#but I prefer for the form to keep it as I always do with this kind of exercices...

[hibiscusseaart]

random hc that struck me in my head while i was showering. uh it's kinda weird one i think but i keep thinking about more animalistic Hatakes and can't help myself

btw Itama lives AU i love my dude how can i leave him out

so little context: when i was little my mom did some prayer where she whispered it and then licked me from nose to forehead a few times. listen idk what was that but i remembered it i had some ideas

so what if Hatake momma did the same thing with Senju brothers? So imagine Hashirama and Itama understanding that it was some sort of Hatake ritual and kinda moving on. Weird but all rituals are kinda weird.

But Tobirama, our dear autistic Tobirama thought about it like some sort of forehead kisses before bed and never grew out of it. Maybe he was a little bit too attached to this form of touch bc it soothed his headaches from sensing and poor eyesight when he was little

Itama, who I hc also being autistic, but a little bit more interested in masking, was a little more aware that no one actually licked anyone as a form of love outside of sexy time. But never actually told Tobirama bc he thought he knew. Hashirama also never mentioned it.

Tobirama fucking grew up thinking that licking his loved ones is an okay thing to do and a form of ultimate love or smth. He doesn't do that himself, he usually accepts hugs or kisses or any other form of love from his brothers, but never initiates. And he's kinda hurt that no one of his brothers do this anymore (i think they play licked and bite each other when they were little quite a lot).

Anyway all my thoughts are going to Madatobi so, when they get together, Tobirama will try to lick Madara sometimes in place of kissing, bc sometimes he's so overwhelmed with feelings, that kissing isn't enough. Madara takes us as a joke and sexy play at first and it will hurt Tobirama a bit, but I think he's got used for this kinds of rejection for now.

But then Madara would notice that oh, Tobirama takes these little licks seriously. Tobirama is always weird and stiff about sex if it's happening bc Tobirama started being all weird and licked his face, again.

Madara slowly catches on, bc Tobirama never fucking talks about anything that bothers him, but Madara IS a genius too thank you very much. He learns that for Tobirama it's a big deal and he wants to receive these licks too. And not in a sexy way, like it's not enough for licking neck or other parts of his body, no it's supposed to be on his face, preferably the forehead (even tho Madara thinks it's gross, the cold saliva all over the face ESPECIALLY on forehead is disgusting actually, i remember getting so annoyed that my mom did that). But oh well what can you do with love.

So Madara tries to make Tobirama happy with licking him from time to time (even tho he has to go on his tippy toes to reach his forehead). Maybe even in public. They already have reputation of having a freaky relationships, how much worse can it go?

Eventually Tobirama learns that licking face is not actually normal from Izuna, who was freaked out big time when he saw this display for the first time.

Tobirama was miserable that he was the freak the whole time and was getting upset over nothing, Madara is angry bc Izuna upset Tobirama and Izuna is just fucking traumatised.

ok i'm ending my ramble here. it's kinda weird but i had to get it out of my chest

[atwas-gaming]

People who complain that Sonic's character is "static" must have never played Unleashed or Black Knight. Or they did, but they didn't understand them.

I think one of the reasons why Unleashed and Black Knight are such fan favorites and stick in our memory so well is because the entire theme of both games is about taking Sonic out of his element, taking away things that he has relied on for so long- speed, jumping, spindashing, boosting, homing attacks- taking all those things away from him, and seeing how he does.

And he still shines. Even without all the abilities that he has relied on throughout his entire life, he still manages to beat the Big Bad.

(Please note that I haven't finished either game yet and I'm just drawing from what I've been spoiled on.)

As the werehog, Sonic is not able to curl into a ball at all (we're ignoring the mobile games for this post), and his greater height and weight, probably due to a larger bone structure, as well as heavier, thicker fur, keeps him from being able to run as fast or jump as high as he's used to. He now how to resort to fighting styles he has never used before, including several forms of martial arts (aided by his Dark Gaia-powered stretch abilities). Perhaps the most unusual of all is how he has to get down on all fours to run.

