the same time, I couldn't let her go. I need her close... for me.

She stiffened slightly in my arms, but I didn’t let her pull away, tightening my hold around her. She’s scared. She should be. She has no idea what she’s getting into. But I couldn't let her think she was alone. No matter how messed up everything was, I had to make her believe I was still in control. Still the person she could trust.

Her breath caught, and I felt it, the tiny tremble of uncertainty running through her body. She didn’t say anything, just stayed there, her chest rising and falling against mine.

God, I hate seeing her like this—so vulnerable, so unsure. She shouldn’t be here. But she’s already in it, whether she likes it or not.

I leaned in, brushing my lips gently against her cheek, feeling the soft curve of her skin under the pressure. "You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into," I murmured, my voice almost too quiet, too raw. "But I won’t let anything happen to you. Not if I can help it." The words left my mouth before I could think, and they rang with a finality that I wasn’t sure I truly believed.

I pulled back slightly, enough to see her face, to catch the flicker of doubt in her eyes. I didn’t blame her for it. I’ve dragged her through hell already. Why the fuck would she trust me now?

I was still holding her, still keeping her close, but my mind was racing. I can't let her go. Not now. Not ever.

leaned back, staring at her, my eyes tracing every inch of her face. The dim light from the streetlamp outside cast soft shadows over her features, making her look even more delicate—too delicate for this world I’d pulled her into. My hand moved on its own, trailing against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin under my bruised knuckles.

Her eyes searched mine, like she was looking for something—maybe an explanation, maybe a way out. But I didn’t have answers for her. I didn’t even have them for myself. What the hell am I doing?

My thumb brushed over her bottom lip, and I felt the slightest tremble in her breath. I didn’t know if it was fear or something else, but it didn’t matter. I needed her to stay right here with me, needed to feel her close. My chest tightened at the thought of her slipping away, of losing the one thing that still felt... whole.

"I don't deserve you," I muttered under my breath, my voice rough, almost bitter. But I want you anyway.

She didn’t pull away, and that made it worse. She should push me off, tell me to get the hell out of her life before I destroyed it completely. But she didn’t. Instead, she stood there, letting me touch her, letting me hold her like I wasn’t the reason her whole world was spinning out of control.

My fingers traced the curve of her jaw, slow and deliberate. "You’re too good for this," I said, staring into her eyes, letting the weight of my words settle between us. "Too good for me."

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but I shook my head. I couldn’t hear it—not right now. I just wanted to stay in this moment, just for a little longer. Where it was quiet, where the outside world didn’t exist, where she was still mine—at least for now.

pulled YN closer, my hands settling on her waist as I leaned in, my lips grazing her ear. "Can I crash here tonight?" My voice was low, laced with exhaustion, but there was something else there too—something I knew she’d catch.

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with hesitation. I could see the gears turning in her head, the doubt creeping in. She should say no. She should tell me to leave. But she won’t.

Her silence was enough of an answer, and I took it as permission, guiding her toward her room with a quiet urgency. My body ached with every step, bruises screaming under my skin, but I didn’t care. Being here, being with her—it dulled everything else.

As we stepped inside, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, looking around her room. It smelled like her, soft and warm, the kind of comfort I didn’t deserve but took anyway. I turned to her, my hands still on her hips, holding her there like she might slip away at any moment.

"I won’t be in your way," I muttered, but we both knew that was a lie. I was always in her way, in her life, in her head—just like she was in mine.

She bit her lip, and for a second, I thought she might tell me to leave. Instead, she sighed, stepping back just enough to close the door behind us. That was all I needed.

I sat on the edge of her bed, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of everything settle onto my shoulders. "Thanks," I said, meeting her gaze.

But what I really meant was,

You shouldn’t have let me in.

YN stood there for a moment, watching me, her arms crossed like she was holding herself together. I could see the conflict in her eyes, the part of her that wanted to ask me why I was really here, what I wasn’t saying. But she didn’t. She never did. That’s what I liked about her—she let me in without demanding too much in return.

She finally moved, sitting down beside me on the bed, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "Eren... you look like hell," she whispered.

I smirked, leaning back on my hands, the ache in my ribs flaring up. "Yeah? You should see the other guy."

She didn’t laugh, didn’t even smile. Instead, she reached out, brushing a thumb over the cut on my cheek. It stung, but I didn’t flinch. I just watched her, letting her touch me, letting her pretend like she could fix me.

God, she's too soft for this.

"You shouldn’t be here," she murmured, finally pulling her hand away.

I caught her wrist before she could put too much distance between us, my grip gentle but firm. "I had to see you," I said, and for once, it wasn’t a lie.

She looked down, and I could tell she was trying to convince herself that I meant it in the way she wanted to believe. That I needed her, not just a place to hide. But I did need her—just not in the way she thought.

"Just tonight," she said softly, and it sounded more like she was convincing herself than setting a boundary.

I nodded, letting go of her wrist and tugging her down beside me. She sighed but didn’t resist, resting her head against my shoulder. I could feel the way she breathed, slow and steady, like she was trying to calm herself down.

"I don’t want you getting hurt because of me," she whispered after a long silence.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger there for a second too long. "I can handle it, YN."

But the truth was, I couldn’t. Not this time.

Not with Levi breathing down my neck. Not with Ony ready to kill me.

And definitely not with the way I wanted to tear apart everything good in my life—starting with her.

I closed my eyes, letting the weight of it all settle in. Just tonight. That’s what she said.

But we both know it’s never just tonight.

I watched YN leave the room, her footsteps soft against the floor. My head leaned back against the wall, eyes drifting shut for a second. The ache in my ribs pulsed in time with my heartbeat, but it was nothing compared to the weight pressing down on my chest.

When she came back, I cracked an eye open to see her holding a first aid kit, lips pressed together in that worried little pout she always had when she was trying not to ask too many questions. She sat beside me on the bed, fingers gentle as she tugged at my shirt. I let her pull it over my head, not missing the way her breath hitched when she saw the bruises painting my skin in ugly shades of purple and red.

She didn't say anything, just started working—cleaning up the cuts, dabbing at the worst of them with careful hands. I watched her through heavy eyes, my lips twitching into a smirk despite the pain. "You shoulda been a nurse," I muttered.

She shot me a look, one that said don’t start, but she didn’t say anything. Just kept working, her touch softer than it should be for someone like me. I wasn’t used to softness, but I didn’t pull away either.

When she left again, I reached for my phone, the screen lighting up with a text from Connie.

"Where u at? I came to drop off your hellcat and you ain’t home. You out there on shit already?"

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. Always in my business. I typed out a quick reply:

"Relax. I’ll be there soon."

YN came back with a bag of ice, pressing it carefully against my ribs. I sucked in a sharp breath, and she whispered, “Sorry,” like she actually thought it mattered.

I looked at her then, really looked at her. The way she bit her lip, the way her fingers trembled just a little when she touched me. She cared too much—more than I deserved.

"You don’t have to do all this," I said, my voice low.

She gave me a tired smile. "I know."

But she did it anyway.

And that’s what scared me the most.

I glanced around her room, taking it all in. It was so her—soft, warm, full of love. The kind of love I didn’t know what to do with.

Fairy lights draped across the walls, casting a gentle glow over everything. Little trinkets sat on the shelves, each one probably holding some kind of memory, some kind of meaning I’d never understand. Her bed was covered in plush blankets, pillows stacked like she needed to feel safe even in her own space.

This ain't me. I thought, running my fingers over the edge of one of the pillows. Everything about this place was the opposite of me—soft where I was rough, warm where I was cold, full of love when all I knew was destruction. I didn’t belong here.

But I wanted to.

I watched YN fuss over the ice pack, her brows furrowed in concentration, like fixing me up was the most important thing in the world. My chest tightened, but I swallowed it down.

“You always keep your room like this?” I asked, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

She looked up, a little surprised, then shrugged. “Yeah. It helps me feel... I don’t know. At peace, I guess.”

Peace. The word tasted foreign on my tongue.

I leaned back against the pillows, letting the warmth of her space sink into my skin. Maybe just for tonight, I could pretend like I belonged here. Like I wasn’t gonna ruin everything I touched.

I reached out, grabbing her hand as she turned to set the ice pack down. She froze, her eyes meeting mine, wide with surprise. Without thinking, I pulled her close, my heart pounding harder than it had any right to.

Before she could say a word, I leaned in and planted a swift kiss on her lips.

It wasn’t calculated, not something I’d planned—it just happened. Her lips were soft, warm, and for a moment, the chaos in my head silenced. Everything narrowed to just this: her, me, and the way she tasted like something sweet, something pure.

I pulled back just enough to look at her face. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly like she couldn’t decide whether to breathe or say something.

“YN,” I said softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m... sorry if that was too much.”

Sorry? The word felt foreign, but I needed her to stay in this bubble with me for a little longer. I needed her to think that, for once, I wasn’t all sharp edges and destruction.

Her gaze searched mine, like she was trying to figure out what just happened. I didn’t let go of her hand, though. I couldn’t. It was like she was the only thing keeping me anchored.

I pulled her back to me again, my grip firm but careful, like I was afraid she’d slip away if I held on too tight. My lips hovered just over her ear, and I whispered, “I want you, YN... like, for real.”

Her breath hitched, and I could feel the way her body tensed against mine. My fingers traced lazy circles against her lower back, grounding myself in the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt.

I leaned in closer, letting the weight of my words settle between us. I meant it, or at least, I wanted to. There was something about her—something soft, something real—that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I could want more than the usual chaos I thrived in.

She didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, her hands resting lightly on my chest, over the bruises and fading cuts she’d just patched up. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts and unanswered questions.

“Eren…” she finally murmured, pulling back slightly to search my face, her eyes full of something I couldn’t quite place. Doubt? Hope? Hell if I knew.

I cupped her chin gently, forcing her gaze to stay locked with mine. “I mean it,” I said, my voice a little rougher this time. “I don’t just want you around when it’s easy. I want all of it, all of you.”

And maybe that’s selfish,

I thought, but I wasn’t about to let go just yet. Not tonight.

YN stared at me, her eyes flickering with hesitation, and I could practically hear the war in her head. She wants to believe me. She really fucking does. That sweet little hope in her eyes? It was almost pathetic. Almost.

I let my fingers trail up her arm, slow and deliberate, like I was memorizing the feel of her. Her breath hitched just slightly, and I knew I had her.

Poor girl,

I thought, biting back a smirk. She had no clue, did she? No clue that what I said was true and false all at once. I did want her—just not in the way she probably hoped. I didn’t want soft love or whispered promises. I wanted to pull her apart, to break that careful little world she wrapped herself in. To make her mine.

“YN…” I said her name like a prayer, like something sacred, tilting my head slightly as I watched her wrestle with herself. “I can feel it, you know. The way you hold back. Like you’re scared of what happens if you let go.”

She swallowed, and my lips curled at the tiny movement of her throat.

Got you.

I leaned in, so close that my lips barely ghosted over her skin, and whispered, “What are you so afraid of, huh? That I might actually mean it? That I might actually want you?” I let the words hang, watching the way they seeped into her mind.

I felt her body tense. I could almost see her trying to sort through it, trying to convince herself that I was just some fucked-up, damaged boy who needed saving.

But that’s the thing, sweetheart, I thought. I don’t need saving. I need owning. And if you won’t do it, I’ll make damn sure I own you first.

I pulled back just slightly, just enough to look her dead in the eyes, my fingers still resting lightly on her hip. “Tell me to go,” I murmured. “If you don’t want this—me—tell me to fucking leave.”

She parted her lips, and for a second, I thought she might actually say it. But she didn’t.

Instead, she just stood there, looking at me like she was trying to convince herself that I was worth the risk.

Poor, sweet girl.

I smiled, slow and knowing, before pulling her in again. “That’s what I thought.”

Her breath hitched when I closed the space between us again, my fingers pressing just a little firmer against her waist. She was so warm—so soft—so different from everything I knew. From everything I was.

I brushed my nose against hers, keeping her right there, on the edge of something she couldn’t name. Something I could name.

Obsession.

Control.

Mine.

Her fingers twitched against my chest, hesitant but there. I could feel her pulse racing underneath my touch, betraying her, giving her away.

"You trust me, don’t you?" I murmured, dragging my lips along her jaw just enough for her to feel it. My voice was gentle, smooth, but the weight behind it wasn’t. I wasn’t asking. I was telling.

She hesitated.

I leaned back slightly, tilting my head as I studied her face. Her big, searching eyes, that little crease in her forehead, the way her lips parted like she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get it out.

I smirked. "You do," I answered for her. "Even when you shouldn’t."

She swallowed hard, and I could see her trying to fight against whatever this was, whatever I was doing to her. But she wasn’t pulling away.

