#all of this to say....... they hate this time of year and tend to be grumpier and more of a problem than usual until early january

[stelyost]

broken promises

I'm always grateful and humbled for those who are still interested and looking out for my work, characters, despite being fragmented + incomplete stories. It's something I never take for granted, especially given my wavering activity over the last decade. in recent years, I had loosely spoken about possible promises towards varied project commitments or releases (whether it was my comics, ESCkey, Division 0, or my UTAU voicebanks, or potential other things? I tend to not have the best memory of what I say, BUT I'm quite cognizant of the fact that I've promised things and did not follow up. )

At the time, those statements were said largely with the hope that they’d push me forward and finish things; because someone out there is waiting for it.

however, that largely backfired and transformed into empty promises. It is something I'm truly not proud of, because I want to be a man of my word, and I simply haven't been. Failing to do so has weighed on me and had made things worse.

Truth is, I barely had the capacity to create. I grappled with health issues for several years - not just physical, but my mental health was in far worse straits than I had even realized.

I was going through a massive, layered amount of burnout from a mix of work and the impact of several major life events, and I had no realization of the full extent of how bad it was until I truly healed from it. Extenuating life events have piled up like a massive intersection multi-car wreck, compounding more and more damage.

While I had rationally acknowledged that they deeply impacted me, I didn't allow myself the proper space to step away and take a hiatus, thinking I still had to "perform" and put myself out there for fans. I thought forcing myself to do my personal works would make me happy, but I wasn't happy.

I was truthfully hating most of the things I drew or made, and everything felt like a chore. I was always dragging my feet to create. The stuff I was able to put out over recent years was an uphill, excruciating battle. I was struggling within the process of my own work. I didn't genuinely like a lot of the stuff I was producing.

Over the past few years, I've put in a significant amount of work to recover, get various avenues of professional help/treatment, and rebuild myself.

I had a ton of personal realizations about myself that built up over time, and recently, significant creative revelations. Recently, (actually just last month) I also overcame a significant blockage of my own that had originally sucked all the joy out of drawing for me. After that, I actually now love to draw again. It feels effortless and light and fun now, like it was for me in the past.

I had not felt that in so long.

I’m in a better place now. A far better place. I’ve been working silently and diligently through things, and for the first time in a long, long time, I feel lighter, clear-headed, and above all else, genuinely happy. These words don't come lightly.

For anyone who happens to read this and still looks out for my work, I am very grateful for your support and interest, even when I faltered. I will far more be careful with the words I say, and hopefully, there will really be more content soon.

[fitpacs]

,

[byanyan]

ㅤperhaps unsurprisingly, byan doesn't like the holidays — christmas in particular, as it's the most prominent and unavoidable one, and the one they have more experiences with. not growing up consistently celebrating the holiday past the age of four, they don't have any real positive attachment to it, and having it shoved so violently in their face each year, being surrounded by kids in school who are always so excited about it... it's always felt quite alienating. it's a very lonely time of year when everyone and everything around you is going on and on about family and you haven't got one.

although most years the only thing they've had to look forward to is the christmas dinner that the group homes they've been in have tried to provide, they have had a few experiences of what a more traditional celebration is like through foster homes they were living in during that time of year. the first one, when they were five, was... actually pretty okay. it was just them and their foster family, and they still remember having fun playing board games and watching movies, and how good the food at dinner was. they even got a couple of gifts from their foster parents. ...it was only the second christmas that they weren't celebrating with their first family, and they remember crying when those gifts were handed to them. another was when they were ten, with a foster family they hadn't been with for more than a few months. there was a lot of extended family in the house, none of whom they knew, and it was an incredibly overwhelming few days, during which they felt very much out of place. they didn't feel like they belonged and ended up spending most of their time hiding in the bedrooms to avoid the awkward conversations people would try to start with them so they didn't feel so left out. at one point, they remember sneaking out to go buy themself a hot chocolate with a bit of money they stole out of their foster brother's piggy bank to cheer themself up and to have a bit of quiet. no one noticed they were gone, and they weren't sure whether they were glad or disappointed.

at best, the holidays are an annoying time of year highlighted only by the two week break they get from school, and at worst, it's a reminder of all the things they've never had or the things that have been torn from them. even the positive memories they have have been soured by the way the kindness and the families didn't last, making it near impossible to look back on any of it fondly.

[medicinemane]

The world is set on prescriptivism and... it doesn't jive with me

[kaijutegu]

Alligator Body Language and You, or: How To Know When An Alligator On Social Media is Being Stressed for Views

Alligators are wild animals. Despite the idiotic claims of animal abusers like Jay Brewer, they cannot be domesticated, which means they are always going to react on the same natural instincts they've had for millions of years. Habituated, yes. Tamed, yes. Trained, definitely. Crocodilians can form bonds with people- they're social and quite intelligent. They can solve problems, use tools, and they're actually quite playful. Alligators are also really good at communicating how they're feeling, but to somebody who doesn't spend much time around them, their body language can be a bit mystifying. And it doesn't help when social media influencers are saying shit like this:

That is not what a happy gator looks like.

That's a terrified, furious gator who isn't attacking because the ogre handling her has her in a chokehold. She's doing everything she can to express her displeasure, and he's lying about it because he knows his audience doesn't even know how to think critically about what he's doing. He knows that because his audience doesn't know anything about these animals, he can get away with it. This I think is why I hate him so much- he deliberately miseducates his audience. He knows what he's doing is factually inaccurate, he just doesn't care because attention means more to him than anything else in the world.

Let's change that! Here are two really important lessons for understanding alligator body language on social media.

Lesson 1: Alligators Don't Smile (in fact, most animals don't)

So what's going on in this video? Jay Brewer is aggressively choking his white alligator Coconut while scrubbing algae off of her with a toothbrush. And make no mistake, he is digging into the creature's throat while she is visibly distressed. He claims she's happy- but she's not. He is willfully misrepresenting what this animal is feeling. That's a problem, because people... well, we actually kind of suck at reading other species' body language. The reason for this is that we tend to overlay our own responses on their physical cues, and that's a problem. For example, let's look at an animal with a really similar face to ours, the chimpanzee. Check out Ama's toothy grin!

Wait, no. That's not a happy smile. That's a threat display. When a chimpanzee "smiles," it's either terrified and doing a fear grimace, or it's showing you its teeth because it intends on using them in your face.

How about a dog? Look at my smiling, happy puppy!

Oh wait no, this is a picture of Ryder when he was super overwhelmed by noise and people during a holiday party. He'd hopped up in my sister's lap to get away from stuff that was happening on the floor and was panting quite heavily. See the tension in the corners of his mouth and his eyes? A lot of the time when a dog "smiles," the smile isn't happy. It's stress! Why Animals Do The Thing has a nice writeup about that, but the point is, our body language is not the same as other species. And for reptiles, body language is wildly different.

For instance, look at these two alligators. Pretty cute, right? Look at 'em, they're posing for a Christmas card or something! How do you think they're feeling?

Well, I'll tell you how the normal one is feeling. He's annoyed! Why is he annoyed? Because the albino just rolled up, pushed another gator off the platform, and is trying to push this guy, too. I know this because I actually saw it happen. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. He's not gaping all the way, but he was hissing- you can actually see him getting annoyed in the sequence I took right before this shot. Look at him in this first shot here- he's just relaxing, and you can see he isn't gaping even a little bit.

By the end, he's expressing displeasure, but not enough to actually do anything about it. He's annoyed, but he's comfy and that's where one of the best basking areas is, so he'll put up with it.

Reptiles open their mouths wide for a lot of reasons, but never because they are actively enjoying a sensation. Unless they're eating. No reptile smiles- they can't. They don't even have moveable lips. If a reptile is gaping, it's doing so because:

It is doing a threat display.

It is making certain vocalizations, all of which are threats. Alligators are one of the rare reptiles that do regularly vocalize, but most of their calls aren't made with a wide open mouth.

It is about to bite something delicious or somebody stupid. Check out this video- virtually all of the gaping here is anticipatory because these trained gators know darn well that the bowl is full of delicious snacks. (I have some issues with Florida's Wildest, but the man knows how to train a gator AND he is honest about explaining what they're doing and why, and all of his animals are healthy and well-cared for, and he doesn't put the public or his staff at risk- just himself.)

It's too hot and it has opened its mouth to vent some of that heat and thermoregulate. This is the main reason why alligators will often have their mouths part of the way open, but sometimes they'll open all the way for thermoregulation. This is what a thermoregulatory gape looks like- usually it's not all the way open, kinda more like < rather than V, but you can't say that 100% of the time. Additionally, a thermoregulatory gape... typically happens when it's hot out. If they're inside, maybe they've been under their basking light for too long. Heat's the dominant factor, is what I'm getting at.

There is another reason that a captive crocodilian might be gaping, and that's because it's doing so on command. Some places have their gators trained to gape on cue, like St. Augustine Alligator Farm and other good zoos. They have the animals do this in presentations that are genuinely educational. They ask the animals to open their mouths so that they can show off their teeth and demonstrate how their tongues seal off the back of their mouth. They'll also do it as part of routine healthcare, because looking at their teeth is important.

In this case, the animals aren't gaping because they're stressed, they're gaping because they know they're gonna get a piece of chicken or fish if they do it. And what's more, they're doing it on cue. They have a specific command or signal that tells them to open wide. It's not an instinctive response to a situation. It's trained. If the animal provides the behavior after a cue, the situation is much less likely to be negatively impactful.

It's also important to remember that there's a difference between a partially open mouth and a gape! As discussed above, alligators will often have their mouths a little bit open just to maintain temperature homeostasis. It helps them stay comfy, temperature-wise. These guys are all doing thermoregulatory open-mouthed behavior- that slight open and relaxed body posture is a dead giveaway. (That and it's the hottest spot in the enclosure.)

Lesson 2: A Happy Gator Is A Chill Gator

So if alligators don't smile or have facial expressions other than the :V that typically signifies distress, how else can you tell how they're feeling? One way is stillness. See, alligators subscribe to the philosophy of if it sucks... hit da bricks.

Basically, if they hate it, they'll leave. Unless, y'know, somebody has their meaty claws digging into their throat or is otherwise restraining them. (Restraint isn't always bad, btw. Sometimes the animal is going through a medical thing or needs to be restrained for their safety- which a responsible educator will explain.)

Let's look at a very similar scenario, in which a captive alligator is getting his back scrubbed.

As you can see, it's quite different. First, he's not being restrained at all. Second, look at how relaxed he is! He's just chilling there vibing! He could simply get up and leave if he wanted to, because he's not being held. Towards the end of the video, as he lifts his head, you can see that his respiratory rate is very even as his throat flutters a bit. I'm not sure what this facility is, so I can't comment on care/general ethics, but like. In this specific case, this is an alligator enjoying being scrubbed! And you can tell because he's not doing anything. A happy gator is content to be doing what they're doing.

Why Should I Listen To You?

Now, you should ask yourself, why should you listen to me? Why should you trust me, who does not own an alligator, versus Jay Brewer, who owns several?

Well, first off, there's no profit for me in telling you that what you're seeing on social media is in fact not what you're being told you're seeing. I'm not getting paid to do this. That's the thing with people who make social media content. The big names aren't doing it just for fun. They're doing it for money. Whether that's profit through partnerships or sponsorships, or getting more people to visit their facilities, or ad revenue, you can't ignore the factor of money. And this is NOT a bad thing, because it allows educators to do what they're passionate about! People deserve to be paid for the work that they do!

But the problem starts when you chase the algorithm instead of actually educating. A "smiling" alligator gets the views, and if people don't know enough to know better, it keeps getting the views. People love unconventional animal stories and they want those animals to be happy- but the inability to even know where to start with critically evaluating these posts really hinders the ability to spread real information. Like, this post will probably get a couple hundred notes, but that video of Coconut being scrubbed had almost 400,000 likes when I took that screenshot. Think about how many eyeballs that's reached by now. What I'm saying here is that it's just... really important to think critically about who you're getting your information from. What do dissenters say in the comments? What do other professionals say? You won't find a single herpetologist that has anything good to say about Prehistoric Pets, I can tell you that right now.

Another reason you can trust me is that my sources are not "just trust me bro," or "years of experience pretending my pet shop where animals come to die is a real zoo." Instead, here are my primary sources for my information on alligator behavior:

Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations- Vladimir Dinets

The Secret Social Lives of Reptiles- J. Sean Doody, Vladimir Dinets, Gordon M. Burghardt

Social Behavior Deficiencies in Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Z Walsh, H Olson, M Clendening, A Rycyk

Social Displays of the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis)- Kent Vliet

Social Signals and Behaviors of Adult Alligators and Crocodiles- Leslie Garrick, Jeffery Lang

Never smile at a crocodile: Gaping behaviour in the Nile crocodile at Ndumo Game Reserve, South Africa- Cormac Price, Mohamed Ezat, Céline Hanzen, Colleen Downs (this one's Nile crocs, not American alligators, but it's really useful for modeling an understanding of gape behaviors and proximity)

Thermoregulatory Behavior of Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Cheryl S. Asa, Gary D. London, Ronald R. Goellner, Norman Haskell, Glenn Roberts, Crispen Wilson

Unprovoked Mouth Gaping Behavior in Extant Crocodylia- Noah J. Carl, Heather A. Stewart, Jenny S. Paul

Thank you for reading! Here's a very happy wild alligator from Sanibel for your trouble.

[mostly-imagines]

You knew Damian would take his time adjusting to your presence. Of course he would. He’s even slower to warm up than Jason, you knew it before you’d even met him. So you’d had no idea you were even within a five year shot of him even liking you, let alone trusting you.