In addition, Sonic describes his werehog form as "pretty ugly." Sonic thinks of himself as good-looking, and this is a part of his personal identity, which is part of why he was upset that Amy didn't recognize him (no matter what feelings he may or may not have for her). The werehog form also seems to be physically uncomfortable and taxing on Sonic's body due to the heavier weight, as the werehog idle animations include Sonic stretching in an exaggerated way and forcibly rotating his shoulders (motions I, myself, have learned to use after years at a desk job that has ruined my neck and upper back). Sonic's idle animations also include him being jumpy and looking around every few seconds- basically, the werehog never fully relaxes.

All in all, Sonic is very uncomfortable as a werehog, and prefers not to be seen in this form. But the reason why is not fully evident until he thanks Chip for protecting him and keeping him from turning evil. To this, Chip replies, "I haven't done anything, Sonic. You're too strong to lose yourself."

On top of this, Amy doesn't have a problem with Sonic's appearance. She still loves him. Tails also doesn't care what Sonic looks like. Neither does Professor Pickle. Neither does ANYONE. Even if they're startled by the werehog's appearance at first, they all seem to go, "Oh, it's just Sonic. This is just what he's like at night."

The entire story of Unleashed was about Sonic coming to realize that he is not who he is because of what he looks like or how he is built.

Black Knight takes this a step further. In Unleashed, Sonic wasn't able to run, but he was still able to use his body as a weapon. In Black Knight, Sonic can run again, but nowhere near as fast as his normal speed. All of Sonic's abilities to fight with his body are stripped from him, and he is forced to use an actual weapon, instead. And Sonic hates this. He even says it: "I wish I didn't have to use this dang sword!"

Sonic has never used a weapon before in the games (as far as I am aware, anyway). His weapon has always been his own body: his feet, his fists, his whole body via spindash and homing attack. Now he's having to train himself to fight with something outside of his own body. This requires not only the creation of new muscle memory, but also a complete shift in the way his brain processes information to fight. He always has the option to just crumble and say, "I can't do this, it's not what I'm used to, I give up." He never does that. He complains a bit at first, but eventually rises to the occasion and excels at swordfighting.

Please bear in mind that I haven't ever gotten past the King Arthur battle. I presume Sonic is forced to kill him, and then I believe there's another half a game after that. But so far, it seems that Sonic's character arc in Black Knight is about him learning that he is not who he is just because of what he can do.

What makes Sonic Sonic is not what he looks like or what he is able to do, but about who he is inside. Sonic is someone who cares, someone who is strong, someone who doesn't give up, someone who sees a difficult situation and, no matter how much of an inconvenience it may be, turns it around and finds a way through.

[thevegandarkelf]

QOTU: Something Good

My first official installment in the 'Quarters of the Undead' AU created with @dixons-sunshine is here! We get to watch Vec and Scud's first meeting play out. Be prepared to become obsessed with them because I certainly am. Lydia Vector (Vec) belongs to me, Georgie Hawkins (Ginny, as Vec calls her) belongs to Krys. Banner and divider were also both made by her.

You can get to know Vec a little bit better here and Georgie here

This is my first time writing for Scud as well as my first time writing in third person in a long time, so please go easy on me.

CW for swearing, mention of medical procedures (she is a doctor, after all), a teeny tiny bit of sexual content if you squint really hard

Word count: 3.8k

@gothic-pumpkin you asked to be tagged in this <3

I'm not joking when I say I screamed into my pillow the other night because I love them so much these two make me absolutely feral I need to be put down or sedated or something

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Vec sighed, running a hand through her hair as she rested her elbows on the counter.

First, there was spilling hot coffee all over her fresh scrubs. Then, there was cutting her finger on a can of Monster, followed by dropping her keys in the toilet and burning her toast to a blackened crisp.

And that was all before even setting foot out the door.

While pulling up to a stoplight on her way to the hospital, her 2007 Toyota Corolla came to a halt, the dreaded sound of repeated clicks filling the car as she tried to start it again. A kind stranger stopped to give her a jump start, allowing her to make it to the auto shop just down the street, but not before she took a moment to white-knuckle the steering wheel and scream at the top of her lungs.

When it rains, it pours.