She was still here.

My grip on her waist tightened just slightly, enough to make her aware of it.

"You don’t have to fight it, YN," I said, softer this time. "I want you. And you want me too, don’t you?"

She blinked up at me, and for a second, I thought she was going to deny it. But she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

I grinned, slow and dark, letting my fingers trace slow, lazy circles against her lower back. "Say it," I urged. "Say you want me."

She shivered, her breath shaky as she tried to compose herself. Tried to act like she wasn’t already sinking into me, into this.

"I…" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

I lifted her chin with two fingers, forcing her to look at me.

"You what, baby?" I leaned in, my lips just inches from hers, my eyes locked onto hers like I could see every thought running through her head.

She was teetering.

Almost there.

And then—

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

The sound broke whatever spell I had her under, and she stepped back, blinking rapidly like she was trying to clear her head.

I clenched my jaw, glancing at the phone lighting up beside us.

Of course.

I ran a hand through my hair, forcing down the irritation bubbling in my chest.

YN rubbed her arms like she was cold, avoiding my gaze. "I should, um… I should check that."

I exhaled slowly, nodding once, watching as she grabbed the phone and glanced at the screen.

Her whole face changed.

Her body stiffened, her lips parting slightly in surprise.

I narrowed my eyes. What the fuck is that look for?

"Who is it?" I asked, my voice calm, measured.

She hesitated.

I reached out, running my fingers along the inside of her wrist, coaxing. "Come on, pretty girl. Don’t start keeping secrets now."

She looked up at me, something unreadable flickering across her face. Then she exhaled sharply and whispered,

"It’s Ony."

She looked at me, clearly uneasy, but I just smiled, leaning back against her bed like I had all the time in the world.

Of course I shouldn’t be here, YN. But who cares?

I wasn’t about to let her guilt-trip me out of this room, out of her.

Her fingers clenched around her phone. "Eren, you don’t understand—"

"I do," I cut her off smoothly, tilting my head. "Ony’s your family, right? You don’t want him seeing me here." I shrugged, completely unbothered. "That’s fine. When he pulls up, meet him outside. I’ll stay in here."

She still looked unsure.

I reached for her again, wrapping my fingers around her wrist, rubbing slow circles against her skin. "Relax, YN," I murmured, my voice dropping to that soft, hypnotic tone I knew got to her. "It’s not a big deal. You talk to him, keep him happy, then come back inside and let me stay here with you tonight."

I could see the war waging in her head. She wanted to argue, to tell me I needed to go. But she also didn’t want to push me.

She didn’t want to lose me.

And that was all I needed.

She exhaled heavily, nodding. "Fine. But stay in here, Eren. I mean it."

I smirked, holding up a hand in fake surrender. "Scout’s honor."

She rolled her eyes but turned away, heading for the door.

As soon as she stepped out, my smile faded.

I let my head drop back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling, thinking.

Ony’s coming.

This could be interesting.

I glanced at her nightstand, at the framed photos sitting there. One of her with her family, one of her at some graduation ceremony, and one… with Ony.

I picked it up, studying it.

They looked happy.

Like family.

Like something real.

I scoffed, setting it back down with a little more force than necessary.

That’s cute.

But what she didn’t realize yet—what Ony didn’t realize yet—was that she wasn’t his responsibility anymore.

She was mine.

Ony jumped out of the G-Wagon, his usual nonchalant vibe intact, but the moment his eyes landed on me, I saw something shift. He scanned my face, taking in the way I held myself, how stiff my body was, the slight hesitation in my greeting. He didn’t say anything about it, though. Didn’t push. Instead, he just gave me a small nod.

"How you been since earlier?" he asked, his voice steady.

I forced a little shrug. "Cool." It was a lie, but what else was I supposed to say?

Ony exhaled through his nose, clearly not buying it, but again, he let it slide. His eyes flickered over to the house before landing back on me. "Unc Reggie’s back around, huh?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Figures."

I hesitated for a second before adding, "It was my mom that called him."

That made him pause. His jaw tensed slightly, but before he could respond, the front door swung open.

"YN!"

My aunt’s sharp voice cut through the air, making my stomach drop. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her face tight with disapproval. Her eyes flicked between me and Ony before they settled on him with an icy glare.

"Get back inside the house," she snapped at me, but she wasn’t done. She stepped out, her attention now fully on Ony as she stormed over.

"You," she spat, pointing a finger at him. "You are not welcome here anymore."

I saw the way Ony’s expression faltered, just for a second. The way that pain flickered across his face before he locked it away behind a mask of indifference. But I knew better. I knew it cut deep.

"Ma, come on," Ony said, keeping his voice level, trying to calm her down. "It ain’t even like that—"

"You think I don’t see what’s happening?" she interrupted, her voice rising. "You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to? Your father’s in jail, Onyankopon. And now look at you! Out here running with them, getting caught up in the same damn mess. You ain’t welcome here. Not anymore."

"Ma—"

"Don’t Ma me!" she snapped.

The air was thick with tension, heavy and suffocating. I felt my chest tighten watching the way Ony tried—really tried—to reason with her, but she wasn’t having it. She had already made up her mind.

The car door opened again, and Connie hopped out of the G-Wagon, stretching like he hadn’t just been sitting in silence watching the whole thing unfold. "Yo," he said casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "He just needs his stuff from his room. We’ll be out after that."

Ony’s mom turned her glare onto Connie, her lips curling in distaste as she looked him up and down.

"Well, go get it for him," she said coldly. "He ain’t welcome here."

Ony stood there, his gaze fixed on Connie as he spoke, his voice calm but with a sense of finality. "You know what to get for me. My bags, my shit’s under my bed."

Connie gave him a small nod and walked past, heading inside with that familiar, relaxed swagger of his, like this whole thing wasn’t as heavy as it felt. But the tension in the air was palpable.

As soon as Connie crossed the threshold, Ony’s mom turned her fury back to him, her voice rising as she got louder and more irate with every word. "I raised you better than this, Onyankopon! Look at what you’ve become. You think I don’t see what you're involved in? Your father’s in jail, and now you're out here getting mixed up in shit over and over. Do you think this is what I want for you? Huh?"

Her words cut through the air like knives, and I could see Ony’s body tense, his fists clenching at his sides, fighting the urge to snap back at her. But he held his ground.

"Ma," he said, his voice low, almost pleading. "You don’t get it. I’m doing what I gotta do to survive."

His mom scoffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Survive? Survive what, Ony? A war you ain’t even supposed to be in? Don’t you think I’ve been through enough? What about me, huh? What about the rest of the family? You think I can just keep cleaning up after you?"

The words hung in the air like poison, and I could see how badly it hurt him, how his walls were starting to crack. He wasn’t the kind of guy to show vulnerability, but in that moment, I could tell how much it tore him apart to see his mom like this—hurting, angry, disappointed.

He stayed silent, his jaw clenched tight, not willing to give her the satisfaction of seeing him break. But his mother wasn’t finished. She took a step closer, her voice venomous.

"You’ve chosen your path, Onyankopon. And I’m done supporting you. Don’t come back here unless you’ve made a damn change. Until then, get your things and get out."

Ony’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but he didn’t say a word. He just watched his mom, the weight of it all pressing down on him like a heavy weight.

I wanted to say something, to step in, but this was their fight, not mine. Still, it was hard to watch the way his mom just kept digging in, like she wanted to rip him apart piece by piece.

I glanced over at the door to see if Connie was done, but I didn’t want to interrupt. The last thing I wanted was to make things worse for Ony. I just hoped he’d get his stuff soon, and maybe—just maybe—he could find some peace, even if just for a moment.

Ony’s jaw tightened as he took another drag from his joint, but before he could exhale, his mom snatched it right out of his mouth, her face twisted with disgust.

"Really?" she spat, holding it between her fingers like it was something filthy. "This is how you treat your life now, huh? You think I’m gonna sit here and watch you throw everything away for some stupid habit?"

Ony stared at her for a moment, his eyes cold, the anger boiling up inside him. He wasn’t going to let her keep pushing him like this. He took a deep breath and leaned in closer, the hurt he’d been carrying suddenly spilling out.

"What's really your problem with me, Ma?" he asked, his voice low but sharp, a dangerous edge cutting through. "You think you know everything, but you don’t know shit. I’m doing what I can to survive, what the fuck else do you want from me? You want me to be some clean-cut dude who doesn’t make mistakes? Who doesn’t get dirty? I’m not him, and you need to accept that."

His words hung in the air between them, thick and heavy. His mom stood frozen for a moment, her hand still holding the joint, her eyes burning with frustration.

"You think I haven’t accepted you?!" she snapped back. "I’ve been putting up with your shit for years, Onyankopon. I’ve tried to help you, tried to keep you from falling, but you won’t listen. You refuse to listen. You think you can keep doing this and that I’m just gonna sit here and pretend like it doesn’t break my heart every goddamn day?!"

She threw the joint to the ground, grinding it under her shoe like she was trying to erase it—and everything it represented—from her life.

Ony let out a long sigh, frustration clearly seeping into his tone. “I don’t need you to fix me, Ma. I’m not some damn project for you to play with."

She shook her head, the tears now mixing with the rage on her face. "This isn’t about fixing you, Ony. It’s about caring for you. It’s about not wanting to see you destroy yourself. But you don’t care. You just want to keep pushing me away."

His face softened for a brief moment, but the stubbornness crept back in, and he pulled away from her, almost as if he couldn’t bear to feel what he was feeling.

“Yeah, I don’t care. Not if it means I’m gonna keep getting treated like I’m a failure,” he muttered, walking away to grab his things, leaving his mom standing there, her anger dissipating for a moment as her disappointment washed over her.

I stood back, not saying a word, letting them work through this tangled mess of emotions. There was nothing I could do to fix it—not now, not ever. But I could feel the weight of it all, heavy in the air.

Connie walked out with two large bags on either shoulder, clearly loaded with Ony’s stuff, and a few stacks of cash in his hand. As he approached, Ony’s mom’s gaze immediately locked onto the money. Her eyes narrowed, her voice rising in anger as she pointed toward it.

“You were hiding your drug money in my house, Ony?” she demanded, her tone sharp and accusing.

Ony didn’t flinch. He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by the same old argument.

“It’s the same damn drug money I used to pay the bills in that bitch, Ma,” he said, his voice flat and uncaring. “Don’t act dumb like you didn’t know what the fuck was going on. I wasn’t hiding shit.”

His words didn’t sit well with her, though. In a blur of motion, she slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the night air. Ony’s head snapped to the side, his jaw tightening in response to the sting. He slowly turned back to face her, eyes burning with restrained anger.

“You really lucky you my ma,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low but laced with venom. The words felt like a warning.

But she wasn’t backing down. Her face was twisted with fury, and without missing a beat, she shot back, “Or else what, Onyankopon? You gonna threaten me now? Huh? You gonna try and act tough with your old mother?”

The words hung in the air, the tension thick between them. Ony's fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t lash out. He just stood there, breathing heavily, staring her down, the pain and frustration in his eyes clear.

He was tired of the same damn cycle. Tired of being treated like he was the problem when he was just trying to get by. Tired of fighting battles that weren’t his to fight anymore.

But he knew. Deep down, he knew that his mother wasn’t just angry about the money, about the drugs, or the lifestyle. It was about everything else. The things he couldn’t fix. The things that were always broken between them.

Ony didn't answer her. He just turned his back, grabbed his bags, and started walking toward the Jeep, his movements heavy, like he was carrying the weight of everything in the world on his shoulders.

Ony stopped in his tracks as Connie handed him the money. He didn’t hesitate; he took the stacks from Connie, then turned to face Yn. His eyes softened for a brief moment, the weight of the situation settling in. He held out the money to her, his hand steady.

“Here,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Text me if you ever need anything. That’s like 15K... it should keep you guys afloat for a while.”

He watched her for a moment, making sure she took the money before his gaze shifted back to his mother, who still stood fuming in the doorway.

With a deep sigh, Ony spoke again, his words carrying a dark, resigned weight. “Don’t worry, Ma. When I’m in jail next to Pa, I’mma tell him what’s really been going on here. You think this shit’s gonna change? Nah, it’s only gonna get worse.”

His voice wasn’t angry now—just cold, almost indifferent. There was no point in pretending anymore, not with her.

He turned to face his mom one last time before he reached for the handle of the Jeep. “Anyway... you keep good, Ma.”

There was nothing else to say. No more anger, no more promises. Just the cold reality of the life he was tied to.

I jumped in the Jeep with Connie, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The air inside the car was thick with tension. My hands were clenched, and I could feel the familiar burn in my chest. My own spot’s quiet, but it’s not the same as being around family. Staying at home was easier—kept me grounded, kept me sane. But now? That shit’s gone.