In spite of it nearing one in the morning, you laid atop your bed covers, watching your shows with passing interest. You’re waiting up for Jason like you usually do, you have a hard time sleeping not knowing if he’s okay or not. He hates it when you do, he says just because he has to be up all night doesn’t mean you do. Unfortunately for him, you’re nothing if not stubborn.

A clatter from the living room has you perking up—Jason’s back. It’s a little early for him to be home already though, and he’s not usually so loud upon re entry unless he’s hurt.

You stand quickly, tossing the book aside, and mentally prepare yourself to tend to injuries.

You open the door to the dark room, the only light available coming from the dim lamp in the kitchen and the moonlight through the open window.

It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, scanning the room only to find a figure much, much smaller than expected.

“Damian?”

He looks at you through the darkness, silent. You approach him slowly.

“Hey. Are you hurt?” You ask, getting a bit concerned. Of all Jason’s brothers, Damian is the least likely to drop in, especially unharmed.

“No.” Damian’s always standoff-ish, but he’s exhibiting a particularly strange energy right now. You wonder if he needs something Jason could help with.

“Jason’s not here,” you tell him, watching him closely for any sign of what’s going on.

“I know.” His words are short, measured.

If he knows, that means he was with him tonight. Then why would he come here?

“Is everything okay?”

He says nothing. His gaze is lasered onto a panel of wood among the floorboards, jaw clenched.

You tilt your head. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

He hesitates to answer but it seems like he does want to stay. You don’t know Damian anywhere near as well as Jason does, but you can’t imagine he’s ever seen or shown much vulnerability before.

He seems to decide on biting the bullet and nodding, yes. You make your way around the couch and sit down, looking to him.

Slowly, he does the same, in absolute silence. He sits stiff. His shoulders are hunched up and his body is tightly pressed into the smallest space possible. The way his posture curls in on him makes him look even tinier.

You’ve never seen him anywhere close to upset before, not like this. Most of the time you see him he’s an angry upset, but this…it’s a sad upset. Almost scared.

You fold your legs onto the couch, pulling a blanket off from the ledge behind you. You drape it over Damians shoulders, enveloping him in warmth to contrast the icy bite of the night. He remains still.

You slowly move your hand up to his hair, treading carefully. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, though he makes no moves to stop you. You take that as the closest to a blessing you’re going to get from him, so you continue on.

You brush his hair back lightly, fingers threading through his hair with a loving gentleness.

“Damian,” You whisper.

He doesn’t look at you. Even in the dark, you can see his breathing labored and his eyes starting to well over.

You turn to face him and shift a little closer, taking his hand in yours. His chin lowers and his stare hardens, trying desperately not to cry.

You bring your free hand to the far side of his head, gently nudging him your way. He folds immediately, turning to you and throwing himself into your chest, tears flowing violently.

He struggles to breathe right, choking on his sobs as he hugs you tight. You hold his head against you, stroking his hair as he weeps.

You hold him like that for almost half an hour, allowing him as much time to cry as he needs.

He ends up curled up on your lap at an awkward angle, head resting on your thigh. The shaking of his body slows over time, his eyes fluttering shut from the ache of the tears. Not long after, his breathing levels out and his body completely relaxes into sleep.

You continue petting his head, mind wandering around to what could’ve happened. Jason had told you once that the only thing Damian seems to hold in high regard is Bruce, and his mood can easily sway Damian’s.

It’s almost three am when Jason slides in through the window, landing gracefully into a kneel. He tugs off his helmet before looking up and noticing you on the couch.

A split second of a smile before he glances down and sees Damian asleep on your lap, his arms still wrapped around your waist. His mouth drops and his brows furrows as he stands, examining his brother.

“What the hell?” He says quietly, looking back up to you.

You shake your head and shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know. Did something happen on patrol?”

Jason’s eyes drift down to Damian again. “I mean Bruce kind of yelled at him, so.”

“That’ll do it.”

He nods, coming to sit on the opposite side of the couch, careful not to wake him. He observes his brother's vice grip around your middle and your much more gentle hold around his.

“He let you hug him?”

“He hugged me.”

“He what?”

[weirdsociology]

hey writers we have to talk.

if you've read any romance or fanfic in the past twenty years (i know you have), you know that there are a certain number of scents associated with hot dudes. you can probably recite the list of Things Men in Fic smell like in your sleep: leather, black pepper, pine, sandalwood, "something uniquely him", clean sweat, and if the character has ever fucking been within 50 yards of a firearm, something called "cordite".

here's the thing.

NO ONE SMELLS LIKE CORDITE.

cordite was a highly specific type of smokeless gunpowder developed in the 1890s by england specifically and used mostly in wwi.

if your good-smelling guy is not (a) english (b) using a very specific type of british rifle (c) dying in a trench in flanders, he does not smell like cordite. technically even if he does meet all those conditions he still doesn't smell like cordite because he smells like trenchfoot.

the point is, cordite is so far from universal that no one but the most hardcore gun nerds give a single shit about it. making your Sexy Hero smell like cordite is like naming a cassette-only bootleg live recording from the 1970s as your favorite grateful dead album. everyone at the party hates you immediately and knows you're doing it for clout. also, it's just factually... wrong. please stop. i know everyone else is doing it, but you can do the right thing here, i believe in you.

so what do people who are using guns smell like?

well if your story is set before the late 1880s, the smell of a fired gun is black powder, which, unfortunately, smells like seventeen flatulent cows have been shoved in a tire factory. trust me, you do not want your Hot Dude to smell like black powder. it's b a d.

if your story is set after the late 1880s, guns are using some variety of modern 'smokeless' powder - which speaking broadly doesn't really have a ton of scent when used. it does have some, but it's sort of non-descript: the best way i can describe it is the sweet, ozone, hot-plate smell of popping your car hood with a warm engine.

people who use guns a lot don't smell like fired guns all the time anyway, so while those scents might work in a fight scene, they're not realistic all the time. but there are some things that your Sexy Shootist will smell like basically 24/7 and that's metal and gun oil. metal you can go and sniff (i recommend non-stainless steel), but if you want a reference, most gun oils have a sharp, organic smell that's not dissimilar to canola oil but muskier and with a tang overtop. it's not unlikely leather is in the mix as well due to routine handling of leather equipment and gear. modern gear also tends to have a certain smell although it varies by production country and storage conditions - lots of opportunities there.

in conclusion: gunslingers and hired killers and military folks can be sexy and smell great on page, but i am begging you not to say "cordite" when you mean "gunpowder" ever again. we can do this. we are writers and therefore pedants. i believe in us!

[bravo666]

mdni • price x f!reader

captain price has a ritual and his men know better than to disturb. every time 141 gets back from an op and rumbles back to hereford, they unload, debrief, file the necessary reports and then some, all that dreary bureaucracy that needs to be done within the first couple hours of touching back onto english soil. and then, at the first opportunity, he fucks off. captain’s privilege, he says.

the others do too—on the town or to the bunks or to their own flats or wherever—but price never joins them. he has his own destination in mind and it’s a solo journey, so quit nosing about trying to find out, sergeant. he’s only ever gone for a few hours, six at the most, before he rolls on back to base, squares his shoulders, and throws himself back into work. at least he always seems a bit lighter when he comes back.

said destination is a pub not one, not two, but three villages over. the further from base, the less likely it is for him to run into one of his men, and he’d just hate it if that happened, would feel like a dog dragging mud in through the garden door, crossing his wires. he might not like it about himself, but john price is a greedy and selfish man, and the pretty little thing that’s been tending bar for the past few years is a morsel that he wants to keep all to himself, cradled in his jaw and savored.

the dingy pub is nondescript and uncreative, a local establishment that’s been around since anyone can remember and hadn’t changed a whit. price found the place back when he was first made captain and started looking for further out watering holes, looking for some peace and quiet away from the places where the recruits drank. he almost wrote the place off his lists of spots before he saw the flustered young bartender duck in for her shift.

since then, he’s been a regular—for a given value of ‘regular’, as much as a military man can be—ever since. started swapping conversation after the third or fourth visit. polite conversation turned friendly, then raucous with laughter, then warm and teasing.

that’s as far as he let’s it go, naturally. with a job like his, he’s married to his work; there’s no room, no time in his life for a sweet little wife, no matter what he dreams at night with his cock fisted in his grip or whose face he happens to see play the role. he tried the whole wife thing once, chased after it, even, and all price has to show for it is an alimony payment set to automatically go out every month.

(his ex-wife couldn’t handle him in the end. she was the type of woman who needed him at every hour to keep her love alive and couldn’t stomach the weeks alone while he was deployed, and even when price was home, she didn’t have an appetite to match his when he slipped himself off his leash. they both jumped into it without looking ahead. such is life.)

so he ignored the hungry need for a woman beside him, and even if he ever did go down that route again, it couldn’t be her. she’s young and bright and untouched by blood. playful flirting and occasional brushes of fingers hovered somewhere plausibly deniable as a service worker buttering up a favorite patron, or—and price only lets this thought loose for a moment before snatching it and shoving it down with a growl—a friend. he’s gone half the year anyway, or something like it. every time he comes, he carries the irrational, ugly fear that in she’s moved on, moved out, got a new job, left the country, got married—

when he shoulders through the door now, sawdust sticking to his boots, his girl’s—because that’s what she is, even if it’s only the sight of her that he lets himself claim and hoard—wiping down glasses behind the sill, the pub just about empty as all the old timers went home. his first thought is that she’s still there, thank god. his second’s that she’s changed up her hair. it looks good. price pointedly ignores the way the sight of her with her new hair and those pretty lips makes him chub up a little.

his girl’s eyes crinkle a little when she looks up toward the door. “john,” she says warmly, and before he’s even seated at his usual spot on the bar, she’s filling him up his favorite pint. “how are you doing, handsome? just got back from saving the world?”

a snarling, hungry, traitorous part of his brain tells him that his wife is being so good, keeping him fed and watered, and the only thing next on her wifely duties is to keep his balls drained. he tells it to go stuff itself.

“still working on it, sweetheart,” price says with a sip. maybe it was worth it, when she asked a while ago why he showed up so irregularly, to tell her that he was SAS, if only for the way she called it after. saving the world. that’d be nice.

this time, though, he notices something else that’s new besides the hairstyle, and it makes his beer taste like dust in his mouth. a glint in the light, on his girl’s left hand.

not really his girl anymore, is she?

price swallows down his mouthful and tries to quell the sudden heat that rises in his veins, a raging anger that feels, inexplicably, like he’s been stolen from. his molars clench together for dear life as he rearranges, tames, quiets himself. it was fine. it was fine! she’s just his bartender, is all. his friend. modern country and whatever, she could go meet whoever, get engaged to whoever, fuck whoever, and if she was happy, then—then price would have to be happy for her.

(she better be happy, he thinks. if whatever little boy she’s found isn’t making her feel like a bloody princess every god damn day then he doesn’t deserve the fingers he touches her with or the cock between his legs—)

this was good, even. with a ring on her finger, price’d always have a reminder that pretty girls didn’t owe him anything, don’t belong to him like a dog with a bone. kill the fantasy, keep his head on the missions. a better soldier. it’s that tightening thought that lets him calm himself enough to say “congratulations are in order, i assume?”

his gi—the—she furrows her brow in confusion, but she follows price’s gaze—how could she not, with him practically burning a hole in her finger with his stare—and laughs. “oh, that,” she says, easy as ever. “no, nothing’s happened.” she wiggles the ring off her finger and sliding it across the counter to price for his inspection.

under his touch, the tell is obvious: it’s plastic, cheap, almost gummy plastic. the faux diamond is cheap acrylic, only close to sparkling because she’s gone through and polished it up. it takes him a moment before he puts it together, but before he does, he briefly becomes so angry that he thinks he might actually kill a civilian for treating her this way.

“bought that online for five quid,” she keeps going. “just to stop some of the patrons from asking questions, or flirting, or, you know, trying to introduce me to their nephews and that kind of thing.”

a decoy ring. a dummy, a shield, something with no actual suitor attached to the other end. price is so relieved that he can feel every muscle in his aching body untense, and it pisses him off because he knows he shouldn’t care this much about his friend’s love life. “smart,” he says, his voice a bit thick before he clears it. “smart. though, you know, sweetheart, you could always try telling them you’re not interested.”

“please, john, you think i haven’t tried?” she shrugs. “no, most of them don’t listen without seeing a little proof that that seat is taken. always thought they could convince me otherwise. the ring shuts up most of them, and the few that still don’t get the hint, i end up having to tell them stories about ‘my husband’ before they piss off.”

the word husband coming from her mouth makes something rumble in price’s chest that’s becoming dangerously difficult to ignore. he tries a chuckle, tries to focus on the feeling of his beard bristling his own cheeks and not the way they would feel against hers, and tries to lighten the mood. “so, what, you just make up stories about this husband of yours? grand tales of romance?”

but she looks away, and—is his girl flustered? she picks up a rag in her hands and starts wiping idly at the counter, like she’s trying to avoid his eyes. “oh, you know,” she says. “i keep it simple. just enough to, er, get them to stop, and consistent, so they can’t pick holes. he’s—he’s in the military. leads a team.”

then, quietly, “he’s out there saving the world.”

the dog slips his leash.

when price finally leaves to make the long drive back to base, his shirt rumpled and his chin wet with slick, he keeps the plastic ring in his back pocket, not bothering to give it back. why would he? she doesn’t need it anymore, because he’s going to buy his girl the real diamonds that she deserves.

[bluerosefox]

Siblings Behavior

It's shenanigans time guys

So have this DpxDc idea.

So, the Justice League and the Light (OR villains in general) have two newish members, they've both been around for about a year and they're from the same plane of existence (a place called the Infinite Realms according to those who dabble in the occult)

And the two seem to have some serious beef with each other.

