#THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN

[evilproxxy]

hey babe, if you’re up to it i’d like something predatory involving night hunter. fem!reader is fine. suggestive/nsfw is totally up to you but i do love size kink. thanks for considering. 💚

thank you for the request!!!!!!! of COURSE I'm up for it! 😍

got a bit carried away so this ended up much longer than expected, but I hope you like it! 🙈

pairing: night hunter x fem!reader

rating: nsfw 🌶️

tags: dubcon (at first), size kink, smut (kissing/groping/fingering), a dash of praise kink, kinda enemies to lovers??

🔞MDNI🔞

Where's a damn battery when you need one?

Knowing your luck, one's tucked right there in the inky black room that stands before you. Probably nestled alongside the last key you need to finally kill that fucking snitch. That, coincidentally, is why your goggles are currently on life support. It's been almost half an hour now, you and your fellow reagents stumbling around getting shocked by booby-trapped corpses, failure, failure, failure.

The door sits open - is it an invitation, or perhaps a dare?

You'd heard him. The elevator siren had blared its shrill warning, and you hadn't seen the pulsing glow of fire nor heard the whine of compressed gas. No, you'd heard him - snarling, ranting, dread on legs.

The man with the x-ray eyes, as he likes to call himself. He's got those goggles drilled into his damn skull and the idiot doesn't know the difference between x-ray and night vision?

You've not had many dealings with the Night Hunter as you'd mostly tried to avoid him, but the most recent rendezvous had been a miserable one. He'd cornered you in a dark office, pouncing on you while you'd been focused on picking a lock, and you'd managed to get away with only one chunk of your flesh hacked into. Lucky you.

Still tender from the unhealed wound, stitches bumpy and tight under your sleeve, you steel yourself. You're going in. You have to. It's the only place you haven't checked yet.

If you just had one damn battery.

You try to shake off your nerves as you head inside, attempting to manifest some kind of bravado within yourself. There's no point even bringing your lifeless goggles down, so you try to adjust your eyes to the darkness instead. Your fingertips brush along a desk, loose paperwork shunting on the surface as you blindly navigate the void.

You wince when you hear one of your colleagues screaming out for help, followed by the pounding footfall of a big grunt in pursuit. The obscenities and threats being yelled into the air send a chill down your spine, and you fight the urge to turn and run out there, to create a diversion and rescue your fellow reagent - but you know you need to focus on the task at hand. Get in, find that key, and get the fuck out.

The silence in your own room is somewhat reassuring. Perhaps the commotion outside has drawn the attention of every ex-pop in area, and if the Night Hunter is still around then he's bound to be searching for them instead of you. With a sliver of selfish confidence, you crouch down in the darkness and continue your mission. One clammy palm presses against the tiled floor, the other reaching out into the darkness to blindly search the area. You find a few boxes full of junk, a glass bottle that you tuck into your belt, more discarded documents. No battery, and no key.

As you continue to feel around, what you're hoping to find is that elusive final corpse, some poor nameless soul reduced to a simple prop for your therapy session. What you actually find, however, is a pair of legs.

The small, amused hum above you makes your heart dissolve in your chest.

"Found what you're looking for, little mouse?"

You freeze, as if he somehow won't see you if you just stay still. You can't swallow the saliva pooling behind your teeth, nor the lump growing in your throat. Your breath is caught in your chest, strangled by the sound of that patronising voice.

"Hm, not gonna try and run this time? Don't wanna make it fun for me?"

You can't help the whimper that slips from your lips.

Do you run? You might make it out to the light before he catches you. It's unlikely, but perhaps it's not impossible. Adrenaline is a powerful motivator. But he's fast, unexpectedly agile for his size. You learned that the hard way last time. There could still be another grunt outside too, you might stumble out of the frying pan and into the fire. And that machete, it gives him a longer reach, another lesson you'd learned last time...

As your mind races through your panicked risk assessment, trying frantically to weigh up costs and benefits, you hear him laugh. It's not friendly. No, it's malicious.

So, you run. Your pulse skyrockets, your heart threatening to simply stop in your chest as you try to scramble across the tiles, fighting to get to your feet. The faint light of the now-distant doorway beckons you as you slam into a desk, crying out in pain as you stumble back against another.