“Just what I thought. Dead battery,” a man behind the counter called out as he approached from the back. His name badge branded ‘manager’ swayed around his neck as he walked, creating a soft tapping sound as it clacked against the buttons of his shirt. “We can do it today, but it’s gonna be a while. We’re a bit backed up.” He reached under the counter into a drawer and pulled out an intake form. “You gonna wait around?”

“No, I’m heading to work,” Vec corrected, flipping her phone open to send a quick text to her best friend.

Vec: Car broke down on the road. Having the worst day :( Ginny: Oh no :( Ginny: Hoping something good comes out of this shitty day <3

That was Georgie, always whipping out her relentless optimism whenever the moment called for it.

“Your name?” the man asked.

“Lydia Vector. V-e-c-t-o-r.” She slipped her phone back into her pocket, grabbing a scrunchie and pulling her long black hair into a ponytail. “I prefer to go by Vec, though.”

“I’ll put both,” he said.

As she flattened and tied up her hair, a movement out of the corner of her peripheral caught her attention, and her eyes trailed over to one of the mechanics. He was tinkering with something, a welding gun in his hand and a bandana tied around his head to keep his soft brown hair from falling in his eyes.

And she was practically drooling after just one look at him.

“Hey,” she asked, nodding her head in the mechanic’s direction, “the cutie with the bandana. What’s his name?”

The man’s gaze followed her nod to his employee in the corner of the room. “That’s Josh,” he explained, the sound emanating from the depth of his chest a hybrid between a scoff and a chuckle, “he’s uh…he’s a bit of a wildcard.”

A small smile crept across Vec’s lips. She, too, had been granted the title of “wildcard,” both by her best friend & her family. She was already looking forward to meeting her match.

“We close at eight,” the manager interjected, clearing his throat before he continued, “if you can get here before then, you’ll have it back today.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. I’m supposed to be off at six. Might be a bit late, but I should be here before you close,” Vec assured, slipping her keys back into the pocket of her scrubs, “that’s the life of an ER doctor for you.” She gave the manager a grateful smile as she scooped a fresh can of Monster from her bag. “Thank you again. Today has been a nightmare.”

“Not a problem, ma’am,” he reassured, returning the grin, “we’ll call you when it’s done. I hope your day gets better.”

“Thank you. Me too.”

Before heading out the door, Vec looked back over her shoulder to steal one last glance at the handsome mechanic. Torn between wanting to give him her number on the spot and not wanting to be disrespectful and corner him at his workplace, she opted for the latter, hoping he would be there when she returned. Plus, she was already running behind. “Cutie with the bandana” Josh would have to wait.

Little did she know, she hadn’t been the only one stealing glances.

He’d taken notice of her the second she walked in the door. A little frazzled, hair disheveled from forgetting to brush it during the chaos of her morning, eyes tinged red from the stress cry she had in her car before coming inside. But he saw right past all of that.

It was almost angelic the way she ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it into a high ponytail. Her hair was so long that even then, it still reached far down her back. Though her eyes were tinted red, the ocean blue of her irises were the most stunning color he’d ever seen. The smile she gave the manager as she left, the way her scrubs hugged her body…the light thumping in his chest was beginning to pick up speed.

“Josh!” another mechanic called out, smacking him in the chest with the back of his hand. Though it stung, even that was barely able to pull him out of the clouds and back down to reality. “C’mon man, help me with this!”

“S-sorry,” Josh stuttered, subtly shaking his head and blinking rapidly a few times to further pull himself from his trance.

Over the course of her shift, Vec had forgotten all about her car and the shitty start she’d had to her day. She didn’t forget, though, about the cutie with the bandana. He’d been nestled in the back of her mind all day, creeping his way to the front at every few-and-far-between free moment she had. All Vec could do is hope he’d be there when she returned.

A nasty bout of gangrene and a couple of motorcycle accidents later, she was back in the staff locker room, eager to be home and in bed after being on her feet all day. Stepping out the bathroom stall, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, and it was only in that moment that it occurred to her what time it was and that it was, in fact, past closing time at the auto shop. She answered the phone with a sigh, repeatedly mentally kicking herself for letting time slip away from her like that.