Wisp and Wrath are basicly feral cats hissing and hekles raised when they spot the other and their fights normally ends in draws. They're evenly matched and sometimes the two even fight to the point they are out of steam and just fist fight.

Needless to say everyone believes they totally hate each other and might one day kill (or end?) One of them.

So everything gets turned upside down when suddenly both factions of heros and villains are suddenly summoned to the Infinite Realms.

In a throne room.

In front of the Infinite King (or most commonly known as the Ghost King)

A King who looks very, very much like Wisp and Wrath (like yeah the two do sometimes look alike, like when they grin with sharp teeth and their hair color, but one has blue skin and red eyes for crying out loud!)

He's staring at them, glowing green eyes that seemed to just... know.

"Welcome to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." His voice echoing in the throne room and seemed to rattle them deeply, like a sudden chill in the early morning.

"I have summoned you all here for a single reason." He continued to say "Tell me..."

Here he paused, closed his eyes before leaning back on the chair then he smiled big and cheerfully asked.

"How are my kids doing in your world? Dan and Ellie aren't causing too much chaos in their wake are they? They tend to go a tiny bit overboard sometimes but what siblings don't when they rough house you know. Tell me everything."

[lufyuu]

,,The Verdict''

Dragon Judge x Criminal male reader

Tw/s: abuse of power, corruption, rough dom, somewhat dubcon (?), breeding, mating, claiming, mentions of getting reader pregnant, marking, double stuffing, brat taming-ish, mentions of blood (reader biting his own lip & scratching)

Goddamnit. God fucking damnit.

You could've gotten away with it if it weren't for the judge's sharp eyes in noticing you sprinting away from the scene of the crime. It wasn't as if you weren't trying to hide either— you were in the dark, how could he had even notice! Unfortunately, your days of being known as the mysterious serial killer are now over as you stand in court, face to face with the families of your victims. Fuck.

You turn to look at the infamous judge or lord, a title given by the public to him. He has been and is still shrouded in mystery. His intimidating gaze is a sufficent warning to make people look away and abandon any thought of discovering more about him. He is known to be a very neutral and cold judge. Having been around this exact courthouse for 20 years, he seems to have never aged, staying forever in his prime. With a face and body like his, who wouldn't want a taste? Unfortunately, the ones who did shoot their shots were rejected in the most humbling way possible. They wouldn't even disclose it due to embarrassment. How this man came to be is still a mystery to the public. Not even people who work close to him can discover his origins. He is the one whom citizens claim to possess abilities one couldn't explain. Due to all the reasons stated above, the people tend to believe in whatever he says. Whatever the judge says, goes around here.

And there he is, right before your very eyes with court ending very soon you can assume. His expression is as calm as can be. Even when a serial killer such as yourself stands infront of him. His demanding presence commanding everyone to pay attention as the trial proceeds. Honestly, you should've been thrown in jail at this point, you've admitted to the crime already, what is the point of this trial?

"Mr [L. Name], is it true you commited these acts of manslaughter?", he turns his head towards you, gazing into your soul almost. You look up at him, gazing back with uncaring and bored eyes, "yes", a simple and clear answer. The entire courtroom is silent, the air is tense. You can feel eyes burning into your back, the cries of your victims' relatives satisfy you enough for you to let a fleeting smile spread on your face, disgusting everyone and anyone who notices. "Before we conclude this trial, the court will hear from the victims' families. Please step forward now if you have anything you would like to say to the defendant.", as the judge says this, many, many people came to the stance to have a word or two. Despite all this, his gaze settled on you, never leaving your figure.

You look at the family member infront of you. The sister of the first victim you had took the life of. You can't be bothered to remember his name though. "You fucking monster, how could you even do that to anyone let alone MULTIPLE PEOPLE!?", her tears eventually caught up with her, hiccuping as she stutters on her next few words which you drown out with thoughts of what to have for your first meal in prison. Not a single bone in your body feels guilty for the crimes you have commited. For the pain you have caused your victims' families.

With nine of the ten family members having said what they wanted and you drowning them out, it was time for the last one. This particular guy you can recall, Jason Williams, the brother of the victim you had dated. In the middle of his heartbreaking speech, he came closer to you and slapped you real hard. Your whole head turned 45° degrees due to the impact on your cheek. You look back with a hand on your cheek, amused almost. "Couldn't even hold back, no wonder your sister hated you", your expression showed no remorse, almost mocking him in a sense, which tipped him off even more. Fortunately for you, before he could do anything more physical, the judge butted in on the whole 'fight'. "Order in the court!", his deep and commanding voice caught the attention of everyone in the vicinity. He continues his command, "Quin, please remove the parties involved and restore order in the courtroom", Quin, the bailiff, immediately goes to de-escalate the situation by asking Jason to step back and that justice would be served. With a final glare, Jason steps back, not wanting to look at you anymore.

With everything out of the way, you glance back at the judge who seems to still be looking at you. "We will take a break to allow all parties to collect themselves before the sentencing. Court will pick up where we left in 20 minutes." And with those words, the audience and prosecution walked out of the room, including you who was escorted out by several guards to a secure room to ensure you wouldn't escape.

The room itself is rather simple and basic. Nothing out of the ordinary really. An air vent, an ac, thick walls and a sofa. At least it's comfortable.

Just 5 minutes into your relaxing, you hear a knock on the door. You don't get up as it's pointless seeing how they've locked it from the outside. You merely open your eyes and await whoever's beyond the door to come in. The moment the door opens, you are surprised to see an important figure walk in. "Oh? Lord, uh...", you try to recall his name, but to no avail, you've never cared to remember names other than your own. "Liu Zihao", "huh?", you raise an eyebrow at the sudden sound, "my name", he looks down at your laying body. Something in you decided it's best for you to sit up instead of laying down. Getting up from your comfortable position, you cross your legs and arms. "So what are you here for? To cuss me out like all the others?", you ask, not even sparing him a glance, even yawning a bit and closing your eyes in hopes he'd go away soon. Without saying another word, he gets closer to you. When you reopen your eyes, he's right in front of you. You get a bit jumpy and try to throw a fist at him, which he catches with ease.

Your fingers are eventually intertwined with his as he presses down one hand on the cushion right next to you. Your expression is conflicted. Your fight or flight insticts have kicked in, yet you almost tremble at his presence. You don't know what it is about him that makes you almost tremble. "Hm", he lets out a hum of curiosity and lets go of your hand, turning his heels and walking out the simple room. Leaving you in the room all alone once more as the door lock clicked.

"What the fuck was that for", you ask to nobody in particular seeing as you're alone. You look at your palm which had touched his a moment ago, finding nothing out of the ordinary despite a strange sensation enveloping it earlier on. Not thinking much of it, you plop back to your lazy laying position you were in before and doze off for a few minutes before being roughly woken up and taken to court once more.

"Ahem, Court is back in session. We will now proceed with the final verdict.", judge Liu announces to everyone as they hold hands with one another, having hope that justice would be served and you'd finally be out of the streets where you could potentially spot another target. You are told to rise from your hard seat. "After careful consideration of the evidence and arguments presented to the court, I hereby declare that the defendant, Mr [Name] [L. Name], is found guilty of the charges brought against him.", with that sentencing, you weren't surprised at all. You admitted to everything, and there was sufficient proof once you pointed them out. But of course, Zihao still had to continue his obligatory speech. "The crimes you have committed warrant a punishment which has never been given to a criminal such as yourself ever before.", this got you intrigued. You were sure you'd face the death penalty or even life in prison, but now that the judge has said those words, your mind begins to race through countless possibilities.

"Therefore, [Name] [L. Name] shall be personally punished and re-educated under my direct supervision."

What.

What did he just say?

You could hear for a split second the audience behind you start to whisper amongst each other but those are drowned out by your thoughts of confusion and shock. What did he mean by that? What could he want to do with you? He's unpredictable. There'd be no way anyone would agree with him—

"Court is adjurned.", Zihao stands up, indicating the session has ended. He moves his attention to the bailiff, "please escort [Name] [L. Name] to my headquarters.", Quin nods in obedience as he strode towards your still shocked and confused state. "Do not resist.", he lets out a warning and takes you to the judge's headquarters. You can hear the audience and victims' families cheer as justice has been served. Your punishment shall be served by the one and only judge, making this all the more exciting. What judge Liu says, goes.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

All you remember is being escorted into a special carriage with black curtains. As the carriage carried on, you couldn't do anything, not even looking out the windows due to the curtains. Though, you did feel the road being very bumpy. It almost felt like hours before you finally arrive at the judge's headquarters.

When you first step through the doors, you take note of the high ceilings and extravagant interior. You walk further into the manor-like building, noticing even more details along the way. The walls seemed to have been carved as if this was once a victorian era castle. It looked very clean. upon closer inspection, you notice symbols of which you don't recognize. The shape resembled one of a dragon. You paid it no attention. When you turn to your left, your eyes lay on a pair of stairs which seemed as if they reached heavens due to the height of it. The railings are golden, if you squint a little, they had an effect which made it seem as if they're glowing.

You don't even notice the bailiff leaving until you heard the tall doors slam shut. You quickly look behind as it startled you. Why would he even leave you alone, that didnt make sense.

After a few moments of pondering whether to escape immediately or continue your exploration, you decide to ascend the almost never ending stairs to the top floor. There, you see that the top floor is a whole room itself. There are no doors to open, just an untouched bedroom which could honestly be called a treasure room at the same time. The amount of shiny things you could name were almost endless. Despite the whole thing looking a bit untouched, you could tell someone has taken care of it or at the very least, tried to. The desk and books are collecting dust but at least the sheets are clean. Taking another step forward, you examine the royalty-like room. There's a chandelier placed in the middle of the room. It hangs over you, something about it feel off. Maybe it's the fact it looks so much like a glowing purple bubble floating in the air. Maybe your eyesight's gotten worse? Though, you sure do notice the tall windows.

In your peripheral vision, you could see a box that caught your eye. You walk towards the box, which sits on top of the desk. Lifting it with your two hands, you blow off some of the dust. It wasn't locked, thankfully. You take a peak inside and see... a collar of some kind. A collar made out of what seems to be black leather with precious amethysts embedded into the leather itself, along with some chains drooping around it. You looked at it and thought about one thing. This thing could fetch you a pretty penny or two. Deciding on selling it the moment you get out of this fancy manor, you reach into the box and grab it using one hand. "That idiotic judge, leaving me all alone here", not only would he be blamed for letting a serial killer escape, but he would also lose a precious gem adorned collar. Within a blink of an eye, you felt something placing itself around your neck. Wait...where did the collar go!?

You panic and look in the mirror to see said collar somehow clasped on your neck. "Fuck fuck what is this shit!?", you start to cuss out of fear. You'd never been scared by anything but this....this is different. There must be some magic or paranormal activity for this to even happen. How did it teleport from your hand to your neck, that doesn't make sense!

You try to pry it off your neck but to no avail, it was tight around your neck. It wouldn't let go of you. Not now that you've accepted being its owner's mate. Your gut is screaming at you to get out of there as fast as possible. With the collar unable to be loose, you focus on escaping first. "Fuck", you try to break the windows to escape as you usually do but stop to think. You're very high above ground at this moment, if you jump off from this height, you'd end up dead or with broken bones which you don't feel like dealing with. The only decision you had left was to go back downstairs and to hopefully be able to escape through the entrance or a back door before Zihao arrives. Sprinting like your life depends on it, you finally arrive at the entrance of the manor. You push it but it doesn't budge. At that moment, you hear an "ahem" coming from behind you. Your whole body freezes, not daring to even look back. You recognize the voice as their footsteps get closer to you until you felt their chest press against your back. Their hands trailing your body. Their hands settling to grip your waist in place. "I see you've accepted my gift", you could even imagine the person to be smiling as they say this.

Their left hand grabs your chin to face them. You weren't surprised to see the judge. What shocked you was the fact he looked like a predator who just found its prey. His pupils looked like a..serpent's..? Not only that, you could see his eye color changing and glowing a bright purple. You try to pull your head back in order not to face his predatory gaze, but his hand stops you. He has a strong grip on your chin, preventing you from looking away. Even though your whole body is almost trembling with fear, you manage to ask, "w-what to do you...want...", he tilts his head a bit, as if he himself is confused. "You're now my mate, I can do whatever I please with you, can't I?", he states as if it's the most obvious thing ever, making you even more nervous. You try your best to stay calm, but how could you? Why did he even use the term 'mate'...

"What m-mate? I'm...nothing of the sorts, let go!", you thrash in his hold, trying your hardest and using all your strength to break free which eventually, you reach your goal. "F-fuck, crazy bastard!", your words spill out as you stumble back, trying to catch the breath you'd been unconsciously holding while in his strong grip. He only stared at you, you could see clearly now that he isn't human, there's no way he could be one. With the black to purple gradient horns ontop his head. Heck, you even see a long tail behind him. Your fight or flight immediately activated as you tried your best to get out of there. You've already established that 1. This man's grip is strong and that 2. He isn't human. There's no way you'd be able to beat him in a fight. You try to reach the front door. You're just a few inches away before he pulls you back to him, this time, your whole body is facing his. "Don't run", is all he says, you look at him as if he's said something crazy, "don't run?? Fuck you, let go of me right now", despite this man being easily 6'5 and intimidating as fuck, you manage to overcome your fear and speak your mind.

"I've finally found you after years of being in the mortal realm, stay with me, my mate", he says as he gently grabs your hand to touch his cheek. Whatever he said made you even more confused, is this all a dream? No way any of this is real. "What are you on..!?", you question but honestly didn't want to know the answer. All you want and nerd at this moment is to be able to escape his grasp as this time, it seems more secure. Without even answering, the serpent-like man whisked you up into his arms, carrying you as if you were light as feather. Even when you thrash on and on, it's as if he doesn't feel your weight at all.