I leaned my head back against the headrest, staring out the window. The city lights blurred past, but all I could see was my mom’s face, that look of disgust. That slap. It hit harder than any of the fights we had when I was younger.

Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve worked for, for what? I get the cash, I try to handle shit. And what do I get in return? A mother who couldn’t care less. She’ll never get it. She’ll never see how hard I’ve worked, how much I’ve sacrificed for this family. All she sees is what I’m doing wrong.

Connie glanced over at me, trying to gauge my mood. “You good?” he asked, his voice low.

I didn't even answer at first. I wasn’t good, wasn’t close to it. But I wasn’t gonna burden him with that. He’s just along for the ride, and if I let him in too much, he’d start seeing the cracks in me.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling the weight of everything that went down tonight, and then I finally spoke. “I thought… I thought I could make it right, y’know? But it doesn’t matter what I do. Nothing’s gonna change. I don’t have shit left but my pride.”

I shook my head, bitterness creeping into my voice. “I’m tired of fighting with her. Tired of trying to fix things that can’t be fixed.”

Connie didn’t say anything at first. He just kept driving, the silence stretching between us, heavy and thick. He knew better than to try and make me talk when I wasn’t ready.

But I could hear my mom’s voice in my head. “You ain’t welcome here no more.” Those words echoing, cutting deeper than anything she’s ever said before.

We made a few more turns, but all I could think about was how fucking alone I was now. The city had never seemed so big, so cold.

Connie finally pulled up to my spot. It was better than where I grew up, no doubt—cleaner, quieter, more space. But none of that mattered. It was empty. Just walls and furniture, nothing that made it feel like home. I hopped out, snatching my bags from the trunk, the weight of my whole fucking life packed up in them.

Connie jumped out too, stretching, then leaned against the Jeep. “Yo, I can come up, roll something, throw on some 2K?” His voice was casual, but I could tell he was watching me too closely, reading the tension in my shoulders.

I shook my head. “Nah, not tonight.”

He frowned but didn’t push it. He knew me well enough to know when I wanted space. I could see him debating whether to say something else, but in the end, he just nodded. “Aight, man. But hit me up if you change your mind.”

I gave him a chin nod, then turned for the stairs, my bags weighing heavier with each step.

Once inside, I dropped everything in the middle of the living room and stood there for a second, staring at the silence. No yelling, no tension in the air, no reminders of everything I was supposed to be doing for people who ain’t even want me around anymore. Just me. Alone.

I ran a hand down my face, exhaling hard. Times like this, I wish I wasn’t beefing with Eren. He’d get this shit…

He was the only one who knew what it was like to have family turn on you in ways you never expected. To give everything, and still be treated like you weren’t enough.

I let out a bitter chuckle. Funny how life works, huh?

Shaking my head, I went to grab a blunt from the stash in my drawer. If nothing else, at least the high would keep my mind quiet for a while.

I unzipped my bag and started pulling shit out, stacking clothes in messy piles. Connie, nosy as ever, had taken the time to disassemble my SR-15 from where I had it tucked next to my closet. Of course he did. I picked up the pieces, running my fingers over the metal, contemplating mounting it back up just for fun. But I wasn’t in the mood. My head was already crowded enough.

Tossing the rifle parts back into the bag, I grabbed my phone, plugged it in, and let the screen light up. The other phone was already buzzing with notifications. I tapped in, scrolling through texts.

Levi: Run next week. You, Reiner, Jean. You’re off duty till then. Don’t do nothing stupid.

I huffed out a laugh. Like I gave a fuck.

“Off duty” didn’t mean shit. Not when my own house didn’t even feel like mine anymore. Not when the only people I ever called family wanted nothing to do with me.

I locked my phone and leaned back on the couch, rubbing a hand over my face. The weight of everything settled in my chest, but I forced myself to push it down.

Ain’t no use sitting here feeling sorry for myself. I still had moves to make

exhaled sharply, pushing myself up off the couch. Ain’t no point sitting around. I had shit to bag—coke don’t sell itself, and neither do pills.

I moved to the kitchen, grabbing the duffel I kept stashed under the sink. Unzipped it. Scales, baggies, gloves—all there, just like I left it. I reached into the cabinet, pulling out the first brick, peeling back the packaging. The scent hit me instantly—sharp, chemical, familiar.

Same shit, different day.

I set up at the counter, moving on autopilot. Weigh, cut, bag. Weigh, cut, bag. The only sound in my apartment was the plastic crinkling and the low hum of the fridge. My hands worked fast—muscle memory, no thought needed.

Connie was probably gonna blow my phone up later, asking what I was on. He knew me well enough to tell when I was in my head too much. But I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Didn’t need to talk. Didn’t need to think. Just needed to move weight and make sure my money was right.

That was the only thing I could count on.

stopped mid-motion, the small bag of coke still in my hand. My phone screen lit up again.

Connie: Went to check Eren. He ain’t at his spot.

My grip tightened around the baggie. Fuck.

I knew something was off with YN. She was moving weird—too quiet, too tense. And now Eren’s ghosting? Nah. That ain’t a coincidence.

I dropped the bag, wiped my hands on my jeans, and grabbed my other phone.

Me: Check his location. He got his phone on him?

A few seconds passed. Then, another message.

Jean: Man’s off the grid. Last ping was hours ago.

My jaw clenched. If Eren was missing, and YN was acting strange, I already had a bad feeling about where he might be.

I grabbed my hoodie and my gun. No way in hell was I aint letting him get comfortable around my family.

Connie: Easy, Ony. You off duty. You forgot what Levi did earlier? You ain’t in no position to be outside. Relax, I’ll take care of it and see where he’s at.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand down my face. Connie had a point. My body still ached from Levi’s little “lesson,” and I wasn’t trying to get caught slipping again.

But Eren? he was unpredictable, and I wasn’t about to let him move unchecked around my cousin.

Me: Handle that, bro. Let me know where he at.

I tossed my phone onto the counter, letting it slide next to the half-packed duffel of product. My fingers tapped against my knee as I sat back, exhaling through my nose. The whole night had been fucked from the moment Levi started acting up, but this? This was sitting wrong in my chest.

Eren was reckless, selfish, and manipulative as fuck. I knew that firsthand. He had this way of twisting shit, making people believe his words were gospel even when they were laced with poison. And YN? Man, she wasn’t built for this. She thought she was, but she wasn’t. I knew her since we were kids—she was sharp, but her heart was too good, too soft for the kind of game Eren played.

I leaned forward, pressing my elbows to my knees, staring at my phone like it held the answers. I should’ve pressed her more. I saw it in her face earlier. Something was off. She was too stiff, too quiet.

My jaw clenched.

If she was with Eren right now—if he had his hands on her, spitting whatever manipulative bullshit he thought up—she was in trouble, whether she realized it or not.

The phone screen lit up. Connie.

Connie: Still checking. Nobody’s seen him at his usual spots. U want me to pull up on her?

I hesitated, dragging a hand down my face. I wanted to say yeah, but I also knew YN. If I sent someone after her, especially Connie, she’d dig her heels in. She didn’t like feeling controlled, even if it was for her own good.

Me: Nah, hold off for now. Just find him.

I pushed up from the couch, pacing. My ribs ached from earlier, but the irritation buzzing under my skin overpowered the pain. This nigga Eren is really testing me.

If he was with YN right now, that meant one thing—he had no plans of letting her go.

#aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #eren yeager #eren aot #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren smut #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #eren fluff #eren jeager smut #eren x reader #attack on titan eren #aot x you #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #sherewrytes

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winterhue · 3 months ago

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DO YOU LIKE IT?

Pairing: Mark x fem!Reader (m/f)

Genre: smau ! 18+ , humor, fluff, smut, romance, campus life

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ch 01: so are we fucking?

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previous | masterlist | next

AN: so I changed Mark's (artist) twitter username from @ brokenmelody to @r_e_m__ cause that's supposed to be his stage name. Also, just to clarify, the part where winter mentions johnny thirsting over yn, she means yn's real life persona and not her online persona. I'll upload the next chapter either in an hour or tomorrow. Feel free to share your thoughts and suggestions. Much love <3

SYNOPSIS: YN is a quiet, shy photography major respected for her talent and sweet personality, while Mark is the campus heartthrob known for his rich, extravagant lifestyle and irresistible charm. But they both hide their true selves—each living a double life.

What happens when YN discovers that her favourite indie song artist is actually Mark Lee? And how will Mark react when he learns that YN is the famous mystery girl popular for her erotic pictures on the web and on the pages of the popular men's magazine.

taglist: @ant-onie @14juno @slayhaechan

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#kpop smau #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct smau #nct dream #nct 127 #nct smut #nct mark #nct x reader #nct wayv #nct wish #nct fanfiction #nct masterlist

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anantaru · 2 years ago

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THREE SECONDS

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — as your relationship was ready to take the next step, itto wanted you to meet his granny who had raised him for the majority of his life and was beyond thrilled to show you where he grew up in as a child, or especially how cozy his old bedroom seemed to be.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — this fic stems from a little thirst i wrote a while ago and since i adored that idea so so much i just had to make a whole one shot for it, didn’t expect it to get so long though, still, enjoy! <3

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 5.9k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, messy, whiny itto but also rough itto, riding, fingering, he's insatiable, the horny took him hostage, slight size difference (i mean he's huge), semi! public + his granny is next door preparing dinner.

arataki itto, the one, the only— a man, who could never be easily defeated in the eyes upon his very self.

by the same token, he, in no circumstances regarded anything as a real believed problem which he would have to face in his life sooner or later on, to a higher notice, was he someone who'd pick out the clear positive in most heeded aspects and proceed to give his furthermost, unswerving best.

for you, he was everything and anything, all at once. The bordering, ingrained proximity between you both could have been esteemed like a mind altering drug— neither of you was marginally capable to keep a distance between each other, not when your relationship carried on to bring forth the best of your abilities.

arataki itto— the love of your life, your soulmate, a man who, to the actual core, triumphantly won your heart and sung a promise to protect it from danger of any kind.

be that as it may, tonight, your entire relationship had all gotten a different meaning in his life because of an undisclosed exponent, itto came into hazardous contact with his first real enemy in a long time— the name of the weighty villain was well known, ponderously soliloquized upon the brimming nations of teyvat, the revolting mischief;

anxiety.

now, to remain logical and give the full picture— today was the prized day where you were going to lastly make acquaintance with the person who had raised him for the larger number of his being— his granny, who graciously took him in as a little oni and fondly watched after him with peerless faith and love in this world.

and despite that, unbeknownst to itto, you were, without no holds barred, feeling the same level of distress. It wasn't unnatural to sought after such a devoted step in a relationship— on the flip side can it become undoubtedly frightening and alarming, singularly when it was a striking indicator to remark just how dead serious you both conceived your relationship and its fancied continuance.

when the evening befell the nation of inazuma in its brilliant illustrious artistry, you had met up with your timid boyfriend to then, fidgety stride to his grannies small sized house which had been a partially shade far outside of inazuma city.

your zooming thoughts— like cannon balls, were in abysmal need of required relaxation, in reality, you truly had no reason to be this frightened because even though you had never met her prior to this day, you heard nothing but subliming wonderful deeds about the woman in question, her accepting care and understandings, the way she did not see any differences in humans and oni— viewing them as equal.

"hey no sleeping!" itto suddenly barks, "wait wait are you feeling sick? we can turn around and sit for a while." oh, he sounds nervous but you insist you're fine, because truthfully, you had just reached your destination and you won't be defeated by something as insignificant as nervousness— it's alright, yet you wonder if your hands could please stop sweating so much? ignore it ignore it, there's no way back now.

in front of the door made of otogi wood, your boyfriend lessened his handsome face to meet you, holding your pretty eyes with his diamond shaped pupils. You easily allow yourself permission to cross the fleeting words in your thoughts to run over his question, what he had asked was indeed chucklesome, in a way that you weren't for certain if the spelled out sentence was solely pointed towards your person or if he was in reality questioning himself. "yes i'm alright— are you though?"

the jocular idea of turning around did not cross your mind, not when you came this far and speaking forthcomingly, the pronounced concern on itto's scrunched expression was much larger and dignified than your own, yet despite that, said tangible worry wasn't one bathed in hesitancy or doubts, more— in an enthusiastic procedure that you were, at last, meeting such an important person in his life.

"of- of course i am!" he blabbers, "do i not look okay?!" yeah.. he must be thoroughly relaxed, right? that must be the obvious case, though he was actively waving his hand in the air— yet in front of his cheeks, he made sure he's covering himself, so you wouldn't get a singular chance to catch him blush in a full scarlet pitch, "why— why the hell shouldn't i be?"