He's on you in an instant. You knew he would be, if you're honest with yourself. You feel ashamed, a foolish little girl playing stupid, stupid games.

"What's the deal, glow worm? Trying to earn yourself another scar?" He snarls as he grabs you by the jaw, slamming you back onto the desk. You hear the glass bottle smash at your hip, your only chance at defending yourself now laying in shards. Your back throbs as your harness bites into the soft skin on your back, and the shadow of his large form looms over you as your hands raise defensively. The glowing lenses of his goggles are inches from your face, as though he's examining each little detail of your terrified expression. "You got away from me last time, didn't you? Slippery little thing. That won't be happening again."

Last time?

He slides your sleeve up your shoulder, and a long finger traces over the stitched up wound as you're frozen in place. It's as though he's admiring his work.

Surely he doesn't remember you. There's no way.

"It's a shame to taint such a sweet little thing, but don't you worry," he hums thoughtfully, leaning in to breathe against your ear, his chest pressing your E.S.O.P. harshly into your chest. "I'll leave that pretty face in one piece."

A scream builds in your chest and swells uncontrollably as it escapes your lips. You despise the display of weakness, but you can't help yourself as you cry out, praying that one of the others might be close enough to hear your pleading, but a large hand clamps over your mouth.

"Mmm, I missed that sound," he groans breathily, keeping his body pressed firmly against yours as he forces himself between your legs. You try to keep them together, your hands grasping at his wrists as huge hands hold you in a vice-like grip, but it's useless. He's got you pinned and completely overpowered. "Haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

He really does remember you.

"But I need you to be quiet now, little mouse," he continues, brushing his nose against the side of your face as he breathes you in. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that your teeth might just crumble in your mouth, your cheeks stinging under his crushing grip. "Because if any of your little friends interrupt us, I'll be redecorating this shithole with their insides."

Paralysed by the threat, you try your best to nod a tiny confirmation in his grip - it's barely noticeable, but he feels it nonetheless. His grip on your jaw loosens slightly, and the hand over your mouth slides away, seemingly satisfied at your compliance as he reaches up to stroke your hair.

"Such a pretty little glow worm," he sighs, and it's almost affectionate. "The moment I saw you, I just knew I needed to get my hands on you."

Your mind is spinning, horror and intrigue swirling in your mind as you listen to his frightfully saccharine words. You've never heard him sound like this before, the softness in his voice so foreign, and you simply can't make sense of it.

"I-I don't... don't understand," you manage to croak out, your tongue heavy in your mouth as you try to speak.

"What is there to understand?" He hums as he brings his face close to yours once again. "I wanted you, and now I've got you."

You try to swallow, but your mouth is unimaginably dry. "Are you... going to kill me?"

His grip tightens on your jaw again, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you brace yourself for a stab, a claw, a rip - but it doesn't come. He just speaks softly, calmly, as though reassuring a nervous dog.

"Now why would I spoil our fun by doing something like that?"

The words make your stomach drop, your hands going limp in resignation. It's impossible to read his expression, eyes concealed by glass, face mostly obscured by his goggles, and everything else drenched in an endless darkness.

"So..." you begin to ask, but you're not sure you even want to know the answer. "...what are... what-"

You're cut off by his laughter. "No, I'm not going to kill you, little mouse, but I am going to have a little fun with you."

You can't help the tears that gather along your lash line, nor the choked sob that leaves your trembling lips.

"Please," you start, but you don't even know what you're hoping for. Freedom? Mercy? You can't see either of those coming your way any time soon. "Please, just... don't hurt me again."

He exhales through his nose, and it's slow, thoughtful. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Not too badly, anyway. No, I'm going to make you feel so good that you won't even want to leave."

Despite all the shit you have to put up with in this place - the barbaric tasks you've had to complete, the rotten places you've stuffed your hands into, the shit you've been made to wade through - all in the name of therapy... you never thought you'd be contending with something like this.

"I- please, I don't want that," you whimper, hands trembling as your eyes strain to see him in the darkness. "Please, I- I just want to go... I shouldn't have come in here, I'm sorry, please just-"

"I like how it sounds when you beg."

Tears begin to spill down your cheeks, unable to contain them anymore. You shake your head - well, as much as you can in his grip - and he sighs.