Despite voicing out and even using action to show your unwillingness, he doesn't stop and continues to make the journey up the stairs with you in his arms. It doesn't take long until the both of you reach the top floor.

He proceeds to throw you on the bed as gently as someone could be. Before you could get up and even process what had happened, you're pinned down to the bed by Zihao. "Hey, hey Lord Liu–", just as you're about to protest once more, you're silenced by Zihao's lips shutting you up. At first, it was just smashing your lips together, but you knew Zihao wanted more than that. He tries to get you to slip up and open your mouth, but you don't let him. You try your best to keep your lips sealed. This proves to be even more difficult the moment his hand trails down your tummy and stops at your pants. With just a touch, your pants are suddenly discarded of along with your underwear. "Wh–", you made a mistake. The moment you had realized you accidentally left an opening for him, it was too late. His tongue slides itself into your open mouth. You have no way of closing it now. What's weird is that you could almost feel his tongue down your throat, "a-aufh!??!...", the sudden feeling shocks you yet you couldn't say anything about it so all you could think to do was try to push him off of you.

Using all your strength, you manage to push him off. It was weird seeing how you couldn't push him off earlier on. You wipe your lips, which had his saliva and your own drool still covering it. You couldn't deny that he's an amazing kisser and the way he explored your mouth did turn you on a bit but you're as scared as ever with him not being human and calling you his 'mate'. At this point, he's almost straddling you in a way. He licks his lips, and that was when you saw his long tongue. It's split in the very middle, making him look even more serpent-like. With his weight on you, you couldn't get up and sprint down the stairs and out the door like you wanted. Instead, you tried to talk him out of whatever he was about to do. "Judge Liu, why in the world would a judge want to do this with a criminal..!?", you catch your breath while you're trying to persuade him, well, more of asking now that you think about it. This obviously doesn't work. He's already decided on you as his. A simple question of why he's doing what he is right now is futile. "This is your sentencing, I'm merely carrying out my duty", after he says this, he loosens his tie and discards it on the ground next to the bed. "Having you in front of me is...exhilarating", his eyes are filled with so much lust and love while looking at your fearful figure pinned to the bed he's always wanted you to be on. "Consider this as discipline for the crimes you've commited", with just a snap of his fingers, your arms are suddenly bound above your head. When you take a look, you can see a seal of some kind hovering over your hands, preventing any movement.

With every touch of his on your skin, you felt pleasure even if you didn't want to admit to it. His hands trailing up and down your body, from your neck until your crotch. It was as if he's exploring his new treasure. "That is unless you desire the death penalty?", you shake your head as a 'no'. This definitely is better than the death penalty but you still have questions. One of them being what kind of nonsense was he even spouting? Some shit about being his 'mate' or whatnot. While infront of you, Zihao unzips his pants. "What the fuck!?", you couldn't believe what you were seeing and involuntary let out a scream of confusion as what you saw wasn't just a cock, he had two. "Hm?", he glances up at you once more, confused as to why you let out such a noise. You could only stare with your eyes wide open. As he followed your gaze, he noticed what you were staring at, "ah, it hadn't crossed my mind..you mortals aren't usually this size", though he wasn't wrong, you were talking about how he has two instead of one. "I meant you having two...", you refused to continue your sentence having already eluded to the fact he has two of which you and many others only have one of.. Fortunately, he already knows what you were trying to point out, "there shouldn't be an issue regarding them, you'll be able to take them fairly well without difficulty", this doesn't convince you, not at all. Looking at the length and width, you think you'll die if you try to fit both in you.

Fortunately for you, he didn't put it in immediately. He, at the very least, has the decency to prep you beforehand. As he was about to put two fingers in your mouth, you close it immediately. This ends up with his fingers on your lips instead. It's clear what he wants you to do but you refuse. "Open up", he demands. You aren't just going to let him put his fingers in your mouth. If you do, your ego wouldn't ever recover from it. You shook your head no as an answer seeing how you can't really open your mouth. His lips twitch ever so slightly. "You've been given mercy by me and yet you're still a brat?", he asks, eyes piercing yours. While that is technically true, you'd never thought this 'mercy' of his would get you into this kind of situation. Reluctantly, you open your mouth, leaving a small gap between your bottom and upper lip. It's big enough for him to shove both fingers into your mouth. He looks at you expectantly. You knew what he wanted so you slowly sucked and licked his fingers. His fingers eventually got deeper into your mouth, almost reaching your throat due to how long they are. You almost choke on them. His eyes scan your face, that adorable expression you're making is turning him on a bit more by the second. Before long, he removes his fingers from your mouth. Letting you catch your breath a bit.

Although, that didnt last long as he pressed his two fingers on your hole. "Don't take it that far! I'm a man—", God, how many times have you been interrupted by him? You can't remember and you simply don't want to. His long and slender fingers pushed their way into your tight hole while you could only close your eyes to avoid meeting his gaze. Of course just closing your eyes can't solve everything. You still felt this fingers push and twist inside of you in search of something in particular. You let out breathy and quiet moans until his fingers finally found what they were looking for. Your sweet spot. "Ahgh..!", a louder moan came out of your mouth as a response to the sudden pleasureful feeling. When you open your eyes, you could see Zihao look at you with hungry eyes. He continues to stretch your hole for the next 2 minutes. All the while you closed your eyes. "If this is already making you feel full, I fear my cock will be too much for you to handle", just then, he removes his fingers from your hole.

The sudden feeling of emptiness hits you so you open your eyes to look at what he's doing. Without warning, he takes one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder, leaving an easier access for him. Using his other hand, he places a firm grip on your waist, "h-hey now—", you couldn't say anything once had plunged one of his cocks inside of you. It wasn't even all the way yet but it had you arch your back, widen your eyes and mouth. You swore some tears even came out. "A-AaAgh..!", was the only noise you could let out. A mix of pleasure, pain and shock. Zihao lets out a groan of pleasure as he finally enters your hole. Though, he longed to be all the way in you and so he didn't waste anytime, thrusting all the way in this time. You let out a loud moan, almost like a scream of a moan. "Hah...you take me in so well", you couldn't even cover your face with your hands due to them being bound together. It's humiliating even if nobody's here to see. Having someone dominate you when you're a serial killer hurts your pride and ego. You look at him with a gaze which to you, conveys hatred yet pleasure. This only turns him on even more. "My mate...I've been craving for this", the second he finishes his sentence, he pulls up just until his tip is in before slamming his hips forward once more. Without anything to bite on to conceal your voice, you bite your lip until it starts to bleed. His thrusts get rougher and faster by the second. He groans and moans as he pounds your cute hole, all he wants is to fill you up with his seed. It's his natural instict afterall.

You were starting to manage the unexplainable feeling of his big cock stretching and pounding your hole when all of a sudden, he hits your sweet spot once more. Your voice might be raspy by tomorrow if you keep scream moaning all throughout tonight. You hoped it wouldn't last that long though. You wanted so badly to cling onto something or someone, to dig your fingerd into the sheets or Zihao's back but the seal prevented you. With the amount of stimulation you've been getting, you can feel yourself about to cum. You moan loudly once more as cum splurted out of your cock, coating your stomach with the fluid. This doesn't stop Zihao from thrusting in and out of you like there's no tomorrow. He's chasing his own climax.

Having just came, you're extra sensitive to his attacks. You could feel every inch of him enter. "Agh...take it all inside", Zihao groans as he can feel himself reach his limit after a few more minutes.

For the first time in the 7 minutes, he stops to catch his breath. You also take this opportunity to pant and try to grasp what had just happened. To your surprise, Zihao had broken off the seal that was bounding your two hands. You didn't have the strength to question it, you only put your hands back down, relaxing them as they had gotten quite sore.

Not even 3 minutes pass and you noticed something rubbing against your already filled hole. "W-what are you doing now..?", you question as you saw him bringing his second cock near your entrance, "you won't be able to conceive my kids with just one round", he's forcibly pushing his cock in your stuffed hole as he says this. You could only brace for impact as you gripped the bedsheets beside you. Not long after, you feel the head of his second cock pushing in. The pain is noticeable, you try to suppress it as best as you can to get through. Fortunately for you, his cocks have a sort of natural lube. Not only does it reduce the pain of the receiver, it also helps slide it in smoother.

"My love, wrap your hands around me instead", the way he said it in such a gentle and soft way made you give in. For the first time in your criminal life, you're holding and at the same time, being held by a male being.

Your thoughts are interrupted for the 2nd and probably not the last time by Zihao's dick entering you. You look down to see your stomach has a very visible bulge. When Zihao goes to press on your stomach, you moan out. "Seems you're very sensitive, you'll bring wonderful offsprings", he smiles. Before you could even question it, he starts to pound you again but this time with both his cocks deep inside your poor stretched out hole. Some of his cum even dripped out your hole due to how fiercely and deep he thrusted. Your brain is fogged due to being so full. Your nails dig themselves into his still clothed back, nearly tearing his expensive leather. He wouldn't mind if you did at all. He loves the way you're clinging onto him with your arms around him. "Hah...agh", he lets out a string of groans as he hits your prostate each time he thrusts back in. You could only writhe in the pleasure, not being able to conceal your voice anymore as you moan louder than before. If some passersby came along, they'd hear your moans and the sound of skin against skin. With Zihao's cum already inside, there's noticeable squelching noises each time he pounds your ass.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Even after having you've came five more times, Zihao shows no sign of stopping. He's only came about twice you presume, not being able to recall much. Both your bodies sweaty and sticky. Your voice has gotten hoarse. You can barely think with so much cock inside you. Your lewd sounds and expressions only fuels Zihao's urge to fuck you even dumber. It's almost as if his hips are unstoppable. By now, his clothes and yours are already discarded on the ground next to the bed. This lets your nails dig into his bare back, leaving scratch marks as gold liquid, which someone can only assume to be blood, drip out of the scars. Zihao doesn't react at all despite how painful the scratches look. You feel as if you're about to die from overstimulation, or at the very least, pass out soon enough. You feel a sense of relief once Zihao finally came in you and stopped for a moment, letting you rest. "H-hah...ah..", you look at the ceiling, your hands no longer wrapped around Zihao. Instead, they're sprawled out on the bed as you pant, out of breath. "You're my mate and I'll make sure everyone knows that", you could hear Zihao say. Out of curiosity and a tint of fear, you look at him. He proceeds to trail his finger around your lower tummy, using some sort of magic? Power? You don't know, you can see his hand having a purple glow to it before you suddenly experience intense pleasure all over your body. You look down and see a symbol on your body. Before you could even say anything, you're roughly lifted up into his lap. This sudden action shocks you as he's looking up at your cute face.

"This is my mark on you, all mortal and immortal alike shall know to stay away fron you", he says with a fierce voice, proud of his mark on your skin and then points at the symbol, almost poking your skin. "Claim...? What do you mea—", just as you are about to finish your sentence, he thrusts upwards, going balls deep in you. You end up jolting for a moment with your eyes wide. "My claim in you, you're mine, no one else's." With your body now weak and wanting him to fuck you senseless, you rest your head on his shoulder, your face almost smushed into his chest. Wanting him to do all the job for you. He finds this reaction to his mark very amusing and continues to bounce you up and down on his cocks. His thrusts are relentless, making you close your eyes. You bite his collarbone, trying to suppress the pain however you could. Even when you're distracted, you feel something slithering up your leg. When you open your eyes and put your chin over Zihao's shoulder, you see his long scaly tail wrap itself around your leg. Despite the sight being able to freak anyone out, it treats your leg with gentility, not ever squeezing too tight. Unfortunately, your cock filled mind's too foggy to even register it's Zihao's tail.

You don't even notice him cumming inside you. It's only when he stops do you realize. You're almost about to pass out, how long will your 'punishment' last..? "Z-Zihao....I can't take anymore...", you huff out, panting. He, on the other hand, only smirked, "the night is still young, you're my mate for a reason, are you not?", you wish you had never committed those crimes.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Your memory of last night is quite hazy. You barely remember what happened after the 8th or maybe 10th round, you can't even recount. Zihao's inhuman stamina lasted all night long. When you awoke, it was already noon, long past when you're usually awake. Instead of finding yourself alone in your own bed, you turn to the side to be face to face with the dragon's peaceful face. His long eyelashes cast a shadow over his shut eyes. It's a completely different view compared to the night before. You could barely move anything. With the bruises all over your body, people would have thought you got into a fight if it weren't for the hickeys on every part of your body. Your neck, your chest, your thights, everywhere. You stared at the one who caused these on your body. Wondering what to do with this whole thing.

"What happened last night...", you question yourself quietly, trying not to awaken the man infront of you. You try to recall the best you can about last night. "Something about mate and..", you look at him to confirm your suspicions. Purple horns, a long scaly tail and serpent eyes from which you still remember due to how intimidating they were last night. Yep. He truly is a dragon. The one you've heard about ever since you were a baby. All your life, you thought all those stories were just crazy talk from old folks. How wrong you were.

Though, even with this being explained, you are still confused about how Zihao is able to have a human form. Not to mention what he meant as being 'his mate' and laying his 'claim' on you. When you go to check your tummy, you can still see the symbol clear as day. The shape is peculiar. The main shape is a circle with a diamond shape inside of it. In the very middle, there is almost a vine-shaped line which stretches out horizontally. The color is an unmistakable purple.

While you're lost in your own thoughts, you fail to notice Zihao's eyes opening slowly. One look at his eyes and you'd wonder why hadn't you suspected him of being non-human earlier. "My dear [Name]?", he calls out for you with a gentle voice, snapping you out of your train of thought. His tail wrapping around your leg once more. "W-wha, wait", caught off guard, you mess up your words. He throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer than before. With his grip being so strong and you being bruised up, you can't really escape this. It's your fate now and whether you like it or not, you have to accept it.