“I’m so sorry, my shift ran over,” she apologized as she opened her locker, scrambling to grab her jacket and her bag.

“My wife’s an ER nurse, I get it. Don’t worry about it,” the manager said, “one of my guys offered to stay late so you could pick it up.”

Vec set her bag on the bench behind her, holding her phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she slipped her arms into her jacket sleeves. “I can’t ask any of you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask. He offered,” the man corrected. The jingling of keys filled her ear, followed by the ‘click’ of a door lock. “If you’re gonna be later than nine, try to call if you can and let him know.”

“Oh my God, thank you.” Her shoulders relaxed as she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

The clock on her phone read 8:45pm. The auto shop was only about a mile up the road, she thought, she could easily make it. As she reached the front doors of the hospital, she sent another series of texts to Georgie.

Vec: Picking up my car Vec: If I don’t text you by 9:30, call me until I answer Ginny: Be safe <3

It had only just gotten dark, the streetlights coming on as she stepped out the automatic hospital doors. The road was still busy, as the streets of Atlanta often were, flooded with cars late into the night. Despite all the lights and amount of people outside, she still kept her wits about her as she walked.

She stood at only 5 foot 7, yet despite her average size, she had surprising combat skills, her Navy SEAL brothers having taught her everything they knew. She’d handled men bigger than her before, once breaking one’s nose, and other bones, after she caught him trying to spike her drink at a bar. Still, she found comfort in toying with her small blue canister of pepper spray and clenching her keys between her fingers.

The walk to the auto shop was brief, only around 15 minutes or so, nothing noteworthy aside from a group of college students stumbling their way toward downtown. A car drove past with their windows down, blasting a song that was one of Vec’s favorites from her high school years, and she caught herself softly singing along to the tune long after the car passed by, all the way to the front door of the tiny auto shop.

Removing her cap and scrunchie, she shook her hair out, fluffing it with her fingers and adjusting her glasses on her nose. Cupping a hand around her eyes and peering through the glass of the front door, she saw him propped on a stool behind the counter, flipping through some sort of book she couldn’t quite make out, that soft brown hair tied up out of his eyes.

The cutie with the bandana.

Josh had kept himself occupied by flipping through old comic books his boss kept in his office and crafting little sketches on a notepad as he eagerly awaited for her to return. The sketches were small but chaotic, the random words scribbled alongside them acting as triggers for him to remember important details later.

This cutie with the bandana was an auto mechanic by day and inventor by night.

She knocked softly on the glass, tapping it gently with her knuckle as to not spook him. Peeling his peepers away from his half-completed drawing, he nearly lit up when he saw it was her standing there on the sidewalk, giving him a small wave and a smile. He quickly shoved the notepad into his pocket and hopped off the stool, doing his best to keep his cool as he walked as to not appear too eager.

During those few seconds as he approached and opened the door, he was finally close enough for her to get a good look at his facial features. He had the cutest button nose, high cheekbones, and piercing eyes that were the most breathtaking shade of blue she’d ever seen. Vec had to clench her jaw and repeatedly swallow to keep herself from drooling.

Blue was her favorite color, it always had been. Now, she had yet another reason for it to be.

“Cutie with the bandana at your service,” he greeted with a smirk as he held the door open for her.

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she stepped inside, the chill of the evening Georgia air being cut off as he closed the door and the dread setting in at the realization that someone had told him about her earlier comments. “Oh God,” she groaned, rubbing between her eyebrows as embarrassment flooded her system at an overwhelming rate, “Jesus, I’m…God, I’m so sorry.” She sheepishly trailed behind him to the counter, keeping her gaze on her feet, practically stumbling over her words. “I, uh…I have a tendency to be very…forward. Christ, this is humiliating, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You know what you want, and you go for it. I like that.” Biting the inside of her bottom lip, an anxious habit of hers, she peeled her cerulean eyes from the floor, this time locking them with his. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was more than just butterflies. “My name’s Josh. Friends call me Scud.”

“Like ‘stud’?” Vec asked, and he nodded, “interesting. How’d you get that?”