"Don't cry, little mouse," he coos, but the words feel almost like mockery. "See, I just knew this place would bring you back to me. Had to make sure of it though. Needed a little insurance to help guide destiny along the right path."

His hand leaves your hair, and he reaches down into the darkness. Then, just in front of your eyes, he holds a key.

It was him.

He's the reason you're here. He orchestrated it, playing puppet master to your trial. He knew you'd waste your battery searching for the last key. He knew you'd have to go into the darkness, into his world, desperate to find the last puzzle piece. It all played out exactly as he planned.

You know it's useless, but you reach for the key anyway. As expected, he pulls it away.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast," he scolds, the grin evident in his voice. "This is the only way you're getting out of here, isn't it? Can't kill the snitch if you can't get to that last chamber. I'm sure that big nasty F grade would look hideous on your record, wouldn't it? I see how hard you work around here. I see how much you want to impress those white coats. I see everything." He taps the key against the edge of his goggles, the clacking sound loud in the silence of the room. "So, what's it worth to you?"

Your mouth hangs open, but no words come out. You can't even try to form a sentence, your mind a mess of confusion, frustration, fear, curiosity. Why would he go to those lengths, risk whatever repercussions he might face for tampering with a trial, just to get hold of you?

"Speechless, hm? I felt the same way the first time I saw you. You glowed so much brighter than the rest."

You're still trembling as his hand disappears, and with it your chance at escape. He presumably tucks the key away somewhere, its resting place far out of your limited vision as he presses his hips against you once again, harsher this time, almost needily. Your chest rises and falls quickly with each shallow, panicked breath - just like the little mouse he likes to remind you you are, locked in the talons of the great bird of prey. His long fingers release your jaw, and he tilts his head to one side as heleans in to press his lips against yours.

The feeling is surreal, the scarred skin of his lips jagged against your own, the heat of him unexpected, the aggression of his kiss less so. You can't pull away, head already pushed back against the desk, but you don't even try. You just lay there, mind racing, eyes drifting shut as you feel yourself becoming completely overwhelmed. The hand that had been gripping your jaw now wanders down your body, tugging the fabric of your shirt out from where it's been tucked inside your waistband. His hand feels gargantuan as it slides beneath the material, long fingers sliding up neglected skin, the coarse digits tracing up the curve of your waist as he explores you. He hums into your mouth as his fingertips graze against the plush of your breast.

"So soft," he whispers as he breaks away from the kiss, his breaths noticeably heavier now. "Softer than I could've imagined. Only soft thing in this entire God-forsaken place."

He kisses you again, more desperately this time, and you kiss him back. You're not sure why, but you're body responds without your command. You feel yourself strangely relaxing a little at his touch, his hands much gentler than his lips, and his palm slides over your breast, kneading at the pillowy flesh as he groans against you.

You feel torn. This should repulse you, and under any other circumstances it surely would. Maybe it's the cover of darkness, or your own primal urges acting independent of your conscious mind - even with a gun to your head, you're not sure you could answer the questions running through your head. So you bring your hands to his shoulders to push him back slightly and, to your surprise, he instantly pulls back.

"Why?"

While you can't see his expression, he seems caught off guard. The bitter aggression you're so familiar with seems to have thawed out into something more... human?

"Why are you doing this?" You press on, urged by something tangled in your chest that makes your heart feel like it might burst. "I don't even know what you're risking here, but... there's got to be something, right? Interfering with the trial, falling out of line... Why? What's all this worth to you?"

As his hand continues to caress your breast, his other hand comes back to your face, cupping your cheek. It's tender, and it seems to challenge everything you thought you knew about the man.

"I've been watching you, little mouse. The way you move, the sound of your voice, the determination on your face... I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. And I never think about any of you. Bunch of fucking cockroaches running around, begging to get squished. But you..." He pauses, thumb stroking your cheek as he thinks. "Last time, I came close, but you ran. If it were anyone else it would have excited me, made me furious, made me want to spill some blood. But it just made me hungry."

The air is systematically knocked out of you with each sentence. It stirs something inside of you, a feeling you can't quite describe. You barely think before you speak, your chest tight as you look up at those glowing lenses, imagining the eyes trapped behind them.

"Are you lonely here?"

He scoffs, giving your breast a firm squeeze that makes you gasp. "More lonely than you could ever imagine, little mouse."