"Your punishment isn't over yet. Did you think one night would compensate the lives you took?", he states the very much obvious thing to him. You look at him with a worried look. What you did was wrong, sure but isn't this too excessive...? Being personally fucked dumb by the Judge every single night without a chance of escaping. God your pride and ego...you're not even sure if they survived last night, let alone several more nights. With a hesitant tone, you ask, "how much longer then?", which he answers without skipping a beat, "If I'm not wrong, it'll take about 7,783,457 more years", "WHAT!? Are you forgetting I'm a human? My life span's like 60 more years if I'm lucky, I'll die long before then", you yell at his outrageous words, trying to get up but eventually being pushed nack down. He chuckles, finding your reaction very amusing. "Don't fret, you're now the dragon's mate, you will live for as long as I do.", there he goes again about you being his mate. "And..how long is that exactly..", Zihao smiles sweetly, "we have the rest of eternity for us", you can almost see his face glowing as these words come out his mouth.

"Hold on, I have loads of other questions. What did you mean by having your kids??? On top of being human, I'm a human MALE", you emphasize the male part. It's common knowledge that males don't have wombs and, therefore, can not get impregnated. Perhaps it was just dirty talk? "Oh, of course you can, see this? It's proof you can", he rubs your tummy once more, gesturing at the mark he had left last night. You're flustered by his choice of words and instinctually lift your hand up to hit him for even saying such things, only to be stop in your tracks once more. "My dear, don't be like that", his expression is smug. He knew you were going to hit him sooner or later. "I guess I better make sure you learn your lesson instead of spoiling you."

══════════════════════════════

This man has my heart rn 😍☝️ I have so many ideas for him in the future.

Speaking of ideas, my next oc is an middle aged man/dilf ��

[bunnis-monsters]

Devoted

Yandere!Knight Elf x Princess!Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober

Oct 15th

Oct 14

Oct 16

summary: your knight is having scandalous thoughts about you…

warnings: dirty thoughts, nudity

Devoted.

It’s what every knight was, devoted to those they protected, devoting their bodies, hearts, and souls to the royal family and their safety.

But for your knight… it was more than that.

He had spent years wandering the earth, despising human kind for the slaughter of his brethren. To him, humans were selfish and cruel creatures that cared not for nature or other beings, only for their own personal gain.

That was… until he met you.

He had been starving to death, an intentional choice on his behalf. The world had rejected him, taken away all of his loved ones and left him to be all alone, with no one to share his long life with.

When a carriage passed by the tree he leaned against, the place he had picked for his final rest, he hadn’t been expecting a woman to jump out and run in his direction, lifting his chin and pouring cool water down his parched, dry throat.

“Gods, you’re skin and bones. Are you alright..? No, of course you aren’t…”

Within moments, you were flanked by several men in armor, men he would later come to know as royal knights.

“Princess, please return to the carriage. It is not wise to interact with… beings such as himself.”

You shot the knight a look and he quickly backed down. “If I were to ignore a dying man when I am able to help, who am I to call myself a princess of the people?”

The elf attempted to pull his head away, but was both too weak… and too mesmerized by your beauty to do anything but let you feed and nurture him as he was taken back to the palace.

Over the next few days, he was taken care of thoroughly by the palace staff, his every need tended to.

He found out by listening in to the maids outside his room that you had ordered all of the palace to take care of him as if he were royalty himself.

You quickly scolded anyone that dared to even play with idea of discriminating against him due to him being an elf. It was… refreshing, and he felt strange hearing a human speak of him as if he were a person.

As he recovered, you visited him as much as your duties allowed, chatting with him and making sure he was being treated well.

He felt strange when he started looking forward to your visits, even wanting to recover faster so he could stay by your side at all times.

And he was able to achieve his dream by moving up the ranks as a knight, eventually becoming your personal guard. It wasn’t easy, the training was grueling and he was mistreated for being an elf…

But a year later he kneeled before you as your personal knight. He put the work on and climbed the ranks… all for you.

It didn’t take long for him to gain your trust. After all, you were a kind and fair princess. You didn’t judge him for being an elf, something he had never experienced before. He was your knight, and you believed in his strength.

And when he took over protecting you, he started to get a bit… greedy.

He didn’t like that other people got to see and touch you. They were filthy humans who only wanted to use and abuse you.

Even the maids helping you dress and bathe would coo soft compliments, saying how they adored their princess and wanted nothing more than to see you happy.

But he heard what they’d say in the hallways. He would hear their hateful words and gossip. They hated you for being royal, for having a better life than them,

They didn’t know you like he did.

Slowly, he began gathering evidence against each maid and butler, every single body guard and knight that attended you was either fired or executed.

No one should be able to be so close to you… no one but him.

It was late one night when he first saw your bare body. You were bathing, him standing by the door, facing it to guard you.

Having been pampered your entire life, you didn’t exactly know how to properly bathe yourself. Now that all your maids had been fired, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“C-could you… help me?”

The tips of his elf ears turned pink when he turned to see you leaning against the edge of the tub, your soft breast squished by the cool surface.

The mere sight of your plump form bare in front of him was enough to have his cock straining against his pants.

“Of course, my princess…”

He sat down on the edge of the bath, slowly easing the shampoo into your hair. After that was your body, and he steeled himself before moving forward.

Moving the washcloth against your soft flesh felt almost sinful. You were his princess, and yet he was touching forbidden territory. Although he tried his best to avert his eyes, he ended up catching sight of your pretty, fat pussy.

It looked so soft, and he could almost picture how cute you’d look all stretched out on his cock. How you’d moan for him to be gentle, burying your face into his neck.

He’d comply, giving you the tender lovemaking you deserved…

After your bath, he had to tuck you into bed before leaving the room to deal with his throbbing erection.

His princess… how he wanted to keep you pure and innocent… but his desires were overwhelming.

Perhaps he could use his elven beauty to woo you and take you away… after all, he could never have you while under that kingdom’s law.

Soon, you would be his…

Want more? My commissions are open, or you can send me a Kofi requesting more!

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[beloveds-embrace]

I feel like feral reader has the biggest, saddest eyes known to man when not on a mission, they just want love and pack. It's not their fault they're so feral. They were /made/ to be a weapon, when all they wanted was peace

If feral's an alpha - I can see them hunting down snacks and bringing it to the 141 like "look! I can provide! I can be gentle!" And just watching them eat with those (almost weirdly) big eyes.

If feral's an omega - I can see them hiding away and trying to frantically nest, to give themself somewhere safe. It's not right, there's no pack scent so it just pushes them further into the feral mentality, but (once) if feral swipes some of the packs' items, it does help. It's messy, it's too small, but its a nest, and its theirs and thats all that matters

And omg imagine if feral gets hurt and needs to be hospitalized

The higher ups demand that they be cuffed to the bed, but when the 141 sees feral, they see someone who's just scared. Scared of the hospital and scared of themself. They've been stripped of the muzzle, chains, and scent patches, and look so utterly /weak/. Their scent is distorted from the cruel use of scent blockers, meaning telling their designation from that is impossible.

And then they're so drugged up on pain meds that their walls are lower, and a /lot/ more talkative without their muzzle...

Igh just imagine the sweetest fluffiest angst that hurts so good

(Not a request, just some of my rambles)

👽

do you know that you ate with this ask? because you did. you absolutely did 😩 i loved reading all your thoughts about feral reader, especially the speculation of how they'd act depending on their designation!! the part abt the hospital works so well with what i had planned so i hope you like what i've added to it <33

CW: human trafficking omegaverse masterlist

The hospital room is quiet, sterile, and suffocating.

John clenches his jaw as he steps inside, his sharp eyes scanning every inch of the space. He sees the IV lines, the machines monitoring vitals, the thick, military-grade cuffs securing your wrists to the bed. You look so small like this- nothing like the unrelenting force they fought beside.

Here, right now, you’ve been stripped of everything that made you feral.

No muzzle, no reinforced collar, no scent patches suppressing your pheromones into oblivion. For the first time since you’d been forced into their pack, they could see you. And it guts them.

Because you aren’t some bloodthirsty creature bred for war.

You’re just scared.

Your fingers twitch weakly against the restraints, dull nails scratching uselessly at the cuffs, but there’s no real struggle. No vicious snapping of teeth, no blank, unfeeling stare of a tool awaiting its next order. You barely even react to them entering the room.

Your scent is muddled- soured by years of suppressant use, reduced to something broken and incomplete. It makes it impossible to tell your secondary gender, but it doesn’t matter. Not to them.

The steady drip of the pain meds in your IV dulls everything- your body is sluggish, barely responding, but it also lowers the walls that kept them from truly knowing you.

“… ‘S too quiet,” you mumble, blinking slowly. Your voice is hoarse from disuse, raspy from the damage the muzzle had done to your jaw. It’s the first time any of them have heard you speak so calmly, in a controlled setting that isn't a battlefield, without the muzzle in place.

Johnny is the first to move, dragging a chair close so he can sit beside you. His movements are slow and careful- like approaching a wounded animal.

“Aye, hospitals tend to be,” he says gently. “Bit shite, aren’t they?”

Your lips press together in something that might be the ghost of a frown. “... Hate it.”

The words are so soft. They’re used to you tearing apart enemy soldiers with your bare hands, not murmuring complaints like a child unhappy with their surroundings.

“Yeah, I know,” Gaz murmurs from the other side of the bed. His fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. Not yet. “You, uh… don’t like small spaces, do you?”

Your response is slow, weighted with exhaustion, and your eyes flicker between them yet remain unfocused. “Not the spaces.” A small pause. “The waiting.”

John exhales slowly through his nose, crossing his arms. You were never allowed to wait. You were a tool, a weapon unsheathed only for war. They never let you have quiet. The only time you weren’t fighting was when you were locked away, bound and muzzled like a rabid dog.

It’s sickening.

You shift against the restraints, huffing when they keep you pinned in place. “‘M not gonna run.”

“Yeah, we ken, sweetheart.” Johnny says before he can stop himself. The pet name slips out, but you don’t flinch. If anything, your muscles relax just a little.

Simon, who has been silent in the corner up until now, finally moves. His mask is still in place, but his scent- bitter with restrained frustration- is unmistakable. He steps closer, gloved hands reaching out to carefully unfasten the cuffs.

It’s a risk. The higher-ups demanded you remain restrained, even sedated if necessary. Hell, it was a fight for the doctors to convince them to take off the collar and muzzle.

But Simon doesn’t give a fuck.

You blink sluggishly up at him as he undoes the clasps, rubbing absent circles over the raw skin left behind. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t acknowledge the way your fingers twitch under his touch.

You don’t lash out. You don’t fight. You just watch him with the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever fucking seen.

Fuck.

“We shouldn’t be here,” you say, words slurring together slightly. “Don’t- don’t need to waste time. ‘M just a weapon.”

Something cracks in John’s chest.

“No, you’re not.” he says firmly.

You blink slowly at him. “… That’s what they said.”

“Well, they don’t know shit.” Gaz snaps, unable to help himself.

Your lips part slightly, as if you hadn’t expected that. As if no one had ever disagreed with that sentiment before.

Johnny leans forward, his voice softer now. “You’re not a weapon, bonnie.” His fingers twitch again before he finally gathers the courage to reach for you, brushing a careful hand over your hair. You don’t flinch. Don’t move away. Your eyes slip shut under the warmth of his touch.

It’s the first time you’ve been touched like this. Not in combat, not in restraint, but with care.

“Jus’ want pack." You mumble, so quiet they almost miss it. And fuck- if that doesn’t make their chests ache.

They knew it wasn’t your fault. They knew you were made into what you are, forced into something unnatural. They’ve seen you- seen the way you watch them, longing written in the lines of your body, in the fleeting glances and hesitant movements that scream of someone who just wants.

And now, stripped of the chains and the regulations that kept you leashed, they see you for what you truly are.

Not a weapon, nor a monster.

Just a broken little thing that was never given a choice.

Johnny keeps petting your hair, Gaz is murmuring quiet reassurances, and Simon hasn’t moved his hand from yours. John steps closer, resting a heavy, grounding palm on your ankle.

“We’ve got you,” John says, voice low and steady. “You’re pack now.”

Your breath hitches slightly. Your walls are too low, your body too exhausted to mask the emotions that flicker across your face.

And for the first time since they met you, you look safe.

(John just wishes the reality you'll face once you are recovered was far, far nicer to you).

Later, Ghost is the only one still awake with you. Johnny dozed off in the chair beside your bed, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted back in an uncomfortable angle that would have left him sore in the morning if it weren't for the scarf Simon bundled in the crook of his neck. Gaz and John left hours ago, forced back to their own quarters under the watchful eyes of command. They’ll be back in the morning.

For now, it’s just you and Simon, the quiet hum of the hospital machines, and the weight of something unspoken between you.

Until you speak up again.

“Y’know,” you murmur, eyes closed, voice rough from disuse. “I wasn’t always like this.”

Simon stills.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe for a second, like any sudden shift might scare you away from whatever you’re about to say. His hands tighten over his knees, fingers curling into the fabric of his fatigues.

He doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He doesn’t need to. He knows you’ll either continue or shut down completely. He prays it’s the former.

There’s a long silence before you exhale, long and slow, staring up at the ceiling like the words are carved into the sterile white panels above you.

“They took me in the middle of the night,” you say quietly. “Didn’t hear ‘em coming. Should’ve. Should’ve smelled ‘em.” Your lips press together, something dark flickering over your face. “But why would I? I was just... doing something. Near a car, and then- then I got knocked out before I even... knew they were there."