“Could ask the same about—“ he paused to glance down at the form, as if he didn’t study her name on that paper over and over again before she arrived— “‘Vec.”

“I believe I asked you first.” Her tone was playful, oozing with flirtation, and that sweet pink flush returned to her cheeks yet again. Scud was never particularly drawn to pink, but now, it was quickly becoming his favorite color.

“And I asked you second,” he teased. He pulled a pen from his pocket and removed the cap with his teeth, spitting it onto the counter next to him. “How’s that saying go? ‘Second is the best, first is the worst?’”

Scud was immediately kicking himself for his choice of words. In his attempt to flirt back, he’d just sounded like an asshole.

“Wow,” she scoffed with a smirk, slightly wide-eyed and drawing the sounds of her words for dramatic effect.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He was nearly stumbling over his words to apologize, desperate to correct himself. “Probably should’ve went with ‘ladies first’.”

“It’s a nickname I got in high school. Too many Lydias in my class. What about yours?”

“Mine too.”

“Too many Lydias in your class as well?” If he wanted to tease, she could too.

“Cute and funny. You’re quite a combo,” Scud complimented as he worked at filling in the blank spaces on her form.

Vec ran a hand over her cheeks, attempting to hide that she was already turning red again. She could dish the flirtation on all day. Taking it, though, was a different story.

“So how come you didn’t just go by Stud?” Her eyes widened and immediately dropped to the counter, practically bugging out of her skull, and her jaw was on the floor. It was as if the words left her mouth on their own accord.

He was clearly reciprocating the flirting, but there was still something that felt wrong about it. He was still working, after all. She’d often fallen victim to being flirted with at her workplace, so she was well acquainted with the discomfort that came with that. Fearing she was crossing boundaries, she apologized once again. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

He found it endearing, flattering, and downright adorable, the way she couldn’t seem to stop herself from from being flirtatious, and Scud would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t help to boost his ego. A young woman comes in, and not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, but she was flirting with him? He was on cloud nine.

“Told you you don’t have to be sorry.” A sweet, boyish smile crossed his lips as their eyes locked again. He wanted to dive right into those crystal blue pools and never find his way back out. “So you like working as a nurse?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Your scrubs.” Scud gestured up and down her body with a nod, his gaze lingering on her curves for just a moment too long. Thankfully, not a moment long enough for her to notice.

A soft, amused chuckle trickled out from her half-smile, her eyes falling to the floor for half a second before meeting his again. Scud swallowed hard, his hand trailing to and holding his abdomen. The fluttering in his stomach was an unfamiliar sensation.

Was she making him nervous? He was a confident guy, albeit maybe a bit too confident at times. He wasn’t new to the world of women by any means and could often be a bit forward himself. He too knew what he wanted and would go for it. So what was with the butterflies?

“Oh no, not RN,” Vec replied, reaching into her pocket to pull out her badge, flexing her credentials, “MD.”

“Shit.” Scud’s stomach dropped, fearing his asinine assumption just ruined any chance he had with the beautiful doctor before him. “Fucking this up, aren’t I?”

She folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes, that sweet giggle traveling to his ears again. There was a glow radiating off of her. It was almost ethereal. “Now when did I say that?”

“So what kind of doctor are you?” Scud asked as he rotated the paper around to face her, tapping on the ‘signature’ line on the bottom with the tip of his pen.

“Trauma surgeon,” Vec explained as she dug around in her bag for her wallet, “emergency room. Bullet wounds, amputations, skin grafts, all that jazz.” Successfully finding her wallet, she handed over her card, their fingers barely grazing past each other.

Though their touch was small, the electricity that sparked between them could’ve lit the entire city of Atlanta.

“Damn,” Scud replied, swallowing hard once again and using his hand that wasn’t tapping keys on the register to steady himself on the counter. That brief moment when their fingers touched turned his knees to jelly. “You’ve probably seen some stuff, huh?”

“You could say that.” Her knees had also turned to jelly, and the butterflies in her stomach amped up, having made a home in her stomach from the moment she walked in the door. She was just a little better at maintaining her composure.