He pushes your head to the side, pressing kisses along your neck and his fingers stroke at your nipple, gently squeezing it as it firms up at his touch. Goosebumps bloom across your skin, little hums escaping your lips as he touches you over and over. His kisses are clumsy, the bulky night vision goggles bumping against the table as he nips as the sensitive skin of your neck, and his hips jerk against yours involuntarily.

Your eyes flutter shut again as the friction begins to ignite a spark in your belly. It's been so long, too long, since anyone touched you like this either. Strangely, you feel special, a fucked up kind of flattery nipping at your ego. You'd be lying if the words weren't getting to you, that pet name sounding almost comforting, his relentless ministrations untangling any sense of restraint you were holding onto.

You take a deep breath.

"Make me feel good."

He freezes, as though he doesn't believe his ears.

"Take me away from here."

The words instantly spur him on, your acceptance of his advances seemingly flicking a switch inside of him, and his movements become more hurried, more passionate. The warmth in your belly only grows as his hand pulls away from your breast to start tugging at your waistband. You help him, sitting up a little to start undoing your belt as he stands up straight between your legs, towering over you. You blindly fumble with the buckle, releasing the garment as he keeps his gaze trained on you alone.

"Beautiful," he sighs, and there's hunger in his tone that sends shivers through you. He pulls you into a kiss, hooking a finger under your chin as he leans down to you meet your lips. Then, he breaks away, nudging your shoulder so that you lay back down on the desk. "Just relax, little mouse. Let me take care of you."

His hand slips under the fabric of your pants before pulling at the gusset of your underwear. He moves it aside, and a small noise of surprise leaves his lips as a thick, long singer slides between your folds.

"Didn't think you'd be wet for me," he hums, and your cheeks burn in an instant. "Seems you need this just as much as I do, hm?" You nod uselessly, a hand reaching up to cover your face as his finger glides over your clit, making you moan softly. "Let me see your face."

It's easy to forget that, despite your own blindness, he can still see everything. Every time your brows draw together, the way your lips part each time you gasp, the way your chest rises and falls. You feel a sudden pang of self-consciousness, but it's easily forgotten when his finger pushes inside of you. It feels huge, your body tensing around the intrusion as he pushes in.

"So small," he whispers, his other hand resting on the desk just beside your head. "Such a delicate little thing... can barely even fit."

You whine as he begins to slide his finger in and out, your arousal making it easier, but the stretch still undeniable. He leans in close, his lips pressing against yours once again, and it muffles your cry as he curls his finger inside of you.

"I know, little mouse," he whispers against your lips. "But we need to stay quiet, can't let anyone find us like this, can we?"

You give him a weak nod as he continues to stroke against that soft inner wall, biting your lip as you try to stifle the moan that's fighting for freedom. He kisses you again, before bringing another finger to your entrance. As he starts to push it inside, you slap your hand over your mouth to hold back the cry.

"You can take it, can't you?" He coos in your ear pressing a kiss against your neck. "My brave girl, my shiny little mouse, I know you can take it."

It burns just enough to be a little uncomfortable, and you try your best to relax your muscles to allow him inside, unable to help the way your walls desperately squeeze against him. You uncover your mouth, sucking in a deep breath as he continues. "Hurts- hurts a bit," you gasp, and he slows slightly.

"Mm, it's tight," he nods, kissing your neck again before pulling back to look at you. "But you just keep sucking me in, don't you? A little pain's never stopped you from getting what you want though, has it?"

He strokes his hand over the stitches on your arm as if to punctuate the comment before curling both fingers deep inside of you, and it makes your back arch off of the desk. He hums in approval before sliding his thumb against your clit, starting to slowly push both fingers in and out. You clamp your hands over your mouth to muffle a moan that would otherwise have been loud enough for the entire trial area to hear.

He strokes his thumb back and forth over your sensitive spot as he quickens the pace of his fingers, and you're shamelessly writhing under his touch. He brings his other hand down to pull your shirt up, the fabric bunching up beneath your E.S.O.P. as he reaches underneath it, kneading at your breast again.

It feels like your heart might just stop. You can feel it approaching, the sensation of your building climax unmistakable as you fall apart beneath him. You'd almost forgotten how it felt to be with anyone, nights spent pleasuring yourself with the cold, lifeless sex toys in your sleep room cell never coming close to the warmth of a lover. And even here, in the darkness of this shabby office, at the hands of someone whose role was always to be your enemy - you can't imagine anything coming close to this feeling again.