"you seem nervous." you bluntly stated but teased, firmly deepening the eye contact and archons, how flustered itto could become when you won't tear your enthralling eyes off him, "— or scared." you carry on to unfitly taunt your lover, sneakily drawing down a firm grin but leaving your brows quirked up light heartedly, "whenever you're experiencing one of those two emotions, your voice gets a little higher, you know?"

"wha-" he interjects, "it doesn't!" for a crisp second, itto came to terms with his graspable frame of mind— because why should he hide his agitation from you? and then the straightforward tension that had been viciously eating him up from the inside out ceased to exist, "not true!" now, come now, "not me!" it had blurred itself out when he got ruminated with a sudden contagious laugh from you while caressing his arm to soothe his worries once more.

"yeah, i can see that." these are some mean turn of events to play with your boyfriends sensitive feelings like that, he figured, so he let his strong hands shelter your soft cheeks in a heart beat, "i'm never scared of anything." he's unnerved, back to his confident self.

"never ever ever, in a million ever never years!"

"you're crazy." you laugh and offer him a signature smile, freely blustering out a sheltered breath as you humanely lean into his left palm— itto flashes you his pearly white teeth and his thumb was lightly tapping on your plump bottom lip before placing a sensual kiss on top.

curiously enough, he never missed the chance to do that, to flip his thumb over your lips with a large smile, so he could lead you through what he was originally planning to do— to smooth you.

"lets get moving m'lady." he refrains, behaving a split amount differently, in all respects energized, "we're already in front of the door."

"you know what i meant!" he pipes up in an immediate rebuttal while angrily stomping his feet on the ground, banteringly pinching your hip, "ouch!" you loudly squeak out in surprise but itto was quicker— because he directly then knocked on the wooden door so you couldn't get back at him without letting his granny see it too.

his coruscating eyes, they expectantly bunch up while actively awaiting for his granny to open the large door to his childhood home, the place, were no matter what past memories, whether good or bad, had been crafted.

"dear, is that you itto?" you paid attention to an older ladies puny asserting voice upon a small space between door and frame, revealed was a short and on the face of it, feeble woman, appearing from behind. "granny! oh granny!" itto loudly cheers and muses, "you sure took your time granny!" this was an all in all cherished attribute you treasured about itto's entire personality— while surely, it by no means has been spread amongst the crowds that he was known for his loud and sparkling persona, but observing his innocent delight when encountered with his parental figure, openly fostered a total gladden in you— it's because you love him, just how he was.

in redirected regard of your own self, you didn't dare to move a single inch— as if frozen to the cold ground, though be that as it may, you could proceed with your reasoning and refer to it as the 'not well regarded accessory' to your continuous pestering tenseness that wickedly sauntered through head to toe.

but on a positive note, it was beneficial enough for itto to be this tall and large in comparison to your own frame, meaning you were capable to easily slip behind his back in hiding.

"this is who i've been telling you about." damn it, a genuine smile plucked the outer region of his lips as he largely stepped aside to reveal you like a gift from the heavens, his hands embarrassingly pointing towards you.

before you can say anything at all, itto had gladly taken over the role of the awkward introduction process himself and introduced you to his lovely granny.

again, thanks to the electro archon for your perfect boyfriend.

"it is such a deep pleasure of meeting you, dear." whatever it may be now, the woman conveyed an immediate tranquillizing quell which had brightly subdued your tensed muscles. "the pleasure really is all mine, miss!" extending your hand to her, she slowly lunged forward to shake it as you introduced yourself again.

now, in retrospect, this entire time, you had been tremendously nervous— highly strung, repeatedly shifting in your shuddering stance from left foot to right foot, right foot to left foot, though now, as you walked into her small home— with itto being a gentleman and closing the door shut behind you both, you at present had felt like you were truly welcomed in her abode.

(major mental sticker for the next time: don't let the useless negativity consume your goddamn mind, okay?)

well, back to business.

throughout the time, itto's sizable hand was, no matter what, situated solidly on the region above your behind, lovingly stationed on your lower back while he guided you to the homely warm and restful living room.

when you listlessly skimmed through the many decorations of the place, you discovered a framed picture of itto as a child next to his granny, it wasn't difficult to see their emotions through the stilled memory, both were marvelously happy and utterly fulfilled— grateful, with a squishy onikabuto plushie being sponged and pressed into itto's chest.

how long have you been staring at the frame? you can't recall, but fortunately to you, you got drawn back to the present reality when your boyfriend pinched your arm. His grandma— such a warm hearted lady, had affectionately assembled two beverages meant for you as she further beckoned you two to take a seat on the mellow couch.

"this is quite embarrassing." she weirdly was in a panicked stance about something rather awful, even going as far as to idly enclose her slender arms around herself, shaking, "what is it granny? are you sick?"

itto pucks himself into the seat with concern, yet striving to stand up right again and aid her in whatever was the critical problem at hand, "oh no! dear." she worrisomely shakes her head and her cheeks irradiated a scarlet tint, "but the dinner isn't ready yet!"

"that's all?!" itto exhales enormously from his chest— to a greater extent, one could say he was about to pass out from the thought of having something serious happen without him being in on it. Despite your rocky state of emotions from beforehand, you were now hopeful and viewed this polished opportunity as your sweet time to shine.

"can i be of help?" you bring forth self assured confidence in your tone color, "i might not be as skilled as you but i can try!" sliding the glass back on the coffee table, you were ready to get up and aid in the kitchen— it was not a big deal and you were always happy to help, especially when it was someone who was regarded as the closest family member to your boyfriend.

having said that, the wishing reply you had longed for, wasn't actually what happened, "there's no need dear." she sweetly giggled around her words, being truly flustered to the core by your sweet attempt to help her out, pretty much warming up with you already— you were lovely in her eyes, "and i'm certain itto desperately wants to show you around, isn't that right?"

you, of course, won't argue with that, "so damn right!" itto was full of happiness, and now, he's pushing himself up from his seat, additionally inviting you over to grab onto his hand so he could lead you around everything, "there's much to show after all!" with your hands quietly placed on your thighs, you feel nothing but giddy and take his palm, but rationally, you'd rather spend time with her so you could get to know her better.

that certainly was the best idea, but inside of you, the sultry skittish feeling of watching itto like that— so happy and excited, was priceless in your very eyes, maybe ... you could sneak in a few fleeting kisses before having to come back, hmmm, this does sound quite bewitching now, doesn't it?

on the way out of the living room, you were met once again with objects from his past, all pridefully shown and displayed around the tiny corridor he was leading you in. Next, on the very left, you found yourself in front of a wooden door that wasn't like any other, it was, quite frankly, messed up with what seemed to be symbols clumsily drawn on with a bunch of pencils— very itto typical, you humbly added.

"there we go." he's so excited, happy, euphoric— are there any other ways to possibly describe his emotions right now because in itto's perspective none of them were doing it justice, "the room of a real oni!"

"aww!" you accept the entry and let him close the door, leaving you both sheltered in place. his room was bigger than you had actually expected; a small, cleaned bed lovingly decorated with two larger plushies on top— one specifically caught your eyes, it was the same one that you saw earlier on the picture with his grandma, the onikabuto exemplar, while the other was funnily resembling a ruin guard of some sorts?

without much to say, both were worn off, he must've played with them in his childhood days.

"what do you think?" he quirks a brow, "to be honest, i was a little worried it wouldn't do me justice." you roll your eyes in the back of your head, what a guy.

at the prospect of being quite the stunner at taunting or playing with your boyfriend, you breathe out euphorically before speaking again, "the bed is so tiny, how little you were itto!"

"tiny?! it's not tiny!" he stomps forward, "this isn't tiny! or is it?"

was this the beginning of a heated debate? not really, but maybe a little. to elaborate himself further without requiring words, itto was swift and eager to carelessly wind away the dear plushies to awkwardly drop his wholeness onto the frail bed and archons— let it be known that the old woman outside had trouble hearing because those damned squeaking sounds were violent, dropping off the walls with an intensity you haven't heard before.

was itto about to break the bed? no no, you suppose. hopefully not.

"looky looky." he thoughtlessly leans back into the silken cushions but props himself up with his elbows so his pretty view on you would turn out even prettier, "it's large, just like me." — how can this man be for real sometimes, you wonder, snorting out a silly laugh on how impossibly comical he looked right now, with the majority of his legs hanging out of the bed frame.

"it sure does." you feign your engaging sentencing, silently getting close and walking towards him to sit, somewhere— which, uh, wasn't possible because he took the entire space.

literally, how could he not?

so, instead, you had, emphasizing heavily on the 'had', resulted to therefore straddling his hips with your thighs on each side of him. You're leaning forward and to that— your dress instantly responded with unknowingly pining up and revealing more of your smooth legs. Due to this unseen course of events, itto thumbed down entirely, now laying flat with you mounting on top.

the shallow heave that unbuttons from his throat when you declined your head to sweetly plant a semi innocent kiss on his lips, it was overflowing with tension, beyond wishing, so he leaned in— one kiss, two, one more? perhaps a couple.

in a profound refrain, you found yourself relaxed, making out with itto, still largely gentle and shy— if only he wouldn't have began to skim over your body with his hands, up and down in circles, his palms were seizing the movements of you, heatedly glissading over your exposed skin until looming them further back to greedily grab a fistful of your flesh and knead your ass to drag you close.

on purpose or not? but your cunt was now directly brushing on top of his member.

"mmh." you inaudibly whimper into his mouth as you coincidentally rub down on his groin, "ah— i'm sorry." he speaks and unexpectedly drags your pussy over his hidden cock. "fuck-" normally, you're so so careful— fuck, you wouldn't, right? do it on purpose, never.

amusing, you, as a matter of action, did not miss how tensed up itto was, how overwhelmed with the budding pressure in his pants.

how ... he was in his old bedroom, giving his almost painfully growing erection the thing it desired, from you, his cute darling. His breathing had been erratic while his digits further altered your flesh to keep you stilled but surely pressed right on top of his swelling cock.

rationality, here we go, "w-wwwait." his cheeks had a sudden burn with an equal amount of both a higher consciousness of euphoric bliss and clear embarrassment, itto figures that— archons, he might already be done for, the 'little' problem in his pants, how was he supposed to get rid of it before dinner?

"sorry." you cheekily coo and bit your lip back at him, "but you're comfy." cozily wrapping your arms around his neck, maybe another kiss will do it, so you sloppily go down and pull away with a sharp tug on his lower lip. You smile, although sheepish, "we should get up." and whisper the evident.

but unmistakably, if you would've acted out on what you were manifesting, or that you were more than certain you had wholly slicked up your thin panties by now— sensing them stick on your core, you would've blindingly leaned in to whatever you were attempting to do this second.

"wait." oh? this tone was different and you liked it— remembering the cause of it too. Much deeper was the timbre and not in his usual airless color, because itto was dead serious in his shaking utterance, a single word demonstrated a devilish command, "i'm a little—" you follow his eyes with your own and watch the mess in between your sticked together bodies— your dress had been draped up even more and was now pressed up, resting right above the beginning of your ass while itto's pants were extremely tight.

he embarrassingly looks up at you with hesitancy, "oh you know- i think i need a second." and he forcefully exhales his words from his tight chest, "but you are- fantastic." and prolongs his trembling heave right after, "and warm." while he closes his eyes, only a short amount because he had to catch your hips and stop them when you tried to move.

"what are you?!" he groans so loud, too loud— shameless, as you were quick to shush his noisy tongue with your hand clutched around his needy mouth, "shhh, don't talk." you coo, "don't say anything." and he listens carefully, with wide opened eyes, nervously gulping down the assembled saliva, "let me help you out, okay baby?"

finally, fucking finally, he thought, "c-careful." itto mumbles into your hand as you used your other to clumsily open up his pants— pulling down his, with pre cum drowned, boxers, at last freeing his erect cock that was plopping out of the garments.

it's heavy, shading red and the deep blue'ish broad veins on the underside of his girth left nothing left for imagination— your mouth practically watered at the filthy, sinful sight, but it's so tasteful and you wanted to please him right away, maybe suck him off and let him fuck your face, but now— not now, his grandma was literally in the next room and preparing dinner for you, right, almost forgotten!

lets just get this quickly over with and help your handsome boyfriend with his not so little problem— later on there was still additional time, you can always fuck at home, real messy and loud— leaving yourself to him so he was able to pump his seed into you and let it ooze out again.

"ah- baby." his voice sounded impatient and a bit whiny, "it hurts." he grits his teeth and his cheeks burn up, he lifts his hips and softly grinds into you while keeping you down, his face was incredibly red and even the tip of his ears had now visualized the exact same color. There's no way he didn't spend time to think about it too— about the shared fantasy, about pistoling his cock deep into your spongy cunt, it makes him question himself if he can actually pull it off, in this small room with the bed squeaking at every move.

the delirious flutter was risky, but worth it?