Taking the pen off the counter and twirling it in her fingers, a phenomenal idea crossed her mind. She nodded to the empty space behind him as she signed off on the form. “You got a sticky note back there, Josh?”

His name sounded so sweet when it dripped off her lips like that.

Hoping this was going in the direction he thought, he pulled his notepad from his pocket, tearing one of the small pages out and sliding it across the counter to her. “Thank you.”

As he ran her card and printed the receipt, she etched out a series of numbers and some words before folding the sheet in half and holding it out to him. “What’s that?”

“My number. For if you’d like to…continue this conversation. And you’re not off the market.” She let her fingers linger on his for just a second before pulling away, taking her sweet time in doing so. The thumping in Scud’s chest was now ringing in his ears.

“Been on the market a while. Surprised someone like yourself is too.” Slipping the note into his jacket pocket, he slid the receipt across the counter to her. “Just need your John Hancock and you’re good to go.”

As she signed off on the paper, blood continued to flow to her cheeks despite her best efforts to prevent it. However, the embarrassment of turning pink only made it worse, and it didn’t help that Scud was taking notice. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“Do what a lot?” She hoped feigning ignorance might deter him from inquiring further, but when he motioned to his own cheeks with his finger, she knew it was to no avail. “Oh, yeah. Unfortunately, I do.”

“Well it’s cute, so keep it up.” Naturally, that only made the baby pink of her cheeks darken into a crimson red. Scud couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander and picture her with those flushed cheeks in a more…nefarious situation.

He took her receipt off the counter and chuckled under his breath at her signature as he placed it into the register and locked it. Doctor’s handwriting. “C’mon, car’s out back. I’ll walk you.”

She slowly, cautiously stepped around the side of the counter, ensuring to keep at least a few feet of distance between them. Sure, he was cute, and yes, she absolutely loved that he was reciprocating the flirting, but he was still a stranger. She kept one hand in her pocket, fiddling with her canister of pepper spray, the other free and at her side.

“I’m not gonna bite,” he promised, “don’t even have a bark you gotta worry about.” As she took a couple of small steps closer, he put his hands in the air, interlocking his fingers around the back of his neck. “Can keep them like this if it makes you feel better.”

She nodded, and keeping a hand on her pepper spray, she followed him down a tiny hallway, still making sure to keep a couple of feet between them. She had a good judge of character, it was one of her strongest skills, and her gut only had good things to say about this guy. Even then, especially as a woman, one could never be too cautious.

The bitter evening air greeted them as Scud opened the back door to the building, holding it open for her with his body. He kept his hands locked behind his head, only removing them once they were at her car to reach into his pocket and hand her her key. Their fingers brushed again, and this time, he kept his in place for a few moments, letting the electricity dance between them. She kept her eyes on them, watching him toy with the key resting in her hand, and the same soft, amused giggle from earlier emerged from her chest once more. His baby blues were locked on her, watching strands of her black-as-night hair fall into her eyes and using every fiber of his being to restrain himself from reaching out to brush them away.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you, Josh,” Vec practically cooed, her lashes fluttering softly as her eyes flicked back to meet his, “thank you for staying. And I, uh, hope to hear from you. Sooner rather than later.”

That adorable, boyish smile returned to his face. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and folded his arms across his chest. “The pleasure was all mine. Now get home safe.”

“You too,” she replied.

Waltzing back toward the shop with a newfound pep in his step, Scud was far too eager to wait until he was back inside before tearing open the note she’d written for him. Her doctor handwriting was more legible here, and she’d clearly taken time to make sure it came out nice and pretty.

Vec 555-555-5555 Thanks for being my something good today :)

She tossed her bag in the passenger seat, removing her glasses for a moment and running her hands over her face. Exhaustion was beginning to set in, the weight of sleep heavy in her under-eyes, and her attempts to hold back her yawns were to no avail. As she buckled herself in and started her car, her phone vibrated in the cupholder. Normally, she wasn’t one to answer calls from unknown numbers, but her gut feeling told her exactly who to expect on the other end. And it was correct.

“You said soon. This soon enough?”