With his lips pressed to yours, long fingers buried deep inside you, a huge hand gripping your breast, you come undone.

Despite the darkness, you're seeing stars. He kisses you over and over as you come for him, your body trembling beneath him as he soothes you through your release. Little aftershocks, shaky breath, emptiness as he pulls his fingers out of you. Your mouth is open, but there are no words.

There's a beat of quiet, just the sound of your shaky breath filling the air, before he speaks.

"Come back to me," he says softly, and it almost sounds like a question. His hand returns to your hair, stroking it gently. "Need you to keep coming back."

You open your eyes to meet his, the circles of greenish-black glow watching you carefully, like you might just vanish if he looks away for even a moment.

"That'll be all for now, little mouse," he continues, almost matter of fact, like he's ripping off the bandage. "Can't to push you too far."

"But... what about you?" You ask softly, voice hoarse and quiet as you rest your hand against his chest.

You can almost make out a small smile in the darkness. "I'll take care of myself. Next time... well, maybe we can work you up to it. Need to be careful with my little mouse. Don't want to break you."

You sit up, body still shaky as you hold onto him. He tugs down your shirt before pulling you against him, just holding you for a moment as you breathe into his chest. Then, he reaches to his side, pulling back slightly and presenting you with that coveted final key. You'd almost forgotten about it.

"They'll be waiting for you," he says softly, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze as you almost reluctantly take the key, accepting that you'll be going your separate ways for now. "And so will I."

[smack-barm-pey-wet]

I was very inspired by @jenderenvy985

[figsnpassionfruits]

Unexpected Tendencies

a/n: this basically happened w/ my bf so I had to turn it into a fic nsdjnsjk word count: 1k tags: logan howlett x fem!reader (can be read as gn!), smutty smut smut warnings: basically just bathroom sex, rough sex ig, daddy kink, implied age gap, praise kink, degradation, everything my heart longs for, 18+, mdni dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

Your fingers scratched on the oval mirror in front of you, desperate to get some sort of hold for some balance. There was no feeling in your hips anymore, the ramming against the edge of the sink now irrelevant. All you could think about was the man behind you, who had you bend over, both hands under your jaw, holding onto you like it was the only thing he was made to do.

The sounds in the bathroom consisted of the echoes of your skins clashing together, decorated with panting and moaning and the occasional filth coming out of Logan’s mouth here and there.

You? Yea, you were too fucked to even think about blurting anything that made sense.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You moan out, each one of the words matching the brutal pace Logan had on you. A hand of yours reached to get a grip on his wrist, your nails digging into his rough skin to cope with the pain that felt so good.

All Logan did as a response was release a chuckle, the speed and force of his thrusts remaining the same. “Getting fucked so well you can’t even speak huh, princess?” He mocked, grunting out the words as he travelled a hand of his to where your lower back meets your ass, clutching the skin as if it was the only thing worth holding on to in life.

You knew it would leave bruises; gosh you hoped it would leave bruises. Logan leaving his marks all over you, showing the world that you were his; yes. That was what you wanted. And that was exactly what you were getting.

The heels you decided to wear were starting to give in now. A foot of yours slipped further out, forcing Logan to squat a bit to adjust to the lowered height. The change of angle forced out a high-pitched moan out of you, his cock now hitting a spot that had yet been untouched tonight.

Out of sudden Logan stopped his thrusts, snickering at the whiny noises you were making, and replaced his rough pace with soft rolls of his hips. “Relax.” He purred into your ear, his hairy chest now leaning on your back, the texture of the sweaty hair tickling your skin. “Tell me what you want, love.” Logan breathed, pressing your leg that had moved back closer to the other.

“Please.” You whined, not knowing what you were asking for yourself. All you could do was reach your palm behind you to caress his face, silently begging him to do anything; just something.

Logan hummed at your gesture, finding it amusing. He turned his face into your hand, placing a single kiss there. “Gotta tell me what ya want.”

“Lo…”

“Hm?” He kept his hips rolling in the same motion as before, clearly enjoying the way you were struggling to form words. When there still was no answer from you, except for more panting, he moved his hand back to your face, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before tracing a finger around your lips.