"okay, you know what?" he spills out, chasing more relief, "just the tip." he whines, "only the tip, please!" you curiously readjust yourself to rut your cunt on him— on the brink of turning brainless yourself. "you know we wouldn't stop." but the mental image of his tip splitting you roughly had you close your legs around his body, shoving your pussy on his bare cock again.

"but it hurts-" and you shake your head, just wanting to scream that it hurts you too, "i know baby but we can't."

one hundred percent a bad idea— that's what it was in an outer perspective, but how could you ignore his mushroom tip leaving itself get messed up by your arousal— how now, he nudged himself into the flimsy material of your panties to rub his length within your folds, spreading them apart, loving your wet cunt, "five seconds." you can barely hear him say it, "just five seconds." archons, where were the infamous rational thinking skills when you were in dire need of them?

fuck this, rightfully so, "three." now, you start to bargain for the tasteful prize, "four." and itto was determinedly stammering right back at you while his mouth was still covered by your hand. You both cannot believe each other, truly, how desperately needy you were, at this point barely caring anymore when he slowly bumped his drenched cock into your pussy— your underwear by now fully slipped to the side.

"three seconds!" — "oh man .. fine."

you drop your weight before he could finish his words, catching him so off guard was rare in it's own glorious state and you‘re taking his tip further, making the man underneath you deeply groan into your hand. "shut up itto!" you laugh and embarrassingly snort a little, "i'm sorry!" this whole lively situation had a comical sense to it because when else are you fucking your boyfriend in his old bedroom— in a bed that was way too small for any of you, but maybe that's the fun part of being this close together, fusing your skins as one.

you go silent, overwhelmed and shaking, to counter attack your natural body reactions you forcefully bite down on your bottom lip to withstand the upcoming moans, "fuck, fuck!" for comfort, you lean into him as his tip naturally slips in and out of your warm pussy, in and out, in and out, catching a glimpse of his already hooded eyes. "only the tip." you jokingly repeat, "mhm the tip." he moans back into your hand while you felt him drool on you— because there you were flaunting your tits at him, rigidly pressing them into his chest with your pointy nipples finding friction.

itto shuts his eyes on the sprouting frustration closing around his belly, "mhm, i can't believe this." he almost laughs, as if to ease you both down in his own silly ways, "me neither." he further molds his hands over your hips to hold you in a precise way. Truthfully, your trembling thighs were burning and sore, firmly splattered with arousal and exposed to him.

the position you were currently in wasn't kind to you, if anything it was becoming harder to remain focused so you wouldn't end up suckling in more inches without realizing.

you carefully move away your hand and give him enough space to breathe more sizable and damn— the sight in front of you was a fucking longed one, downright unreal, it wasn't able to be somewhat framed or painted into words.

itto whatsoever, his face had spiraled into complete redness, granted, he was trying his utmost finest to be good and not greedy, though the punishing demonstrated fantasy of bulging his cock into your sensitivity was always there— his shaking hands clearly giving it away.

"ah- this is awesome!" itto clears his throat and needfully runs his knuckles over your skin, reaching your behind— two of his fingers ran down to your folds to spread them and leave him with more room to stay inside, "yeah.. this is better." he heaves and you whine because it really does feel better that way— you've been plenty wet by now and if you weren't this patient, you surely would've fucked him into oblivion by now.

you hide your pleased face in his neck, "i can't believe we're doing this." and admit, arching your back a little (for good measure) before slowing one of your hands over his damp forehead where a couple of his hair strands were sticking onto, due to the excessive amount of sweat, "i think I'm dreaming!" though it's stupefying, itto gladly relishes in the smug satisfaction, claiming you one inch further, a bulged type of sweet and honeyed pride was delivered when he let you do it— slurp up one more inch, ambling his hips differently for a finer angle.

you kiss itto's lips to soothe his gravelly groans, in addition to your own squeaky huffed out cries— he's so big and heavy that when you move just a little, it's as if he's strapping you off every single inch of control in your body, as if he's, on purpose, targeting the plushy splotches in your walls.

you grab onto another inch as he passionately groans into your mouth— more please more, bracing yourself, letting his tongue run free into yours, he continues it, pitching his hips further and spreads his thighs to rub you into him while his eyes flicker with lust and so do yours.

you just cannot think straight anymore, it's not possible nor required, you are so fucking fucked right now, both deliriously good and blazingly bad.

itto thinks it still isn't enough, his big cock was tingling in your walls and it should be criminal on how fucking fine your closed insides were, ravenously bordering on him and gripping him— it doesn't even compare to other instances in his life because you both couldn't keep your hands to yourself and wanted to straight up— lose your minds and bodies.

a hiss spills from his throat and it appears like your legs are about to give up on you— your tits too, bounce in tune to your actions and surge eminent bliss into your veins. You find yourself entranced when he crowds you and your toes curl at another easy shove forward.

the painstakingly grab on your hips was to leave bruises, his knuckles turning white and his dick shimmers with your arousal that you sink down further.

you adjust and squeeze around him, bending over when breaking off the kiss, your wet lips twitching in a shameless grin as itto chuckled right under you. The lower side was rammed with your transparent liquids puffing out your pussy— itto's eyes were blown wide and he makes sure to always remember to stretch your ass while you look so adorable above him, creaming on his cock that was now completely clashed into you.

hold on.

what happened to the three stated seconds? or just the tip?

three or none, oh no— not this, please no, archons above please send us mercy because how much fucking time has passed since you started this succulent and mouthwatering gamble?

"fuck— just like that." itto mouths without a single care behind those eyes, "you're the prettiest baby, you know that?" he lifts himself into you and turns the bed into nothing more than a squeaky noisy problem. It could've turned out real embarrassing if not one of you had turned on your hazy braincells.

"itto wait!" you foolishly whine, "shit, too loud!" he bottoms out and smacks his balls into you, remembering the obscene situation as the bed loudly creaked. "shit, shit shit." your mouth clashes onto his with saliva bubbling out of the outer parts of your lips. Yet you don't stop, instead you grind your pretty cunt on him and smear his filth over your soft walls.

"do you think?" you're concerned for the obvious, stilling yourself, "no no, don't worry baby." itto speaks up, "are you sure? we were very loud right now." he captures your body in between his arms to twitch inside your core, you on the other hnd never adjusted to his large dick— you just couldn't stop pulsing on his length, it's swilled with your liquids. "i got you, i'm sure she didn't hear anything."

while you do want to place your greatest trust into him, you weren't stupid, but amidst the sinfulness of it all, you nod your head at him. "we need to finish this quickly." whispering from above, your warm breath fans over his skin.

itto doesn't answer, there was no need for it, not now at least. He reaches up to lift your chin to lead you towards his lips and you cry into the sloppy kiss while his other hand dampened down on your folds, roughly stimulating you with his knuckles. "i- fuck, i-got-you." he finally says in between groans and urges you to continue, "i'll make you cum on me." his words came out in a stitched together grunt.

his mind— it was gone and clouded and another moan leaves him right after at the galvanizing sight of you. Itto braces himself and leads you to heaven, it's overbearing and frustrating, but the new punctuated jolts were closing down on your sensitive cores, they were tempting and pressing on your beating thuds.

all you could think of was for him to please please go faster, but it wasn't possible, not anymore. okay, well, it was but, you would equally be busted and you were sure the embarrassment of being caught by his fucking grandma during the act alone would give you terrible nightmares for years on end.

his knuckles dig into your shining folds and rub you fiercely while taking you with his cock. By how rough itto was fucking you now you had to close your hand around his mouth again so he could freely grunt and moan— vocalize his pleasure to you so you can latch onto him finer, constrict on his shaft and milk him dry until he's wet of a white ring of arousal, the clear determination to finally cum was genuinely all you both could think of.

you cry yourself into his shoulder when he pulls you to him, fisting his palms into your draped up dress to practically rush you back and forward— using you as a fucktoy to drench his cock in. His hips are stuttering and you knew he was close— because in truth, you were too, the continuous intrusion of his sensual tip on your pleased insides felt so fucking fine you thought you were actually going to tear up from it.

it's when it began to burn as he continuously smacked his hips into you, both tightly squished into each others embrace and melting into your bodies. You were drooling on your entire chin and then it happened, bringing you back to the overstimulation which was twice as powerful, twice as deep— pulling out your climax from your strangled rooted core as you violently clenched on his heavy cock, your orgasm thundering over you.

"too much, too much!" you whisper cry on him and itto plants one of his hands on the back of your head to squish you close as he climaxed too, sealing his lips as you pressed your hand into him. "I'm so close— so close so close." his hips were still going but slower, his calloused palm holding you down, guiding you where he required you to release his seed, paint your walls with silken white and calm your inflamed skin.

"fuck!" he moans and his eyes roll back, "inside— im inside you." itto feels empty but fulfilled, the compressed position was in any other occasion insanely unfitting and uncomfortable, but for you there wasn't a better one. His breathing was hot and the entire room smelled of sex and filth, the spilling ropes of cum were seeping right out of you.

the both of you were utterly panting and damn, itto came a lot, cummed as deep as he could and his grunts were still there— low and under the shadowy rasps, leaving it to you to finish him and he relishes in it, entirely, when being milked by a warm cunt such as yours, a claimed one, by him alone.

it's silent before your thoughts come back swirling, heated but never forgotten, you prop yourself with your arms and smile at him, but then it hit you.

"no no." you panic and your eyes glue down on your not so innocent lower region, "we made a mess." he smirks back at you, all puffed out and blowing. "how do we cover that?!"

you lift your hips and are now presented with the post nut problem, vision still glassed up and shaded by how good you were being fucked just moments ago. "wait let me-" itto helps you lay down while he sits up on the bed, his cock limply coated in arousal, "do you need- uh, wait!"

he swiftly searches around the room and finds a towel, hastily handing it to you, "thanks." you shyly mumble, still sore, "how do i look?" you ask him jokingly while fixing your make-up simultaneously to rubbing off the crumbling perspiration on your body.

"like you just had the best orgasm in the world." he sings, putting up his pants while helping you as much as he could. "you're one to talk." you tease, breathless and still hot, pulling down your dress as itto reaches out his arm to you, aiding you to stand up.

a hand falls heavy on his palm and you curse yourself for not figuring out sooner that you were thoroughly sore and done— swelling and used, especially your muscles were burning, searingly aching, "oh— easy now." itto could do this all day, watch you fix yourself after he fucked your brains out— minus the doing it in his old bedroom. His inflated ego breaks records, "are you okay?" but the concern in his voice was sweet, "y-yes."

"lets eat dinner then!" you almost forgot about that.

he rubs his belly and you nod your head in agreement, spouting out a wheezy laugh while you began to fix his hair, "— and hope your grandma didn't hear a thing." and end his sentencing at last.

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little-hermit-crab56 · 1 year ago

Text

One thing I see a lot in headcanons and fics in the Ninjago fandom, is the idea that the Ninjago public knows almost as much about the ninja as we do.

Which, to me, has never really made sense. Yes, they all probably have online presences, yes they've all probably done an interview or two to earn some cash, yes they have adoring fans who know everything they possibly could about them.

But also the ninja aren't celebrities. Not normal celebrities at least. If the public really knew as much about them as so many in the fandom assume they did, that also means all their enemies know their weaknesses.

I imagine season 6 was their first taste of real publicity, and they most likely made a lot of mistakes by revealing things they probably shouldn't've, i.e. Kai chirping that they're in the hospital and literally everything showing up.

After that they probably got a lot smarter, and knew there were some things it's safer to keep from the public.

I wouldn't be surprised if the majority of the public were unaware that Wu, Lloyd, and Garmadon were related to the First Spinjitzu Master himself.

On top of that, there is no way Lloyd Garmadon would ever tell anyone other than his close confidants about his Oni/Dragon heritage. Aside from him straight up being ashamed of it, it's also something that was kept a secret from HIM, and that's probably for a good reason too. Imagine if there were people who knew how to use him similar to how Harumi did, or knew weaknesses even he was unaware of.

Maybe the reason it hasn't really been a thing since the Oni Trilogy is because it's such a well guarded secret that no one has been able to use it against him.

Also, when Cole accidentally drank the truth tea, they asked about Lloyd's power. And while it does make sense that the public doesn't know anything about his power given that even the Ninja don't, it also shows that they hardly tell the public anything about themselves.

What I assume they DO tell the public, are recounts of their adventures, their battles, little bits about being a Ninja. Just enough to satisfy their thirst for information, but not enough to open themselves up for their weaknesses to be exploited.