Simon doesn’t ask who. Not when it means interrupting you, not in this fine, delicate moment with its hands grasped around his throat. But he can guess and connect the dots, though; It’s always the same types. People who think they can own things. Who see others as commodities, as something to be bought and sold.

His fists clench.

“Woke up in a cage,” you continue, voice distant, like you’re narrating someone else’s story. “Couldn’t tell how many others were there. Too many. Some crying. Some too scared to move. Some already…” You swallow hard. “Already gone."

Ghost keeps his breathing steady, keeps his hands still even though his body screams to move, to do something. But this isn’t something he can fix. He can’t go back in time, can’t put a bullet in the heads of the men who did this to you. The only thing he can do is listen.

“I remember thinking,” you murmur, lashes heavy, eyes wet. “if I just waited, someone would come.” A bitter, breathless laugh slips past your lips. “Someone always comes. That’s what they all say, right? That someone always comes.”

Simon knows better than anyone that sometimes, no one does. Sometimes, you have to claw your own way out. Sometimes, it would still not save you.

He says nothing, just watches as you shift slightly against the pillows, your fingers twitching restlessly atop the blanket.

“They started selling people off,” you say. “One by one. Didn’t matter if they fought, if they screamed. Just lined them up, packed them into trucks, and that was it.”

A pause. Your eyes fluttered shut, a lone tear rolling down your face.

Then, quieter:

“No one came.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Suffocating. Simon still waits, letting you decide if you want to keep going. You don’t look at him, but your fingers twitch again, this time like you’re reaching for something absent.

“Didn’t matter what I wanted,” you whisper, now more to yourself than to him. “Didn’t matter who I was. I was just a thing to them. Something to be sold. Caged.”

He knows that feeling too well.

He knows what it means to be stripped of personhood, reduced to nothing but flesh to be used and discarded. He knows the rage, the helplessness, the slow descent into something feral and unrecognizable. But unlike you, he had John Price's need to adopting strays to reel him back in. But you-

“What happened?” he finally asks, low and rough as gravel.

Your lips part, and for a moment, he thinks you won’t answer.

“I killed them.”

Simple. Unapologetic. Matter-of-fact.

Ghost doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t react at all. He just waits.

“First one was easy,” you say, exhaustion coloring every letter. “He was the one who opened the cage. Didn’t think I’d fight. Thought I was too weak, too scared. I was scared.” You exhale. “But not enough to let them take me.”

Your fingers curl into the sheets, grip tightening.

“They were so scary.” Your voice is flat, emotionless, but Simon can see the tension in your shoulders, the way your pulse jumps against your throat and reflects on the heart monitor. “Strong. Trained. Bigger than me. Didn’t matter.” A small, humorless smile twitches at your lips. “Didn’t matter how much stronger they were. I fought like a fucking animal.”

Ghost can picture it.

You, starved, exhausted, barely more than skin and bone- tearing through men who thought they were untouchable. Clawing, biting, ripping, killing. Not for sport. Not for pleasure. Just to survive.

It was never a choice; the only other option was death.

“I didn’t stop,” you admit, softer now. “Even when they were all dead, even when there was no one left, I couldn’t stop.” A deep, shuddering breath. “I was stuck like that. Didn’t know how to turn it off. Still don’t.”

The silence stretches long between you, until Simon breaks it; “Not your fault,” he murmurs, waiting for you to look at him with those glassy, painfully big eyes. He shakes his head. “You didn’t have a choice.”

Your throat bobs, something unreadable passing over your face and for a long time, neither of you speak. “You’re the first person I’ve told.” You admit, voice barely above a whisper.

Simon’s fingers twitch. He wants to touch you. Wants to pull you close until he can rub his face and scent all over every crevice of your body. Not to restrain, not to command- just to comfort. But he doesn’t. He can't.

Instead, he just nods, voice soft when he says: “..Get some rest, love. We’ve got you now.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

[seoups]

mrs. all american- m. fushiguro

megumi finds himself entranced by the american transfer student. song: mrs. all american by 5sos. a/n: i've been staring at this too long, it's driving me insane so here you go.

"NO ONE UNDERSTAND THE CHEMISTRY WE HAVE- IT CAME OUT OF NOWHERE."

It started with a look- a glance that lingered too long as Megumi saw you walk onto campus, the white-haired freak standing next to you.

You were introduced as the newest first year- a transfer student from New York. You had been in town for less than a month before you discovered you could see curses. And you had the unfortune of running into Gojo who took notice of that.

The first time Megumi’s hand brushed yours was during training. All the first years had joined the second years in the exchange event and Megumi was getting used to your presence.

The smallest moments weaved themselves together. Spending time with Nobara and Megumi as you went through classes, studying, and training.

“So, what’s New York like?” Nobara kicked her feet as she asked you more and more questions about your home country. “Loud. Megumi would HATE it,” you teased. “Makes sense considering that you’re from there,” a rare smile tugged at his lips.

A borrowed pen, the faintest curve of his lips as you stumbled over your Japanese, his lingering presence in the classroom as you asked Gojo-sensei for Japanese tips after class.

You’d noticed his lingering gaze. It was sharp, assessing- but soft.

It wasn’t just his eyes. It was the way he moved closer during missions, subtly standing in front of you to block you from the curse. How he handed you his notes without a word as he noticed you struggling to copy down Gojo-sensei’s sloppy handwriting. How you often came into his dorm to play with his divine dogs. How he couldn’t stop the smile creeping on his face when he heard your American accent when you spoke Japanese.

“How come you moved here?” he asked, a genuine curiosity in his eyes. “It was my mom’s idea,” you smiled as you pet his divine dogs. “She was getting bored of New York and applied for a job here.” “Do you miss it?”

The question sat between you, heavier than the smell of the rain soaked air outside. You didn’t answer right away, your gaze drifting to the fur of his divine dogs.

“Not as much as I thought I would,” you smiled. “Because of you.”

His hand stilled mid-reach as he went to pet one of the dogs. He didn’t say anything, but the slight shift in his posture was enough. His eyes lingered on yours, an unspoken understanding crackling between you.

You weren’t sure when you started to feel this way for Megumi. Maybe it was when he, instead of eating lunch alone as he tended to do, sat down with you to eat lunch.

Or when he spent his free time helping you improve your Japanese in exchange for you teaching him English. Or when he brought you soup that time you got sick.

It was the way he stole glances from you when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he always seemed to find a reason to stick around after everyone else had gone back to the dorms already.

One afternoon, you caught him sitting under a tree after you’d finished your weekly Japanese office hours with Gojo.

“Reconnecting with nature?” you teased, sitting down next to him. “I might need to after hearing you butcher the pronunciation on that reading,” he teased, continuing to look up at the sky. “Asshole,” you muttered. But the grin on your face betrayed you.

The confession wasn’t explicit. It didn’t need to be.

As the two of you sparred, your movements faltered in ways you couldn’t blame on being tired. He noticed. He noticed everything about you.

“You’re off today,” he said, dropping his stance. You laughed, “Maybe you’re just better today.”

His brow quirked, but instead of his usual retort, he stepped closer. His eyes ran miles across you- studying you, catching the light as you watched his movements.

Your pulse quickened. And for a moment, a split second, you thought about stepping back. But instead, you stayed still, the air between the two of you getting thicker by the second.

“Can you just say it?” his voice was low, almost inaudible. “You already know,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze didn’t waver. He stepped a half-step closer to yours, his hand brushing against yours- purposefully. His fingers curled lightly around yours as his lips curled into a small smile.

“Yeah, I do.”

© 2025 SEOUPS do not plagiarize, steal, translate or repost my works on any platforms!

[sukunasteeth]

Taking Care of a Tired Sukuna

Sukuna has had a long day.

Well, night.

Morning.

Fuck.

Working construction had been twisting up his sleeping schedule. At this point, Sukuna was starting to feel it in his body; in the strain in his muscle, and the aches and pains that randomly gripped him.  

They had him working on a new project that could only be done at night, while the public was off the main roads, and that meant his new work hours were starting from sometime in the middle of the evening and ending in the morning or the mid-afternoon. Being nocturnal wouldn't be so bad if his commute home wasn't during rush hour. The traffic was always worse when he just wanted to crawl onto his couch and fall asleep there. And when he does come home at the end of the day - he's aching, exhausted, and every bone in his body is vibrating with the noise from a jackhammer or the hum of a forklift.

Sukuna has always liked something that keeps him busy, interested, something that tests his strengths. So, he can't say that he hates the job, but he does wish that it wouldn't occupy so much of his time. He's wont to forget things when he's so wrapped up in a new task.

Like today, for example, when he finally swings his truck around the front of his apartment building, barely making it off the freeway without murdering someone, and he spots your car parked there in his spot.

He starts a bit, his sleep deprived brain suddenly spinning as memory serves him. 

That's right. You were supposed to come over today after he got off of work and spend the night- and he didn't plan a damn thing. There's no flowers in the backseat, he didn't stop to grab lunch for the two of you, he doesn't even have anything in his fridge for dinner tonight, besides a few forgotten beers tucked away in the side door.

As Sukuna searches for a parking spot much further down the street, he knows he should be disappointed with himself, but he can't help the touch of excitement that's suddenly dissolving the exhaustion from his muscles. Sometimes, Sukuna resents the fact that you manage to reduce him to this. He hates that he can't control that his heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing you again, like he's in some sappy romance novel.

But it was the hold you had on him, and he was starting to accept it.

~

You got to Sukuna's apartment about two hours before he was scheduled to be home. It was a day off for you, and you woke up with butterflies fluttering around in your chest.

You were giddy to see him. You always were. And not a single butterfly has died in your heart-space for him since the moment you met Sukuna, around two years ago. He has tended to each of them since then with his gentle but stubborn touch, although, he would never admit it.

You adored him for that.

It's still early in the morning when you use the key he had made for you to unlock his front door. Immediately upon stepping in, you're hit with how dark his studio is. The sun had risen over the horizon hours ago, and yet, the only hint of its light came from a small gap in Sukuna's blackout curtains. When you pull them back, you turn around and wince at the room behind you.

Yep, he's working too hard.

There's construction tools all over the house; sitting on the counter, in the sink, on his bed-stand, there's even a huge oil covered machine beside the front door that you nearly trip on in your trek over to the curtain. His coveralls and work clothes are strewn across the living room like he's been too exhausted to even make it to his bed at the end of his days, which is not very far from the couch. Meanwhile, his bedroom and the kitchen look nearly immaculate, telling you he hasn't cooked in days and confirming your suspicions about his sleeping arrangements. You wander over to his fridge and pop it open, sighing hopelessly when you're greeted with nothing inside.

Good thing he has you. 

~

By the time he makes it home, it's around one in the afternoon. You've got his laundry hanging on the clothesline outside, more in the washing machine, and all of his tools and odds and ends have been sorted and dusted clean. You've opened every window he has, and cool, fresh air sweeps away the oppressed darkness his apartment held before. Everything was back in equilibrium. 

When his keys jingle outside the door, you're just finishing up the last of folding his laundry. Sukuna steps inside, and your heart aches at how drained he looks despite the way his eyes widen as he peers around the room in surprise. His clothes are covered in dust from the construction site, and there's a smear of dirt on his cheek that makes him look like a chimney sweep. There's a tool in his hand that looks rather heavy, straining the muscles in his arm, but he seems to have momentarily forgotten to put it down. Half moon circles are embedded under his eyes, but they only bring out the intensity of his gaze. 

"Hi 'Kuna?" You chime, calling his attention to rest on you.

He blinks, taking a moment to process the situation. You don't recognize the glimmer in his eyes then, and part of you starts to sweat at the thought of him taking this all wrong. Sukuna had never been particularly picky with you, but vice versa, you had never done something like this for him before. He never gave you the opportunity, after all. Out of the two of you, Sukuna was usually the one who was always effortlessly put together.

"You... cleaned..." He notes. 

You swallow, "I did but I didn't move things around though. Just tried to put things back. Your laundry is right outside and I got you some groceries-" Sukuna drops the tool in his hand without warning, and you start talking faster, your voice raising a pitch as he starts towards you. "Okay, thinking back, I guess I should have asked. Maybe texted- no, you hate texting. Maybe called-"

“Did you clean the paint specks off of my air compressor?” He was standing in front of the machine beside the front door, which you painstakingly made sure not to ruin in your cleansing, despite having no idea what it was. 

When he looks at you for an answer, continuing to close the distance between the two of you. You swallow the rock in your throat. “Too much?” 

He’s made his way across the room and his surprised expression finally settles into a familiar hungry grin. He grabs you by the hem of your jeans, yanking you roughly towards him. You catch yourself on his chest, making a small noise of surprise. When you look up to scold him, Sukuna is an inch away from your face, his lips almost brushing yours, save for half a centimeter of space between them. He smells like sawdust and menthol, you can taste it in the close proximity as he greedily takes your breath away. 

“Off. Now.” He growls, but his fingers are already undoing the button clasped in the front of your pants. “I’m about to fuckin’ eat you, sweet thing.” 

~

You end up skipping lunch, but you're well satisfied a few hours later. A certain hunger: satiated. Sukuna is resting peacefully beside you. You can hear his even breathing against the sound of the cicadas outside, screaming in through the windows. Seeing him so content, sets your heart at ease and you release a sigh of relief. 

Now, to end the night, it was time to slip out of bed without him noticing to finish folding his laundry. 

Or so you thought. 

As you carefully peel back the blankets and try to sneak off the side of the mattress, a warm pair of fingers loop themselves around your panty line, effectively preventing you from going anywhere. Guiltily, you peek over your shoulder to see Sukuna glaring at you with half of his face still smushed into his pillow, genuinely disgruntled with the fact that you were trying to leave his bed. You can't help but chuckle.