Without thinking you opened your mouth slightly, allowing his finger in. Immediately your lips wrapped around his thick finger, sucking on the skin of the older man.

“Look at ya.” Logan mumbled, admiring your motions in the mirror, looking into your eyes through it. “Such a good girl. Can’t even talk but smart enough to do as she’s told.”

Moaning at his words you arched your back even further, urging him to get back to fucking you the way you wanted.

He picked up on your needs, let out another low chuckle, and stood up straight, both of his hands now resting on your ass as he pounded into you. Your moans now louder than ever, your eyes rolling back as far as possible, Logan was satisfied. This is exactly what he wanted to give to you; exactly what he thought you deserved. A proper fuck just for his girl.

“Fuck, fuck!” You moan out, hands now gripping the sides of the sink, the cold marble creating a contrast to your burning hot body temperature.

“You love this cock, don’t you?” Logan bragged, knowing exactly what kind of an effect he had on you. With a harsh flick of his wrist, he delivered a spank to your ass, gripping the exact spot he just hit. “Tell me you do.”

“Yes, fuck, I love it, daddy.” You moaned out, eyes widening at the realization of what you just said. Did I really just say that?

His hips faltered at your words, an eyebrow of him raising as a response to your words. “Did you just call me ‘daddy’?” Logan asked, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

You made eye contact with him through the mirror once again. This had never happened before. You had never called him that, nor have you ever had a conversation of where you talked about what you were into where this kink was mentioned. It had just slipped out. Given by his reaction, you did not know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. After letting a moment pass, you hesitantly gave him a small nod, biting your bottom lip in anticipation for his reaction.

But all Logan did was let out a breathy laugh, speeding up the snaps of his hips once again.  

Thank fuck.

“You're adorable.” He mocked once again, taking in the view he had in front of him. “Be good and tell daddy how much you love his cock, won’t ya?”

🍯

[ffunny-boness]

For Iggygiraffe (prompt number 163) Nothing says pining more to me than breaking the law for the boy you like. They’re so pathetic, I love them both <3

@marauderswithpalestineproject

[lorastyrels]

Core Four ✨🔎 (dtiys challenege by anaart-stuff)

[little-pup-pip]

heyyy can u do a sweet and colorful for a 5-7 year old autistic boy little ?? With sprinkles and funfetti if u can!!

Sure!!

[ane-doodles]

DTIYS TIME BABY!!

Taking the opportunity to draw @sircarrieart's lamb!!!

I got carried away and ended up changing the composition and using a bunch of new brushes while coloring, but I think it turned out great. I'll probably end up drawing him again in the future yeyeyeyeye...

Congrats on +200 followers!!

[moonstonemoonlight]

Happy Secret Santa @old-desert !!! Have a great New Year! 🎉

[autophobiastar]

I’m SUPER tired right now but I wore my 3rd life Grian cosplay to a convention for the first time today and went to a MYCT meetup, and it might have been my favorite experience at a convention ever. Like , everyone was so friendly??? We were all making references at each other??? People were genuinely interested in my cosplay and were asking me questions about how I made my wings??? Everyone was hypeing each other up???? A scar cosplayer sent us on quests to earn dice??? Thats the most fun Ive ever had??? Sorry If this post is messy I’m just about to pass out lol.

ALSO have this photo of my grian cosplay because I’m very proud of myself.

[sumju]

Art Collab W/ @lexazelys 🥰🌸

you can also follow them on X

[liveontelevision]

The long-awaited final tier! (SFW version of course) You hit the goals for this post so fast.. Thanks for the support, you sickos! He's giving you his all tonight!

[menaciingly]

for a professional con artist, he couldn't con fiddleford, could he?

i just think it's important that people understand fiddleford knows ford better than that, and would clock stan INSTANTLY. like it wouldn't even be close.

[ladyofmelk]

Karamazov Trial Dashboard Simulator

⚱️ nameinajar Follow

dni if you defend dmitri karamazov he's literally suspected of parricide and elder abuse

🎩 mityussy Follow

maybe that's why i like him

⚱️ nameinajar Follow

you're literally so immature. even if he wasn't a murderer he's still a violent threat to the community and you're all acting like he's your toxic book boyfriend of smth. if I have to hear that he's got a great rack another time I'm gonna start reporting people.