“I’d say so,” she chuckled as she slipped her glasses back onto her nose and adjusted them. She covered her mouth to stifle yet another yawn. “How about I text you in the morning? I gotta be up at 5.”

“I expect no later than 5:15,” he joked. The beaming smile on his face was evident in the tone of his voice.

“You have my word,” she promised. Vec always kept her word. It was worth more than gold to her.

After hanging up, she flipped to her messages to send one last text to Georgie before heading home, her cheeks already beginning to ache as her big, goofy grin somehow continued to grow larger.

Vec: So something good came out of this shitty day :)

QOTU taglist: @ripleyswife

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

Hit me up if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist(s)

[nightlightbrothel]

This guy definitely got into the roleplay, though he was still thankfully able to respect boundaries. Even went as far as to ask if she had a preference where he came. Aqua would answer, but in the form of submissive begging to keep true to her character.

"P-Please... Cum all over me, Master! I would love it... If you covered me in your hot, sticky spunk!" Aqua could handle it if he came inside, especially because she was on the pill, but always preferred her clients to be wearing a condom if they were going to do so. Just a matter of personal preference, really.

"See to it that you don't." Was Jay's growled response, though he *was* pleased he apparently hadn't hit too hard.

His thrusts got faster and rougher, the slapping of flesh on flesh creating a weird symphony with the pair's cries of pleasure.

"G-getting close, maid. Should I simply mark you again, or give you the undeserved honor of carrying my child?" The Unovan rumbled after about 15 minutes of fucking.

Again, each knew the other had taken steps to prevent a pregnancy, so it really didn't matter to him.

[sassenashsworld]

Nick stuck in his office

(mew?)

The List

It’s been a while. It’s been a long time since things have changed.

Things.

Nick leans on the back of his chair, gazing out in the void. He remembers when the first change occurred in his life. The first moment he felt something... abnormal. It was the very moment when the door to vault 114 opened, not on a thug but on a vault dweller. A vault dweller in a vault has something funny in itself in the situation he was in. Then he find that this very person, as they went out of their way to get his poor little synth ass out of his dead end, was also getting the Minutemen out of the dust of their oblivion.

They had come a long way. On the trail of Kellogg, Virgil... the Institute... And some detours along the way to help all the poor lost souls they encounter.

"Nick, did you finish with the Fyfe file?" suddenly asks his secretary, Ellie.

Nick quickly returns to the present, startled from his reverie.

“Uh, yeah..yeah.” He stands up from his chair and crosses the office to Ellie, placing some sheets of paper onto her desk. “Sorry for that; I wasn’t paying attention.”

"Obviously. But, eh, that's my job to keep you back on track. What do you think?"

“Yeah, yeah, I know...” Nick shakes his head and sighs, “Just thinkin’...” He glances at the file on Ellie’s desk. “...the Fyfes are a real piece of work, huh?”

“Yes.” She looks down at his notes. “They had what they were seeking—never listening to their son.”

“Damn fools for not listenin' to the damn kid,” Nick mutters under his breath, leaning against Ellie’s desk.

"But what a chance they fall on the Great Synth Detective and his assistant," she remarks, a thin smile on her face. “Where is Sole anyway?”

Nick tries to keep his voice unwavering.

“Sole’s gone to meet with Preston about something. Didn’t tell me much, but somethin’ about a missing persons case, I think?”

"And they didn't ask you to tag along?" Is surprise Ellie.

And Nick, as well. He was surprised that Sole didn't ask him. Sole always asks him since... since they first met and teamed up. Never seems to be a day since when Nick doesn't travel with Sole. Or Sole works with Nick.

Nick frowns, feeling a tinge of confusion and worry in his heart.

“Yeah… Guess they didn’t... thought... it's... odd.”

Usually, Sole always wants him to tag along if they’re going off on some sort of case, especially if it was a missing persons case. They’d always ask him to join them if that was the case. Why didn't they invite him this time?

“Maybe they wanted to just chat with the Garvey man alone...” Nick tries to offer as an explanation to Ellie’s words, but he can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

Why hadn’t Sole asked him to come along?

Nick tries to shake off the resentment that is trying to make room in his core. Or his processor. He still has difficulty locating his emotions in a... synthetic body... with a human mind.