"I'm just gonna go grab your laundry." You reassure him, brushing a tousled tuft of his hair out of his eyes. The knot between his brows deepens.

"Let me do that later. C'mere. " He tugs on your panty line, confident that you'll be submissive for him.

The sun outside was casting tall shadows on the walls of his bedroom and the glow was now deep and rich, telling you that it was preparing to set. You didn't want Sukuna's laundry on the balcony all night, which is what you were sure would happen if you didn't go and grab it now.

You hear a thread rip in your panty line interrupting your contemplation and, quickly, you grab his wrist, squeezing it as a signal for him to let go.

He continues to hold fast, his brow cocking in a silent dare.

"'Kuna, come on." You try, "Lemme take care of you-"

"You've been doing nothing but take care of me all day." He scoffs, like the idea of it is absurd to him. Rarely does Sukuna allow you the opportunity to show him as much care and adoration as you have today. Being doted on was not typically something he enjoyed. You knew that, and that's how you also knew that he was exhausted to his bones that day. "Get your ass back here."

There's a tug again, and another thread snaps somewhere. You pout at him, already having the foresight that this pair of panties wasn't going to last you long either. Your partner had the tendency to rip them off of you, and this wouldn't be the first pair to become a shred of what they once were. To be fair, he was also known for giving you his credit card and telling you to go buy "some things for him to see you in", so it would be at no cost to you. But, you happened to like this pair.

Sukuna watches you consider your options silently, unrelenting in his hold on your lace. When you peek up at his gaze, testing one more time, you know you've already lost.

"Don't make me chase after you." He warns, the promise of your inevitable surrender is evident in the predatory glint of his eyes. If Sukuna had a tail at that moment, it would be swaying back and forth, preparing for a pounce. "It's been a while since the last time I had you tied up. I do miss those sweet little bruises we left on your wrists."

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention upon his recollection. The last time Sukuna had you in ropes, you had to call off of work the next day. Your backside stings with the memory, but half of you can't help but ache for it too. Tied up in Sukuna's bed while he was forced to care for the boneless pile that was his girlfriend, drunk off of his lovemaking? That wasn't the worst place to be.

But, on the other hand, you could tell how exhausted he was with the new construction project at his job. You have a flashback of showering with him at the end of the night and scrubbing sawdust out of his hair. Having to gently prod and kiss him awake as he fell asleep standing up in front of you. You were adamant that you weren't going to do anything to tire him further tonight. 

Before you can properly give in, Sukuna must have decided that you were taking much too long to obey him. 

His other hand reaches over and winds around your lower waist, pulling you backwards into the soft cushion of the pillows and easily flipping the two of you so that he’s mounted above you. In your surprised stupor, he collects both of your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head. 

"You've forgotten how to follow directions again, kitten." His murmur is like velvet against your ear. His teeth graze over his favorite spot on the nape of your neck, where he’s already tortured it with his teeth and hickies. You didn’t realize how raw the skin was until he bites you there, drawing a whimper from your throat. 

 "Let's remind you."

[smuttysabina]

Tropical Passions with Lisa

(Lisa x Male Reader, 5.3k Words) Tags: Incest with your older sister Lalisa; A conflicted sibling relationship; A forceful start to the sex; Makeup sex; Creampies; Virgin sex; Getting deflowered by your hot older sister is fun; Blowjob; Intimate sex; Technically some cucking going on; Written in one sitting; Step-sibling sex is for cowards, make them blood related; A wholesome and loving conclusion

You had always hated your older sister Lalisa. She had constantly hogged your parents' and peers' attention, gorging herself on their praise while your own achievements had been duly ignored; and of course, she had been an unrepentant slut. It was a rare night that your sleep had not been uninterrupted by the sounds of Lisa fucking some lover of any gender, her bed creaking so badly she required a new one every year, how she managed to remain unimpregnated was beyond you. Naturally, growing up with such a whore of a sister had caused you to follow the complete opposite path, so while she had ascended to sex-drenched idol-hood, you had instead quietly completed school and gotten yourself a pure and sweet girlfriend. Not that you had done anything yet. Sex before marriage? Appalling! Public displays of affection? Disgusting! Mutual Masturbation? Nauseating! Hand holding, fingers locked? Perverse! Only the chastest of kisses, and wholesome hugs were allowable, and it brought you no small amount of joy that she wholeheartedly agreed with you. So it infuriated you to no end that you were unable to bring her along with you on yet another family vacation to some tropical retreat, no doubt your parents were overly worried about how she would react to your harlot of a sister, but you looked forward to seeing her again. You just had to make it through dealing with whatever mindless debaucheries your big sister Lisa had cooked up for this trip...

Awareness comes slowly to you, reality slowly bleeding into your dreams as you gradually become aware of your surroundings, your nerves tingling as they lazily report upon the myriad sensations assaulting them. The exquisite softness of the sheets encasing you, the gentle cold air of the AC caressing your face, the burning sensitivity of your staggering erection digging into the mattress, and the strange patch of warmth in the bed beside you. You start, flinching away from the person curled up mere inches from you, scooting to the edge of the mattress as they groan softly in protest. Lisa blearily raises her head up from her pillow, squinting at you in confusion before collapsing back onto it and letting out an indignant whine, wriggling to find a comfortable position before falling back asleep. Your heart hammering, you slip carefully out of bed, doing your best not to disturb your sister, all the while cursing your parents for forcing you to share a room with her, this was certainly not helping you two bond. The fact that there was only bed was a further annoyance, it was a huge one to be sure, but Lisa seemed to unconsciously seek out heat in her sleep and latch onto her target like a leech, so in reality you ended up far closer together than you would have liked. Which made dealing with your morning wood all the more awkward, since you were loath to masturbate, your member tended towards truly spectacular erections come the dawn, urging you to give in to your vile thoughts and pleasure it. Ignoring your disgustingly drooling penis was difficult at the best of times, but with the scent of a woman in your nostrils, no matter that she was your sister, made resisting your wicked meat nearly unbearable. Every morning you would cover it in an ice-cold washcloth, but even then it would defiantly stand strong for many minutes before ungraciously retreating. Needless to say, your testicles were in constant agony.

After dealing with your unwanted visitor, you check your phone, lovingly responding to your girlfriend's messages before learning that your parents once again had skipped off on some early morning jaunt and would only be back by evening. So, yet another day you would have to spend solely in the company of your whore sister, wonderful. Though, to be fair to Lisa, you had yet to see her engage in her usual wanton behaviour, you did not doubt for a moment that she had been busy messing around while you were not looking. With a resigned sigh you order breakfast, spend the next hour idly munching upon it, waiting for your sister to finally get her lazy ass out of bed. Eventually she stirs, and yawning a good morning she stumbles into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as usual so you are forced to listen as she voids her bladder. Lisa plops down into the chair across from you with a smile, wearing little more than an overly large shirt and her underwear, an outfit which makes perfect sense considering the heated locale. Cheerfully devouring some fruit, she kindly asks if you had any ideas what you wanted to do today? After all, yesterday you two had such a great time at the aquarium, Lisa hadn't seen you that excited in years! In the face of such relentless enthusiasm you give in, and tentatively raise the idea of going snorkeling together? Beaming, your sister happily agrees.

You had always felt somewhat disgusted whenever your sister had worn something showy, a natural reaction for a sibling to have, but also one born out of disapproval of her loose living. Still, you grudgingly had to admit that Lisa looked absolutely stunning in her yellow bikini, no wonder so many men were desperately enthralled by her. Her tanned skin gorges upon the sunlight, the dappled reflection of the water only serving to enhance her beauty, even with the giant goggles and snorkel goofily attached to her face she still turned heads as you strode deeper into the surf together. She even held your hand as she guided you into the ocean, something you could barely tolerate, yet over the past few days, and against your better judgement, you had felt yourself warming up to your benighted sister, but just a little bit. You get a faceful of Lisa's ass as she smoothly switches from walking to swimming, and a slight tingling fills your groin; perhaps you should not grow too relaxed around this slut lest you be corrupted... But the next few hours pass in a delightfully wholesome fashion, the pair of you leisurely swimming along the reef and admiring the reefs and flourishing wildlife; it was almost enough to make you forget what a whore Lisa was.

It was only later that day though, that the old Lisa you knew so well started to shine through this charade she was putting on. You were relaxing in a small, shaded pool, secluded by shrubbery with your sister curled up intimately close to you, chatting idly about how the day had gone when she finally pops the question. Wearing the sly grin universal to older siblings everywhere, Lisa asks, "So, tell me about this girlfriend of yours, is she cute?" Blood rushes to your face immediately as you sputter at the sudden inquiry, which only makes your sister's smile grow ever more predatory. She squishes herself against your side, throwing an arm around your shoulder and cooing, "Don't be shy, show me a picture of her, c'mon!" Flustered, you haltingly pull up a picture of you beloved on your phone for Lisa to hem and haw at appreciatively, her eyes flicking all over the screen as she judges her in a thousand minute ways before nodding in approval, "She looks pretty enough, has she been treating you well?", Lisa gives you a knowing smirk, "How is she in bed?" A surge of outrage fills you as you angrily inform your dear sister that you and your girlfriend had not engaged in any such foul activities, nor would you be until you were happily! Lisa gawps at your outburst, cold fury crossing her face before giving way to worry, "Is it... not working for you two in bed," she places a hand on your thigh in support, mere inches away from a bulging pressure in your shorts, "Are you... unable to get it up with her?" You repay her honest concern with open scorn, grumbling angrily, you surge up out of the cozy pool and storm off back to your room, leaving Lisa yelling platitudes at your retreating back. Really, she really just did not understand!

Lisa watches her baby brother stomp away with hurt roiling in her stomach, what the fuck was wrong with him? Well, she partially knew, honestly how could she not feel more than a little guilty about being an awful older sister growing up? Being the village bicycle had satisfied her powerful sexual needs, but it had no doubt given her brother all sorts of unwanted pressure and attention. Of course, once she had become an idol, her sexual appetites had grown voracious, and no doubt embarrassing to her younger sibling back home, but she had always made sure to try and send gifts to cheer him up. Instead he seemed to loathe Lisa, and no matter how hard she tried to patch things up, things always fell apart, usually whenever he caught her slaking her desires with some new lover. But not on this trip! No, on this trip Lisa had been on her best behaviour, applying every ounce of her willpower to keep her lusts in check, engaging in only the most innocently enjoyable activities with her brother; displaying nary a glimpse of her usual sex life. In spite of that, he had been downright weird since he had gotten here, well, more so than usual. She had expected the customary puritanical song and dance, but with him having a girlfriend for a couple years now, she had hoped he would have opened up a little. But no, instead if anything he seemed even more repressed than normal, getting hard constantly and always on edge about everything. He was leaking so much at night Lisa could smell his precum staining the sheets in the morning, and she was honestly surprised his raging erection had not torn a hole in his boxers whenever he scrambled out of bed to use the restroom. Hell, he hadn't masturbated even once since they had gotten to this tropical paradise, most guys would have blown a few loads in the shower and dispelled the tension, if anything Lisa was not sure if he had cum even a week before the trip!

The constant reek of pent up semen in their room was starting to get to Lisa, she was already feeling twitchy, having deprived herself of sexual stimulation for so long, this was probably the most days she had gone without fucking in years. She really should take her own advice and at least masturbate, but the last thing she wanted was her brother sheepishly returning to apologize only to find her knuckle deep inside herself, so she endured. Still, something was obviously wrong in her little brother's relationship, and she was determined to fix it; after all, even as warped as she had become, she still felt responsible for him as his older sister. But first, Lisa needed some advice, and not from the other girls in Blackpink. Jisoo would give some well-meaning yet ultimately useless suggestions, Rose would offer up some complicated scheme that would really just be a front for sadism, and Jennie would simply message 'On my way', before showing up and traumatically fucking the life out of your brother in under half an hour after landing. No, Lisa needed to ask some of her more.... normal friends; well, relatively normal. Minutes later she was chatting avidly on the phone with Jihyo and Nayeon, both of whom were appalled by the situation their dear friend was in. Jihyo was apoplectic that Lisa's brother was not putting such potent loads to good use and impregnating his girlfriend, while Nayeon was practically drooling at the thought of being the first one to receive said load. But after a solid hour of intense conversation, the trio had produced a solution that would undoubtedly solve Lisa's darling brother's problems. It would merely require Lisa to break one of society's oldest taboos, but having broken so many already, what was one more?

You feel thoroughly wretched as you lay upon the massive king bed, your sister had been only showing you concern, and yet you had brutally rebuffed her kindness. Normally it was so easy to hate Lisa, you would only need to turn a corner while fetching ice and find her being publicly spitroasted by strangers like some sort of cheap whore, but this time at least there had been none of that. She had been the sweetest older sister a brother could ask for, constantly indulging him, taking him to see all the sights and lavishing him with love and attention; it made you uneasy. Surely Lisa was hiding something, some depraved scheme that she was enjoying while being outwardly wholesome, it had happened before, more than a few times actually. But this time she had seemed genuine, which only left you all the more conflicted, were you the one in the wrong this time? Your morose musings are halted only when Lisa enters the room, who quietly joins you on the bed, patting you reassuringly on the shoulder, "Hey, I'm sorry if I upset you earlier today, why don't we have an early night okay? I'm sure things will be better in the morning." Mulishly, you nod in assent, and slowly join her for a simple dinner at the small table, which passes by in awkward silence. Lisa only speaks up as you get into bed, "Leave your shirt off, I think something is wrong with the AC, it feels really stuffy in here..." She's right, so with reticence you take it off, and snuggle in under the covers as Lisa joins you in bed. She gives your forehead a kiss, "I love you baby brother," before flicking off the light. Perhaps the morning would heal your rift?