#lego ninjago #ninjago

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moraxsthrone · 2 years ago

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OK I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY AND PROUD OF YOURSELF BC YOU SINGLE-HANDEDLY GAVE ME ITTO BRAINROT HOW?? WHY?? W H A T???? DFCVHBNJNKMLAG

Indulge me with this little thirst

Imagine you're wearing the cutest lacy frilly lingerie set (bonus if it matches his colors black/purple/red) that just accentuates all the right curves and spots, crisscross stripes over your skin aND WHEN HE SEES YOU HE JUST GOES 👀!!!!!!! jaw hits the floor blushing drooling and repeating "babe" your name and freaking out, brain stops working just pulls you up on his big strong arms and sits you on his lap (and BOI his not-so-little friend downstairs is already excited huh)

and you just go :3c all coy and cute and delicate leaning in pressing your chest against his, scooting closer "Itto baby you gotta be careful unwrapping your present, it would be a shame to tear up something so pretty... right?" finger drawing circles on his skin making him SHIVER

AND IMAGINE HIM JUST S T R U G G L I N G TO KEEP IT TOGETHER and be delicate untying the lacy strings like NAH MAN he's got BIG HANDS NOT MADE FOR THIS TASK LMAO

plus you're making it REAL hard kissing and chuckling at his neck and rolling your hips against his crotch slow and sensual

by the time those panties come off they're soaked through with a mix of his pre and your slick asxdcvghjbnjkl

*HSAKING BITING MY PILLOW HORNY GRIP*

MA'AM I WROTE AN ENTIRE FIC WHAT HAVE YOU D O N E i think.... i think you gave me a size kink........ BUT GODS YOUR WRITING IS SO!!!!! *rabid horny crys noises*

i’ll have you know i am quite pleased with myself for making you (and anyone else who will listen) foam at the mouth for arataki mf itto.

‧₊˚ pairing — arataki itto x f!reader

‧₊˚ wc — 1.3k

‧₊˚ cw — nsfw. mdni. fem!reader. praise. oral (m. & f. rcv'ing). implied squirting.

‧₊˚ a/n — okay, so crys sent me this WEEKS AGO and every time i sat down and tried to answer, the words just wouldn't come out right? BUT THEN i realized itto's bday was only a few weeks away (at the time) and since she describes you as being his "present" IT HIT ME LIKE A TON OF BRICKS...THIS WOULD MAKE THE PERFECT BIRTHDAY IDEA FOR OUR ONE AND ONI KING ARATAKI ITTO!!

poor itto’s just sitting there, looking down between his claws and the cute frilly bra you have on, his big oni head full, debating with himself over whether he should try to be delicate and slowly work the lacy underthings off of you, or throw caution to the wind and get the things off of you as quickly as he can by Any Means Necessary™️. as ravishing as you look in that dainty lingerie, he decides it's worth sacrificing in the name of getting his mouth on your tits as quickly as possible. his hands are trembling a little and his cock is throbbing underneath your thigh when his pretty crimson eyes meet yours, full of unspoken apologies.

but then he gets another idea. a better idea.

what if he can do everything he wants with you without taking the lingerie off at all????

itto grabs two handfuls of your ass, squeezing your plush flesh between his big fingers as he guides your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel the heat of your cunt dragging along his clothed length. he’s so hard and big you can feel the ridge of his cockhead through the thin material of your panties, which are getting wetter with your slick by the second.

you huff a breathy laugh against his neck, shuddering a little when your clit catches on the front seam of his pants. you’re moving on your own when he captures your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding your face away from his neck so he can press his lips to yours. his kiss is needy and passionate, a quiet groan escaping his throat when you push your tongue into his mouth. oh, he likes that very much, especially when you lick at his fangs with a playful moan.

he cups one of your tits in his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, making you whine a little in his mouth. he can feel your hard nipple through the lacy material and pushes the cup of the bra down to let your tit spill out into his hand. he temporarily abandons your fervent kiss to trace the tip of his tongue around your pebbled bud before closing his lips around it to suckle, his tongue still swirling. You push your fingers into his hair, holding onto his horns as your head falls back in pleasure.

he picks you up and puts you on your back before getting on his knees and pushing your open legs back, spreading them wide so he can see the dark wet spot that has formed in the fabric that's covering your juicy cunt. he can smell you and it’s making his cock drool inside his pants. he kisses your folds through the flimsy cloth, the tip of his nose nudging your hard clit as he goes. soft presses of his lips turn into open-mouthed kisses just before he teases your sweet little pearl. he flattens his tongue against your cunt, making you moan at the feeling of his hot, wet muscle as it makes pinpoints of contact with your skin through the lacy panties.

“mmm baby, your pussy tastes so good…fuck,” itto mutters, his voice heavy with lust.

hooking his finger inside the crotch of your panties, itto moves the lace over to one side, exposing your pink, glistening slit. the sight of your beautiful pussy has him licking his lips...then slowly licking yours. you flinch beneath him, heels digging into his hard shoulders when he flicks and rolls your tiny hard-on around with the tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it in. your oni may not be the smartest guy, but he knows how to eat pussy like no other. he pulls off long enough to stick his middle finger in his mouth and get it wet before carefully pushing it in your hole, watching your face with a mischievous grin as your back arches for him when you feel the slight stretch of his thick digit. he slowly fucks you with his finger before adding another.

and you certainly don't have to take anything off to be able to swallow his thick cock. he thinks it’s so sweet when you choke on it bc it shows how much you wanna please him and make him feel good. so he brushes his thumb over your hollowed cheek and there’s so much adoration in his fiery eyes when he groans and tells you how good you are to him. you treat him like a king and he dotes on you bc you’re his queen.

and when he's ready to fuck you, he just rolls you onto your belly and pushes those purple little panties to the side. the thong is hooked around his thumb as he holds onto your hips and pushes his leaking cockhead inside you. little by little, inch by inch, he fills you with his thick oni cock and starts hitting it from the back. your whimpers and gasps of his name spur him on, driving his big dick in and out of your juicy cunt. he watches the way your tight little hole stretches open around his wide shaft, his fang leaving an indentation where he bites his lower lip to keep from cumming too fast. “nhnnn…fuck yeah, baby! takin’ my cock so well…” he praises you as the front of his muscular thighs clap against the back of yours.

a few more thrusts and he pulls out, making you whine. but before you can protest, he’s got you on your back and his huge hands around your ankles, pulling them against the hard plane of his chest. itto’s bedroom eyes are burning into yours when the tip of his tongue swipes across his lower lip as he guides his fat tip back to your hole. he pushes inside you again, his open-mouthed groan harmonizing with your pretty sigh as your wet heat stretches around him, tight and welcoming like he’s right where he’s supposed to be. leaning forward, he puts you in a press and starts fucking you again, but this time it’s slow and deep. irises of molten rock peer into your watering eyes as he tells you how beautiful you are, how good you are to him, how much he appreciates you and the way you’ve given him the best birthday present of all:

you. you, and your love.

your legs are hanging helplessly over his beefy, marked arms. the red straps of your bra have long fallen off your shoulders, your tits spilling out of the flimsy cups and bouncing with every hard thrust of itto’s strong hips. his long, white hair has fallen over his shoulders to tickle your skin, and your eyes soften.

“mmm, happy birthday, my king…” you sigh.

he leans in closer, pressing your knees to your chest, his hips still snapping into yours as he cups your jaw in his big hand. “i love you, my queen…love you so fuckin’ much,” he breathes, then kisses you hard. your tongues swirl and his hips begin to stutter. “fuck, m'so close. cum...cum with me, baby…”

with the way his thick, bulbous cockhead has been tugging at your sweet spot for the past few minutes, you don't need to be told twice. you place your hands on either side of his face and nod, panting. he buries himself deep and grinds into you, his coarse thatch of white pubic hair rubbing your clit as his heavy balls draw up tighter and tighter against your taint.

“oh gods…” he sighs, “...fuck…”

“cum for me, itto,” you gasp, beckoning him as your own orgasm takes hold and he feels you gush all around him, soaking his lower abs and crying his name.

he plants his lips against one of your palms and squeezes his eyes shut, grunting, “cumming…i- nngghhaa fuck!” his hips twitch and jerk into you as the first jet of his hot semen erupts inside you. his oni ancestry ensures that he cums in massive loads, filling you to the brim and spilling out of you before he’s even done emptying himself inside your womb.

‧₊˚ itto m.list || happy bday you big sexy oni *kisses his horns, one at a time*

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lorimnnn · 2 years ago

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Hiii! May I request something for Kazan Yamaoka?

During a match at the Yamaoka Estate where Kazan sees from a distance survivor reader is gonna go to a gen that's in one of the houses but she catches herself before she steps inside. She takes her shoes off and leaves them at the door before going to the gen. Despite it being a realm different from the real world she still respects Japanese culture. And she does this every time she goes through any houses in his realm.

Idk I'm just curious how Kazan would react to this since none of the other survivors or killers (besides him maybe) respect this. But if not that's totally ok!

omg, I can't explain how much I love this request! I know it took me ages but I'm here! I'm looking to write more on Kazan because there's hardly anything on him.

☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆

warnings: canon-typical violence and gore, life-threatening situations, swearing, i hate editing so obviously it's not edited but i'll probably go over it one day

trope summary: fluff, slow-burn

☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆

You were the last one left. Did you know that?

It had never crossed your mind--- so no, you didn't. You had learned long ago not to care about those types of things when you were facing killers like The Oni. He was a devourer. Your teammates never stood a chance to begin with.

But you didn't know that.

The first time The Entity threw you into The Oni's world, you took off running. That's what your other teammates did, anyway. There had been a collective groan when the fog cleared and you all came to terms with where you were--- then a grim caress of fear that seemed to possess all of you. The sight of your teammates so flighty had struck you the wrong way and you weren't going to go about asking questions about it.

The primal roar in the distance said all that you needed to know.

What was this place, anyway?

It was like you'd time-travelled to Edo-era Japan. It was beautiful and antique and you'd never seen anything quite like it. But you'd always wanted to travel to Japan.

The Entity took that chance away from you.

You found yourself reminiscing over all those lost opportunities. You were never going to get them back. You should've gone even when you were sure you were going to be dirt poor afterwards. You should have taken the chance and travelled everywhere as soon as you got the money for it. You didn't even know what you were saving for. Everyone else was doing it, so you supposed you were supposed to as well. But what was the point of having so much money if you couldn't even use it to buy the things that would make you happy?

If you could go back, you would leap at the chance to travel somewhere here. But you supposed that 'here' wouldn't really exist in the real world. Not like this. Not at the peak of it's grandeur.

Ha! The irony.

Could you even call this a privilege when you were only here to die?

You heard Kate cry out in the distance. You flinched; you needed to wake up. Work on some gens. You were still running aimlessly, trying to get away---

Kate had just died, and here you were.

Admiring the scenery.

Idiot.

You'd always been little airy-fairy. Not quite there, sometimes too much in the moment, sometimes a little too far off. It meant you had a lot of delayed reactions, such as now.

Right now, you needed to be thinking of how to stay alive and keep your teammates that way, too.

So you headed for the house, running faster than ever. The doors were open and you could already see the gen.

"Quick," you muttered to yourself.

Before he catches up to you.

You hadn't seen The Oni, but you'd heard stories about him. Gruesome stories of his brutal, unforgiving nature, his mistaken dignity and honour. A true warrior who had been corrupted by his blood thirst.

You wondered how a samurai of all things learned such villainy. Weren't they all about honour? That's what you'd read in your books, at least. Now you weren't so sure.

Before entering the house with the gen in sight, you paused. You know you shouldn't of. You know that he was the last person in this hellish world deserving of respect when he was literally out killing all of you, but---

But this was different.

"It's the bare minimum," you reassured yourself. It helped comfort your warring fear that you were crazy. That you were empathising with a killer.

You took off your shoes and aligned them neatly outside before heading in and working the gen.

Too easy.

It was all too easy. Sometimes so much so that it got boring very quickly--- the same chase, the same screams, the same mindless fury that Entity infused him with. It wasn't as though he cared about the survivors in any way. He couldn't care less if they had families, let alone worth it personalities. But there was no more motive behind the kills. No more drive.

It was the ultimate disgrace to his honour---

But if Kazan admitted that, what would the Entity do?

It would be an insult. It would risk his life and extended existence, and there was so much he hadn't done yet. So much he was already doing that he had vowed to finish. One day the Entity would release him and he would resume his life and old purpose. Or maybe he would start all over again and honour his father better.

That was his secret hope.

You were the last survivor. He hadn't met you yet. Hadn't even heard of you, but he knew that you weren't fresh of the boat if you had eluded him so easily. You must have heard things or been smart to ask if it meant that it was your first instinct to run.

"Shoes...?" He muttered to himself.

He could hear you working on the gen. You were so diligent. So focused.

So naive--- how had you not heard him?