�� master-of-none Follow

hey op not to be rude but this is what you sound like

3859 notes

🌙 moonyverse Follow

#istg if this poll ends up in history books

245 notes

🦢 living-vicariously Follow

if mitya ends up in jail im consoling his gf

#agrafena svetlova please be sapphic

46 notes

🎠 liselottw Follow

all you "rpf is immoral" mfs have been really quiet since alyosha karamazov was on the news

8.759 notes

🧅 onion-queen Follow

that one annoying witness at the karamazov trial that's just gotta go. god please take her. she's ready.

🧅 onion-queen Follow

THAT ONE WITNESS THAT JUST BE FUCKING TALKING

🧅 onion-queen Follow

lord please take mitya karamazov's suffering and put it on that witness

1.589 notes

👁 the-eyewitness Follow

Recently my asks have been flooded with people asking for my take on the Karamazov trial. An in-depth explanation would require a long meta that I am not in the conditions to write as of right now, so to put it short: sometimes we just have to let old people die.

🧄 m-rakitin-author Follow

I think I know the culprit

👁 the-eyewitness Follow

your receding hairline has been on national television enough times for everyone to see your brain might be damaged by uv radiations

6378 notes

[flowercrown-bard]

[cogentsummoner]

33 for the kiss prompt! 🥰

33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

Toshinori's still half asleep when he trudges into the kitchen of the teacher dorms. It's early- the two of you are the earliest birds of the UA staff, and often end up watching the sunrise together. It's one of Toshinori's favorite parts of the day, and something he always looks forward to.

He'd had a sweet dream, though he can't remember much about it. Still, it leaves him buzzing with affection and warmth as he spots you and quietly calls out your name, sleepy smile on his face.

"Good morning, Toshi," you reply happily. You're cooking breakfast at the stove, and he can already see that you've set out two sets of dishes. "Did you sleep w-"

He cuts you off by gently tilting your head up, and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your mouth. It's quick, and chaste, but unmistakably loving and affectionate. It's a good morning kiss.

It's only after he turns to fish the milk out of the fridge that he remembers: the two of you aren't together.

Oh. Oh, that's right. The dream had been- it'd been-

It'd been about you. Scenes of charming domesticity, a togetherness and peace that Toshi had never really known. It'd felt so real, he hadn't realized that... it wasn't.

The milk slips out of his hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" he's repeating his apologies over and over as the two of you scramble with paper towels to mop up the mess. "I'm sorry, I-I'll get the mop, I'm so sorry, that was so inappropriate of me-"

"Toshi!" you say, cutting through his anxious rambling. "One thing at a time, go get the mop."

Once the milk has been mopped up, the two of you sit at the kitchen table together, eating your slightly burnt eggs. Toshinori wishes he were just about anywhere else at the moment- anywhere except here, about to have this conversation with you.

"Did you kiss me because you have feelings for me?" you ask, cutting straight to the heart of the matter as always.

What is he supposed to say? Yes, I've been madly in love with you for months, thank you for noticing? I've been pining after you for so long but I couldn't possibly confess now, now that I've lost even the embers of One for All- now that I'm just Yagi Toshinori?

No. No, he couldn't possibly say any of that.

"I... I had a dream," he says instead. "It... was about us. We were... together- not in a sexual way! We were just- together. And when I woke up, I didn't realize..."

You stare at him for a long moment, and Toshi can feel sweat start to gather on his palms.

"That's not what I asked," you reply bluntly, and he flinches. Of course you'd see right through his sidestep of the question. "Do you want to be together?"

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

"Toshi," you continue, voice notably softer. "Please just be honest with me."

There's only one answer he can give. "Yes," he whispers, terrified. "Yes, I do."

"Good," you say, scooching your chair closer to his, and gently guiding his face to look at you, before you kiss him soundly on the lips.

prompt list / accepting

[finleycannotdraw]

IF YOU HAVENT READ THE HOW FAMILIAR THE DANGER SERIES (by LiterallyThePresident on ao3), WHY NOT

this isn’t from a specific scene. I was just aiming for the vibe of these two from this au because I’m absolutely obsessed with it and the characterization of Ballister especially will not leave my brain.

Ballister’s hairstyle inspired by this awesome art by @sefarlen :)