Once again you awaken with an inconveniently large erection impaling the mattress, with a now-familiar hot spot behind you. Groggily, you attempt to wriggle out of bed to douse your morning's embarrassment once more, but find your way barred by an arm thrown around your chest. Your confusion only grows as you realize the heat from your sleeping sister was not from her laying nearby you, but rather because she was pressed up against you, with two hard points supported by surprising softness pushing into your back. Unable to process this development, you attempt to escape Lisa's clutches, but her arm holds you tight against her warm body, and your struggles only serve to wake her up. Your big sister stretches languidly against you, which only serves to emphasize what exactly her supple form feels like as it slides against your skin; you were not the only one going shirtless it seems. You feel a perverse fascination with the sensation of Lisa's breasts, and are distracted enough that when she casually pushes onto your back and slips atop you, you offer little resistance. She gives you a sleepy smile, her face mere inches away from your own, and gives you a kiss, "Good morning baby brother, it's time to make things better..." Displeasure wells up within you once more, and you tartly ask for her to get off you, and to put some clothes on. Lisa laughs gently at this and sits up, allowing the sheets to cascade down her smooth body, revealing her perky tits, the lighter skin making the dark of her erect nipples stand out all the more; and further down... Further down the bare skin of her thick pussy lips squishes against your gargantuan hardon, the warmth of her sex burning against your shaft. You stare up in shock at your older sister's nude body, as she patiently allows you to drink in the sight of her, before sliding her hands up your chest, "Are you ready for it? Just relax, and let your big sister do all the work."

Belated realization finally hits your brain hard enough to dispel the fog of arousal filling it, and you snarl in denial at Lisa, get the fuck off of you! But your sibling ignores your demands, and when you try to push her away she catches your hands and pins you down with surprising strength; as she frowns in annoyance, "Fuck, calm down! I am sick and tired of your weird chastity bullshit, it's not normal, so I'm going to take some responsibility as your older sister and fix things," Moving your hands above your head so she can keep them down with one of hers, she smoothly reaches down and pulls out your filthy dick, which drools disgustingly in excitement. Running a finger through the bubbling precum, Lisa seductively licks it clean, before giving you a sharp look, "Wait, when was the last time you came? Just how pent up are you?" Flushing with impotent fury and embarrassment, you answer truthfully, it had been two weeks since your treacherous manhood had last filled your sheets while you slept. Your sister shakes her head incredulously, "Yeah, that is fucking weird, you have a cute girlfriend, use her you moron; or just masturbate like a normal guy!" Lisa sighs, "Okay, let's do this, time to get your cherry popped little brother!" Regaining her usual cheer, your sibling ignores your struggles as you writhe and buck beneath her, her panties shoved into your mouth to stifle your continuous screams of outrage, as she slowly lines herself up. Your older sister gives you the sweetest smile, "I love you," before taking your virginity.

The sordid heat of Lisa's cunt engulfs your sensitive member, its soft folds slobbering all over your shaft as it devours every inch of you until her lower lips kiss your crotch. You groan in despair as your innocence is lost, you had intended that your first time be with your beloved on the night of your marriage, but instead your slut of a- Your body abruptly silences your internal raging as it floods your brain with pleasure, responding to the overwhelming and novel stimulation coming from your cock, it reacts naturally. You groan as your hips slam treacherously upwards, and the fattest load of your life explodes into your sister, richly rewarding her pussy for taking your virginity. Lisa lets out a soft gasp as you creampie her, she had barely even sat on your dick and you were already cumming in her; she smirks, virgins always finished so quickly. She opens her mouth to congratulate you, then pauses and glances down, where your balls continue to pulse; slowly, she slides herself back up your shaft as you gradually fill her pussy with your seed. Post-coital bliss wrestles with horrid guilt, as the catastrophic euphoria of your orgasm fades, remorse stabbing at you for so enjoying being forcibly assaulted by your own sister. Lisa meanwhile is ogling as she tentatively pokes at her sloppy holes, even filled to the brim she was barely leaking, "Fuck, just how much did you cum in me? If this was your girlfriend, she would be knocked up for sure; shit, this might be enough to be risky even for me!" She reaches down to pat your cheek affectionately, "But see, that wasn't so hard was it, didn't it feel so nice just letting it all out? So now that you're nice and drained we..." your older sister trails off as she glances down at your still rock-hard erection, "Oh."

Lisa lets out an astonished giggle as she teases you, "Wow, just how badly do you want to fuck your sister?" Then she stops, and gives you a quizzical look, "Wait, is that it? Is that why you've been so moody around me all this time?" You growl angrily up at her, and she winces as she remembers your gag, once removed however, you fervently deny her claims, while a creeping horror fills you as a little voice in your head agrees with her. But no matter what lies your mouth might say, your cock was entirely truthful as it lets out another leak of precum, beyond eager to be inside of your sister once more. An awkward silence falls as you both stare at your engorged manhood, before looking at one another for a time. Lisa's face crumples as she sobbingly embraces you, holding you tight as ugly tears course down her face, "Oh, you silly idiot, you should have told me! You've spent all these years watching everyone else have their turn with your big sister, but never you! Fuck, I should have known you would be jealous! I'm so sorry for being such a failure of a big sister!" Tentatively, you delicately bring you arms around Lisa, torn between shoving her off of you, or accepting that she may very well be right. Were you so violently against any hint of sexuality because you felt that your sister had spurned your unnoticeable advances while growing up; was that why you loathed her, out of fury at being denied? Your doubts shrink as Lisa kisses you once more, the wetness from her tears anointing your cheeks as her tongue pushes deep into your mouth, sloppily making out with you before pulling back. She gives you a loving smile, "Don't worry, your big sister will take responsibility for this, I'll fix things I promise!"

Beaming, your older sister sits on your cock once more, but this time Lisa was intent on not stopping until you were fully satisfied. You both moan as your member pushes through the goopy remains of your last load, and you share a knowing look; this well and truly was incest now, and it felt so right. Your sibling holds your hands as she rides you, eschewing her more showy techniques for a more primal slamming; your wildly bucking hips would have ruined any complex movements. Semen sprays everywhere as your ferocious sex expels it from Lisa's pussy, making an absolute mess as it drizzles over your skin. Your sister groans, "Fuck, no wonder you were pumping the sheets full of precum every morning, it must have been torture for you to be so close to me yet unable to relieve yourself," she gives you a wicked grin, "But now you can pump your sister full every morning instead!" The perverse thought of fucking your own sister for the rest of your trip fills you with excitement, and you swiftly grasp her petite waist to hold her steady as you pound away at her sopping cunt. Lisa's eyes roll back as she lets you have your way with her, her pussy spasming in anticipation of your next load, her hands hurriedly putting her hair into a messy bun to get it out of her face. Grunting, you creampie your older sister once more, slathering her folds with thick semen as she climaxes from the sordid pleasure of getting pumped full of cum by her baby brother. Shuddering, the pair of you makeout as your cock softens, but it is quick to surge back into full rigidity as Lisa idly rocks back and forth atop you, "Again?" she asks with a perceptive smirk.

You pump between Lisa's supple thighs with virginal passion as your sister simply lays back and takes it. Her legs wrap tightly around your waist as her hands roam your back and chest, spurring you on as you slam deep inside of her, "Oh fuck yes baby," Lisa gasps "It's your turn now, you've watched everyone else take their turn with your big sister, but she's all yours now!" You kiss her fiercely in response, as you unceasingly plow a furrow in your own sibling, your balls drenched with your congealed sexual fluids. Lisa shudders as she climaxes once more, her folds greedily massaging your shaft as you continue to fuck through her orgasm. You bite and suckle upon her neck as she holds you close, urging you on, "God, don't stop little brother, just keep fucking me until your drained! I don't care how nasty you want it, your big sister will do anything to satisfy you, I promise!" You take her up on that, as you feel your next load churning through your balls you abruptly pull out of the warm confines of your sister's pussy, before hurriedly scooting forward to shove your leaking cock into her face. Lisa knows exactly what to do, and opens her mouth in invitation as locks eyes with you, nodding encouragingly as you furiously stroke the cum out of your cock. Groaning, you jizz on your sister's face, the same face that was plastered on billboards and advertisements around the world, was now getting painted with fat ropes of your semen. Lisa doesn't blink, even when your salty load splashes against her eye, lovingly staring up at you as you cover her million-dollar face with your seed.

Lisa stops you from retreating, and with affectionate care cleans your cock off with her mouth, diligently sucking the dregs of your load out of you; before simply sucking on you for the fun of it. You quiver as your older sister gives you your first blowjob, her tongue skillfully caressing the underside of your member, as her naughty lips wrap tightly around your shaft. The sensation left you giddy, and Lisa's eye's narrow with satisfaction as she notes your obvious pleasure as she slurps up and down your length. But like any boy, you wanted to go deeper, and your sister was more than happy to oblige you. You moan loudly as Lisa deepthroats you, holding onto her bobbing head for support as you struggle to stay upright; gasping her name as she skillfully works your next load out of you. The pressure becomes unbearable, and you nearly collapse as you fill your older sister's mouth with your cum, streamers of semen even spewing directly into her stomach as she takes your spasming cock to the hilt; her salacious tongue hard at work coaxing your balls. Lisa doesn't even bother to wipe off the jizz drying on her face after you finish clogging her mouth with sperm, she can tell how much it arouses you.

You would have thought you would be satisfied by all that, but your bulging erection said otherwise. Giggling, Lisa merrily allows you to bend her over, hoisting her ass into the air and arching and spreading her cheeks to reveal your sloppy seconds leaking out of her gaping lower lips. Perverse pride permeates through you at the sight of your sister's cunt crammed full of your seed, how often had you seen someone else's load drooling out of your sister? But now she was yours, you had placed your own claim on her pussy, and you were eager to continue doing so. You shiver with barely controlled excitement as you grab her surprisingly curvy hips, you realized now how much your sister's perky ass aroused you, your cock head already glistens with precum when you push into the sloppy mess inside of Lisa. Who smirks as she feels you enter her, she can feel how eager you were to fuck her from behind just from how you penetrated her, and she knows exactly what her little brother wants, "Mhmm that's it, I bet you've been waiting to fuck me doggy this whole time, every guy does," her smile grows smug as she feels your dick stiffen, "I just love showing it off, I'm sure all your friends were blasting fat loads to my ass all the time..." she abruptly twists backwards and lovingly touches your cheek, "But now it's your turn to give your sister a good pounding, so don't hold back, okay? Lisa blows you a kiss, and moments later you are fervently fucking your older sister as if your life depended on it, who obligingly curls back down into her sharp arch to better pleasure her little brother's cock. You plow Lisa's perky butt, her cheeks slapping loudly against your skin as you work out yet another urge that had festered in your heart for years; this time, Lisa's ass was yours. Lust burns through you as you jackhammer your slut of a sister, the sheer eroticism of finally fulfilling your darkest fantasies driving you to orgasm faster than you anticipated. Howling your sister's name, your balls exert themselves once more and douse your sibling's cunt with sperm, who squeals in delight as she revels in the sensation of being filled, "Fuck yes! Fill your big sister up, cum in me, breed me!"

It was that last phrase that had you thrusting away again even before you had finished recovering from your climax, gritting your teeth as you force your tiring cock to rise to the occasion once more. Lisa looks back at you in bemusement, curious as to your sudden second wind, until she realizes, "Oh... does breeding me excite you that much," she giggles in delight, "You dirty pervert, it isn't enough to just fuck your older sister, you want to impregnate me as well?" Your increased pace is all the answer she needs, and Lisa ponders it for a moment before giving you an enormous and degenerate smile, "Why not? If you manage to knock me up, I'll keep it, it's the least your big sister can do... wait did you just cum in me again? Lisa laughs as she feels your cock spasming inside of her, "Fuck, you really want to put a baby in my belly don't you? At this rate even an idol like me might get fertilized!" Perversely, you feel yourself getting hard once more, your older sister was right, the thought of knocking her up aroused you immeasurably; but she stops you before you can continue fucking her, "Hey! Let it settle in me, how is the sperm supposed to reach me if you keep fucking it out of me? Why don't we switch holes for a little bit," Lisa smirks as she feels your manhood become nearly as stiff as it had been at the start, "Yes baby brother, you can use my asshole as much as you like!" You groan as urgently mount your older sister's tight asshole, you fucking love your sister, Lalisa!

Lisa purrs contently as she strokes her younger brother's hair as he sleeps soundly upon her tender breasts, his semen drying inside both of her holes. The familiar ache of her over-used body soothes her, she hadn't expected her sibling to have as voracious a sexual appetite as her, but she had certainly enjoyed it. But as his big sister, she still had some work to do while her dear boy peacefully slumbered, so humming quietly to herself, she gets to work. First she informs her friends of her success, Jihyo is already enthusiastically hoping her egg gets fertilized, while Nayeon is frothing at the mouth with jealousy for such a spectacular deflowering. Next she uses her brother's phone to send his girlfriend some select clips from the recording she had made of their coupling (Her brother could be so oblivious sometimes, how did he not notice her phone pointing at them the entire time!), cheerfully informing her what happened as well as telling her that she expected at least five nieces and nephews to spoil rotten. An hour later, his phone pings, and she enjoys a minute-long video of the "pure and innocent" girl squirting wildly to the sight of her boyfriend fucking his sister; no doubt she would be getting pumped full of cum within an hour of the couple reuniting. Finally, Lisa muses upon the enormity of what she had just done, she had forced herself upon her own brother, and engaged in depravedly incestous sex with him, oh and there was a very slight chance she might be carrying his baby as well. She was sopping wet at the thought of doing it again and again for the next week.

Lisa was looking forward to not leaving their room for the rest of the trip...