Well, Kazan had been taking his time with you. He didn't attempt to be quiet often. The kills were usually so quick that it didn't even matter. He was fast and they were prey and he would consume them before they even knew they were food.

But that was a thought for another day, because---

Because---

You had put your shoes outside. You had set them up neatly. It was a custom he had almost forgotten about and learned not to apply to the survivors. He never bothered to hold it against them, either. In this game of life and death, customary traditions were the last of any of their worries, even his.

And yet you had remembered.

Something dead twitched in his cold, hollow heart. It was small, but so significant that it barrelled into him--- a short breath escaped him in a husky puff.

Warmth.

He was feeling... warmth.

He looked up from your shoes. He watched you gently, the hardness receding from his gaze for that moment alone--- he observed your fixated frown, the nimble work of your fingers, the way you were still too absorbed to notice him...

Kill.

The Entity's voice startled him, even if it didn't show. It had been a while since she had spoke to him at all, and it was only at the start when he'd been summoned to this cruel arena of death.

Her voice was sharp. Cutting.

A warning.

Kill.

Was this all they were meant to do? To kill and consume, to die and be reborn, only for the cycle to continue until the end of eternity?

Could he really kill you now?

He would never admit it. Not allowed, unless he wanted to die. But the Entity's voice, it had disgusted him. It probably knew that. Somehow, even a fraction of his hesitance had amounted into something significant enough for the Entity to speak--- it knew all.

It knew he wanted to spare you, just for this small gesture.

But it knew he wouldn't.

Kazan killed you in cold blood.

He thought about you long after.

The Oni was said to roar when he killed. It was loud and brutal and everyone knew about it--- you became a sacrifice in his hands, and you died with honour.

Did he hate you?

Why had he killed you so silently?

One moment you had been working on the gen. The next you were dead. All you saw was a flash of a grotesque mask. It was drenched in blood but you were still able to make out the curving and elongated features of it, the bright red eyes that shone through and burned through your soul. You hadn't even had time to scream. To feel scared. He had grabbed you and killed you from behind and all you'd seen was the blur that the last seconds of living had afforded you--- in that way, you felt betrayed.

Had you insulted him by doing what you had thought would appease him?

You hadn't even intended to win his favour. That gesture had been out of respect for his culture. It had been more for you than anything.

Did he think you were shitting on his culture instead? What the fuck?

You were more angry about it than you had right to be. Jake was out doing his alone-time things in the woods when you bumped into him, kicking twigs and punching trees.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," you grumbled. Jake didn't believe you, and you were terrible at hiding things. You sighed. "I hate killers! I hate them! What the fuck!"

Jake's usually impassive face betrayed the hint of a smile. "I know."

"Why are they such heartless pains in the ass?"

"They're built that way."

"Were they not people, once upon a time?"

"Hardly." Jake shrugged. He tried to end the conversation there, but you kept following him around and eventually he was forced to sit when you clung to his sleeve. "They have inhuman backstories. So I've heard."

"And what's The Oni's?"

Jake snorted. "He's bothering you?"

"Is it that unbelievable?"

"He's not worth a backstory," Jake said. "Trust me. He's purely in it for the kill."

Somehow, that made you angrier.

You clung to Jake's sleeve harder when he tried to stand, and he looked at you, slightly irritated.

"Can I go now?"

"No," you said flatly.

"What do you want?"

You stopped. He sighed.

You let go of his sleeve and sat there, fighting tears. They fell anyway.

Kazan didn't understand you.

You didn't understand Kazan.

You kept unintentionally respecting him, and he kept killing you. he didn't really know how to react, actually. You were too...

Too-

Too kind.

He caught himself stalking you outside of trials. He covered it up by banging on the boundary that separated the killers from the victims and acting like he was trying to come after you. At first you were scared. He regretted scaring you.

Kazan did it again and again anyway. It had been a while since he'd felt anything. The more trials he had with you, the more things he was left to grapple with. He hated it.

He yearned for it.

So he kept seeking you out.

You were kind. A bit stupid--- how could you not see how the other survivors abused your purpose and skillset? Or did you know? Why did you let it happen if you knew?

You seemed to like the other survivors, though. He couldn't understand why.

He quickly learned that you were sentimental. Ah. That made sense. No wonder you bothered with things such as cultural customs.

Sentimental was not good. It meant emotional.

To be emotional in a place like this was to kill yourself over and over, and everyone knew it. It had established the natural order of kill or be killed. Survive or die. And yet you were there, uprooting it.

No wonder everyone borderline disliked you. You showed too much interest in doing more, being more. Connecting.

How long had it been since he'd connected?

He supposed he had Rin. His descendant. But that was a bit different, wasn't it?

"What the fuck is your problem?" You'd yelled out once. You'd startled him by coming right up to the boundary and screaming in his face--- he'd stopped trying to break it just to let you speak. "What the fuck do you want? Why do you want to kill me so bad? Are you okay? Are you good?" You paused to take a breath. You were panting, hot in the cheeks, sweat beginning to bead in your hairline. "Are you fucking okay?"

He should have been angry. Who gave you the right to talk to him in such a way?

Who?

Who gave you a right to make him feel like this?

Feel anything?

And who the fuck gave you the right to make him feel bad of all things when he caught you crying?

He wouldn't have seen them if you hadn't turned your head that slightest angle, the sun hitting the thing glaze of your tears. They were shining.

You seemed to realise you were about to fall apart the same time he did and retreated. Why were you embarrassed?

Why was he contradicting himself?

Kazan watched you run away into the woods. He growled when he saw that black haired one who often pretended to ignore you sigh to himself and then run after you.

He shouldn't have stalked the both of you as far as the barrier allowed him to. Shouldn't have hid when he heard you sobbing out loud, shouldn't have stayed hidden when that stupid survivor took you into his arms--- pretending to hate it--- and let you cry there as he battled with his red cheeks.

The next time he had a trial with Jake Park, he brutalised him again and again.

Jake didn't know why, of course. And would The Oni ever tell him?

No.

Because how would he even begin to explain what he was feeling when he didn't even know himself?

You'd had enough.

The Oni had made you his obsession over and over, saving you for last. It had made his kills twice as brutal and twice as painful because know you were always ready for them.

And recently he'd been coming on to you with a vengeance, like you'd done something wrong.

You were going to sort this out for once and for all. Somewhere along the way it had become incredibly personal and this undiscovered connection and had become intimate, even if it was mostly comprised of him killing you for more than just that, killing you. Somehow that alone made it all the more emotional, all the more addictive.

You couldn't run away; there was nowhere to go.

So the next time you had a chance, you went to his realm on your own. You hunted him down and yelled in his face--- he hadn't expected you, clearly.

He had been meditating in his temple and suddenly you had come flying out of nowhere.

"Why are you doing this?" You shouted. "Why do you keep doing this? I don't get it. What have I done to hurt you so personally?"

The Oni scrambled--- ungracefully-- to his feet and stood up.

"Are you seriously going to kill me again?" you wailed. "Outside of a trial of all things? I just came to talk! Because you're a bully! A mean fucking bully!"

The Oni hesitated, his hand uncurling from his katana.

"I hate you!" You yelled.

He said nothing. Of course he did.

Now you just felt embarrassed.

"I hope I never get put in a trial with you ever again!"

That prompted the Oni to take a step closer to you. You were already walking away, though, and was surprised to find the Oni close behind, trailing at a modest distance away. You walked faster. So did he.

You walked slower.

So did he.

"Go away," you mumbled, shoving your feet back into your shoes. "You make me so mad. I don't know what I've done to piss you ff this much, but I hope it's worth it!"

The Oni kept following you.

It was quickly becoming aggravating. You stopped and turned around, probably to yell at him, but seeing him just standing there made you too mad for words and you turned back around to walk. You stomped your foot and screamed at the sky.

You hated this.

It made no sense.

You jumped at the feeling of a hand curling around yours. It was big and meaty and riddled with scars and veins. It was a human hand. The Oni's hand.

And he was touching you gently, like you could break at any moment.

Like he was sorry.

But Kazan would never say it.

"...Stay," he said.

You gawked. You hadn't even realised he could talk. You'd been sure his only language was punching and letting out battle cries. Still, over the revelation, you glared at him. "Are you crazy? What if you kill me?"

"I won't."

He held your hand slightly tighter. Was that a threat?

You pulled away your hand to test it; he didn't try squeeze it harder.

Not a threat.

"Um..."

Oh.

What did you do now?

You hadn't expected this.

"Stay," he said again.

"Why?"

"For tea."

You felt like laughing. Was he serious? Was he actually genuine? For tea? He wanted you to stay for tea? Huh? What? Why-

"Yes," you said. "Okay."

You were staying for tea.

The Oni was... Not what you expected. He didn't say much, but when he did, it was choked and gruff like he wasn't used to talking. And maybe he wasn't.

You were skeptical the whole time, but not once did he move to hurt you. He didn't even poison the tea that he made--- hand ground and the water boiled over a fire. He showed you his every move with distinct slowness like he knew you were watching.

"Does it ever get lonely here?" You found yourself blurting. "All alone. I mean, I heard you're related to Rin. Is that true?"

All you got was a nod. You weren't sure whether that was to the first or the second question, but you ran with it.

"Do you often make tea?"

He shook his head.

"Am I annoying you?"

The Oni looked at you again--- this time sharply, and you tensed and held your breath. You weren't expect the flash of deadpan attitude in his eyes when he sighed and turned away.

"So... I'm not?"

"Drink your tea," he said.

You did.

You should have never come back.

But the tea...

The tea was good.

Yeah, the tea.

So... Kazan may like you more than he thought.

It wasn't intentional; it had just happened. You kept coming for tea, he kept listening to you babble, and he started to crave your company the second you left. You had managed to fill a gap in his chest that he hadn't even realised had been vacant to begin with.

You were just so beautiful.

It had caught him by surprise. One day you came to his realm, took off your shoes and waited for him to pour you a cup of tea and it had struck him that you were the most stunning thing to exist in all his millennia of living, and could spend a millenia more of just admiring you if you allowed. But you never did.

You always thought something was wrong when he stared at you for too long. Always took it as your cue to leave.

Kazan regretted killing you over and over again.

Maybe if he didn't, you'd be more willing to trust him again.

"Yamaoka Kazan," he said one afternoon. It had slipped out. You were in the middle of talking and then he'd just said it.

"Pardon?"

"My name."

"Oh, well if I'm right, you introduced yourself with your last name first. Out of respect, should I call you Mr Yamaoka?"

That alone sent a shudder down his spine. Kazan barely managed to hide it. The only thing stopping him was his need for you to say it again, say it more intimately. Say it like you meant it. And not his last name.

"No," he said.

You were past that. You deserved more. Deserved everything.

But selfishly, he wanted something from you first.

Hesitantly, you tried his name in your mouth. "... Kazan?"

Kazan.

Suddenly he was just a man, not a killer. A man who had lived and breathed and felt things, and now he felt them for you.

"Well, if we're on that level, my name is Y/n."

"Y/n."

You looked away from him, and he smirked beneath his mask.

It seemed he affected you just as much.

☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆☆…☆…☆…☆…☆…☆

I swear to the universe the only thing i could think of with 'you were staying for tea' was that meme from mulan like 'would you like to stay for dinner' and then the grandma yelling out 'would you like to stay forever' but it's rin

I wanna write a pt. 2 for this but would you be interested in that?

As always, please reblog!

#dbd #kazan yamaoka #kazan yamaoka x reader #the oni #the oni dbd #dbd killers #dbd killers x reader #the oni x reader #dbd the oni x reader #the oni dbd x reader

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flurrys-creativity · 8 months ago

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Moanday Night Version

Pairing: Oni!Choi Jongho (Ateez) x Fem!Reader; Genre: fantasy au, supernatural au, oni au, smut; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: big dick, unprotected sex, slight voyerism, size kink/ size difference; Wordcount: 341

Summary: You were warned about the oni living in the forest. Still, you found yourself on top of one.

A/N: Welcome to the second installment of the Thirst Week! This time the Night Versions!!

“Oh, fuck”, you moaned loudly as your head rolled back on your shoulders and your eyes closed from the pleasure.

Never, in a million years, would you have imagined riding an Oni. But here you were, feeling like the size of his dick alone split you in half with every thrust inside. It was common for Oni to be double the size of a mere human man - and it wasn’t just the height.

Another moan rippled through your throat, the pleasure wafting through every fibre of your body as it built up into that tight, tingling knot.

Your legs already lost all their strength and weren’t it for Jongho’s strong hold on your hips, his thrust probably would have sent you flying by now.

“Jongho”, you moaned as your hands wandered along your bare upper body, teasing your breasts and nipples.

He grunted lowly, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes trained on your hands. While Jongho had tricked you into believing he was a man, who got lost and hurt in the forest of this mountain, he couldn’t keep his appearance up for long. For a moment Jongho even believed you to be some sort of bewitching creature - yet you were nothing but a simple human woman.

“I’m close”, you half whimpered, half moaned. Your nails gently scratched along your fair skin, desperately trying to find some sort of leverage.

“Hold onto my tusks”, Jongho commanded with another grunt. He slowed his thrusts down until your fingers wrapped around his enlarged lower canines. “Hold on tight, little human,” he told you with a hint of mirth coating his voice, “and let me hear how good you’re feeling.”

His words were already more than enough to make your knees weak and skyrocket you to your orgasm. Paired with his brutal pace and precise hits, he had you seeing stars in no time.

Nothing but moans were able to leave your mouth. Nothing but moans were heard around the forest. And Jongho would make sure to hear them whenever he wanted to.

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @songsoomin @aaa-sia

#pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #kvanity #choi jongho #ateez #ateez jongho #drabble #ateez drabble #jongho drabble #night version #moanday #lemon week

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helix-enterprises117 · 9 months ago

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John Halo character bio

Name: John Downes

Aliases: "Master Chief" (callsign), "Ranger" and "Jean/Jaune" (out-of-universe nicknames), "The Operative" (by ONI), John-117 and Sierra-117 (serial-designation), "The Demon" (by the Covenant).

Rank: Major

Age and DOB: 22, March 7th 25,530

Abilities:

Enhanced speed, agility, reflexes, reaction-time, endurance and stamina.

145 IQ and skilled in technology and gadgetry.

Multilingual, including alien languages.

(A recent/upcoming upgrade) MIRAGE-IIC suit allows for temporary holo-decoy creation. Also uses Forerunner energy-cells to power it's overshield.

Night-Vision.

Speicalizes in espionage and scouting.

Personality: Don't let his permanent-resting scowl fool you, John is a kind (if a bit gruff) man whose chip-on-his-shoulder is balanced out by his empathy. He's good with kids and offers a lot of advice despite his young age. He was once an over-achieving control-freak in his child and teen years, but he's long since mellowed out.

Backstory: Born and raised in Fort Elysium on the planet Eridanus-II, where Doctor Halsey took him into Spartan Academy, a military-school designed to train gifted children into noble supersoldiers to combat against the Covenant menace, a threat humanity had been battling since 22,222. John lost Eridanus-II weeks after being sworn in, giving him an unquenchable thirst for vengeance. He was the underdog, and while he's the respected Master Chief (his callsign, not his rank) now, his reputation, accolades and position within the United Nations Star Council DID NOT come easy or naturally, as he had to fight and claw his way to the top.

Relationships: Linda-058 (wife, default AU-canon), Raya Muse (alternate wife, OC AU-canon), Cortana (friend and work-partner).

Facts: He's missing his right eye after getting shot with a plasma pistol by a lucky Jackal who saw him with his helmet off.

Official Character Theme:

youtube

#halo #halo fanfic #halo fanfiction #john 117 #jaune 117 #jean 117 #master chief fanfiction #master chief #master chief fanfic #halo reloaded #halo au #helix studios117 #Youtube

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saltymorde · 1 year ago

Note

Love your art but also wanna thirst for it If you're still taking request's Oni holding a leash?

Care to come and test that leash?

#dbd #artists on tumblr #dead by daylight #kazan yamaoka #the oni #fanart #oni #dbd oni #suggestive

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ira-sturm · 2 months ago

Note

Chiasa would take Olgan's hands in her own, before pushing them into her own face, and pressing their foreheads together. "Tell me how ya would protect me."

"Hmm.." A low rumble, the oni in thought for a few moments.

"You would not thirst, you would not hunger You'd need not fear, nor weep a single tear For I would be here."

A little poem she thought up on the spot.

"I would ensure your mind, your body, and your soul remained stalwart to any foul intrusions, any inkling of danger would need to sail the seven seas, bare the brunt of the worst hurricanes, the highest waves, and the deepest depths, before even allowed a moment to glance at you, and before even then I would be your vigilant protector, such dangers would need pass through me to get to you."

A small toothy smile, rubbing her forehead against theirs for a moment, before stealing a loving little kiss. "I will not allow you to be hurt as you have, I promise."

@risingshine

#i do like that poem...

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kassandrasdisciple · 3 months ago

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Fears X Killers Pt.2

Welcome to part two of what Fears from the Magnus Archives I think the Killers from DbD would serve.

If you missed part 1 you can find it here, as always this is what Entity I think the Killers would be Avatars of, not who they'd be victims of. I.E. The Legion would be preyed on by The Lonely but they wouldn't serve it.

With that out the way, here are my picks!

The Plague

The Corruption

In all honesty Adiris could be the "pestilent chieftain who found her breath sloughed from her body and rotted whatever it touched" in MAG: 200. I won't say much to justify this choice because ... who else would she serve? She feels analogous to Jane Prentiss in a way. She was scared of The Corruption/Entity, she reached out for help from others, but the only answer she got was from The Corruption/Entity itself. She becomes a symbol of Plague, not in shame but in servitude to her god(s).

The Oni

The Slaughter

Rage, pride and avarice. Kazan speed runs becoming a Slaughter avatar. He believes himself to be better than other samurai of the era, killing, humiliating and hunting down any he saw as inferior. He got genuinely confused as to why people had an issue with his mass murdering as he saw it as purifying the samurai class.

His end starts with him being so unable to differentiate his victims that he kills his own father. Instead of taking this as a sign to reflect he blames the lord who's been badmouthing his family name, so he kills his guards, rips out his tendons and tongue and is finally defeated by a whole-ass peasant army.

Kazan is what Melanie would've become if she had a Kanabō instead of a box cutter.

The Deathslinger

The Stranger

This one is gonna be from left field but stay with me. Caleb grew up as an Irish immigrant in the wild west. He spent his childhood being treated as the "Other", watching his father be denied jobs due to his Irishness.

After an adolescence of othering and loneliness, being ignored by his peers, he makes a trade of selling patents, but he doesn't get recognition for these inventions, no that glory goes to his soon-to-be nemesis Henry Bayshore.

After being set up, he's sprung from prison to become a bounty-hunter. Arriving in towns across the frontier to haul off outlaws with his gruesome inventions, and dissappear straight after. He forms the Hellshire gang that eventually helps him kill his last 2 victims; the guy who freed him and his nemesis Henry. They die in a faceless mob set upon them by Caleb.

Caleb was a mysterious trader of ill-fortune like Salesa but, unlike Mikaele, he never rose out of anonymity. He was never recognised for either his patents or his inventions, finally leaving this plane after a mindless mob of gang members and numbered, depersoned, prisoners ripped apart his most hated duo.

The GILF gunman would roll with the Circus.

The Blight

The Eye

Just deadass ran the 1850s version of MKUltra. If Jurgen Lightner invented Cocaine and LSD you would get Talbot Grimes. Both also got brained by a pipe too.

Talbot didn't set out to be cruel or even kill, he just had a hyperfixation for chemistry and drugs. He originally wanted to learn everything about how people react to stimuli and exposure to chemicals. But once he got a taste for the forbidden knowledge of the Entity he obsessed over the Pustula flowers. His thirst for that which he couldn't comprehend lead him into the realms, and into abducting other killers to experiment on even when that is an incredibly stupid idea. He needs to know.

The Twins

The Lonely

The only sympathetic killer on this list depending on how you view Adiris. Very different from the part 1, now they're all bastards.

In this I'll just be writing about Charlotte as its most likely that the Victor we see isn't actually Victor.

With that, Charlotte just wants to be left alone. She's been hunted all her life because of her conjoined status. She's lost all belief in other people as they've continually scorned, attacked, and hunted her. Watching as they burnt her mother at the stake.

I'm not gonna lie, Charlotte's backstory always gets me, it's a shame she's always played by the worst people ever. Anyways Charlotte is solidly The Lonely, she wants to be alone with her family, even if their dead, she wants to rest, and she will kill to protect that isolation. And honestly? I can't blame her.

The Trickster

The Corruption

This also might seem strange but I want to prime you with this first. Think of The Corruption as seen in MAG: 153, Lovebombing. Instead of being like Adiris mirroring Jane, Ji-Woon is the Hive. A Corruption of love.

He killed because he wanted to hear his fans scream his name, beg for him. He loved Yun-Jin for making him a star, and in repayment he gave her a front row seat to his human orchestra. Ji-Woon needs to feel seen and heard and loved. He's closer to the monsters of The Corruption (the hive, petite scarabée, Agape the dog) than the other avatars who serve it.

The Artist

The Eye

I lied! There is another sympathetic killer! I would die for Carmina, she did nothing wrong, and I'll hear nothing more on the matter. However to justify my pick, we'll have to show how Carmina became a killer because of the Eye.

Growing up in Chile, Carmina saw corruption and apathy everywhere. She channeled this into her art, painting her feelings of grief and anger for both herself and her country onto her canvas. When a shady organisation tried to commission her, she exposed them, forming a group of radical artists that painted murals of their exploitation.

Unfortunately when Carmina and her friends sought refuge with her father, he sold them out. But as her tongue and hands were cut off she called down the crows, stand-ins for her own emotional trauma, making her attackers suffer the same pain as her.

I know crows are symbols of the Entity, but in her lore they read as symbolism for her own feelings aswell. Forcing the same emotions onto her kidnappers via animals associated with thought and knowledge? Very Eye coded.

The Dredge

The Dark

The Dredge is hard to categorise. The village it spawns from is an exact match to The Sick Village of MAG: 164. Born of paranoia, the Dredge is a manifestation of the villagers fear, sleep deprivation and repression. However the Dredge doesn't really fit the themes of The Corruption, it didn't root itself in flesh and wait to sprout in silence. It lurked in the shadows, picking off the weak, and alerting the villagers to its existence. Now this was just Otto building up the myth of the Durandee. But these are the attributes the Dredge is eventually born with.

Also within the game the Dredge favours the dark. It strips visability, exploding out of lockers and has a formless incohesion of a body. Within the TMA universe I think it's more similar to the stalking, Still and Lightless Beast. Furthermore, the villagers being a mass sacrifice to call forth the Dredge feels very similar to the mass drownings that the people's church did on the eclipse.

Or I could just say it makes game go dark so The Dark.

The Knight

The Vast

Breaking the mold we have the first, and what I think will be the last, Vast killer.

Tarhos is strange, it's almost easier to define him by what he isn't. He didn't revel in Slaughter like Oni, only killing when people were in his way. He was fascinated with the Entity but not like Blight was, he's not obsessed with knowing more, he just wants to be closer to it. He didn't hunt, or isolate or manipulate his followers/enemies. Truely, when you read his lore you get this impression of detachment, the only time he shows passion is when he remembers the feeling of the Entity's power, how insignificant he felt.

It's not just himself he sees as insignificant however, he travels from Turkey to Portugal and doesn't even parse the distance, it's such a small journey to him in relation to what he's searching for, a map to the Entity's realm. He doesn't understand the laws of honour and valour the other Lords hold him to, to Tarhos, laws are feeble restrictions on his freedom.

His apathy to his dead family, his comments on the all encompassing affect of war and how it makes civilians insignificant and his view of this world as "cosmic mud" screams Vast avatar to me and I can't think of any other Fear he'd suit.

The Skull-merchant

The Hunt

Our final killer for this part, and a pretty meh one at that. Adriana's backstory is pretty muddled, she's an overachiever who's dad is a mediocre manga artist (who also prophesied her fate). She has a normal childhood, becomes a business mogul and starts live, laugh loving late-stage capitalism. As with all tech billionaires this inspires a want to kill other humans personally instead of by proxy, so she starts hunting people for sport.

We don't really hear much of her exploits though? Only the one that she fucks up and ends up with her in the realm. Because of this and I guess her interest in hunting people, that she apparently had all along, she's in The Hunt. Abit of a disappointment to end on, and I hope they give her more lore in the future that expands on her murders whilst she was in the real world but we'll see.

And that's our second set of killers!

I just noticed that I've repeated 2 fears twice, same as in part 1. Obviously if you disagree with any of my choices please let me know. Most could be easily assigned Desolation or Hunt but I like trying to find the more unique choices. The only fear I haven't covered yet is The Extinction (and I have a good candidate next time).

The next part will cover Singularity, Unknown, Litch, Dark Lord and Houndmaster. I'll either keep it as just those 5 or cover 5 of the licences aswell to make a full ten.

As always thank you for reading.

< Icons and art came from the dbd wiki and Grace Holsten's tumblr respectively >

#the magnus archives #tma #the magnus institute #tma avatars #dbd killers as avatars #dbd #dead by daylight killers #dead by daylight

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