One soul?

Sole seems adamant on the subject. Since they and Nick closed the case of Eddie Winter, Sole no longer lets Nick down talk himself. Nick can hardly use self-mockery without the General riding on their big horse about it.

Nick lets a small chuckle escape his lips as he thinks of the many times Sole had reprimanded him for speaking down upon himself. He can practically hear their voice scolding him, their hand on their hip, their eyebrow raised, disapproving of his cynical tongue.

Ellie raises an eyebrow at his chuckle.

"Some funny though?"

Nick shakes his head, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Just remembering some of the times I’ve been scolded by the Sole Survivor for my cynical tongue. Always gettin’ on my ass for my bad habits.”

"Just good they do," she answers, getting her attention back on the paper to classify. "At least, you listen to them."

Yes. Nick can't deny it. He listens to them. He is even surprising himself. He never really listens since... since he wakes up as a synth. How could a human relate to him? He even attempted to reason with Sole a few times, but his friend held a completely different perspective on the situation. Nick had really a hard time wrapping his mind around the stubbornness of Sole on this matter.

"I don't need to be a synth with the long-lost memory of a man to know you ARE your own man and a good one. And that you deserve all the better."

He closes his eyes and sighs; he can hear Sole’s voice in his mind, their words echoing around his programming.

“Damn stubborn bastard,” he mumbles quietly, but he has a small smile on his face as the memories of his friend and all the things they’ve done together flood his mind.

The case of Jack Cabot... The Institute... The Railroad... Nick and Sole had been through so much together; he’d grown so accustomed to their presence... He wondered if his friend was doing alright.

Ellie returns her gaze to him.

"You are worse than ever, you know? I am accustomed to your zone-out and your self-mumbling. But today, you really appear elsewhere. You sure are alright?"

Nick doesn’t answer for a few seconds, silently contemplating Ellie’s question. Was he alright? He couldn’t be sure of that for himself.

“Yeah, yeah… everything’s fine.  Just... ah... somethin’ on my mind,” he responds after a while, still remaining leaned against her desk.

His secretary frowns, but Nick shakes his head and returns to his own desk, looking in his drawer for a pack of cigarettes.

“It’s dinnertime. You should get something to eat,” he recommends to his secretary.

"Is there another elegant method to request solitude for your menacing thoughts?"

Nick grimace. He could not say that his thoughts are dark. Just... strange... almost nostalgic.

“Oh, shut up, I don’t need you fussin’ and prying into my thoughts,” Nick mutters, half jokingly.

He fishes a cigarette out of his pack, places it between his lips, and lights it. His eyes wander around the room, not focusing on or even really looking at anything in particular.

The young woman sighs and gets up.

“Need anything? A schedule with Arturo for a tune-up?”

Arturo no longer regularly performs Nick's tune-ups. Sole is so much a hell of an engineer. Arturo has made it, but Sole is just... a high class over.

Nick shakes his head, taking a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke billow from his mouth.

“No, no. I’m fine.”

His eyes wander back over to the door, as if expecting it to burst open and for his friend to stride in, a smile on their face. But there was no such thing. Nick tries not to feel disappointed. He had no reason to. He glances at the clock above the door. When would they be back?

Ellie finally leaves the office, letting Nick all alone. Why did the detective feel like that? What is he feeling exactly? When did it really have begun? He is really puzzled about himself just now.

Being alone with his thoughts was not a beneficial thing in the end. He couldn’t keep his mind from going over the times he and Sole have spent together; he couldn’t stop wondering why they hadn’t asked him to come along on their trip to the Commonwealth, and he kept worrying something terrible was going to happen to them.

Nick lets out a heavy, frustrated sigh. He’d probably just sit here worrying his ass off until they return.

Nick sighs again and takes a seat in his chair. He takes another drag from his cigarette; the smoke plumes out of his mouth.

He should be used to being alone. He’d been alone for the most of his existence, only really having Ellie and the occasional client to talk to.

He’d gotten used to having Sole around, though, he’d gotten so used to having them near and always around.

Damn it, why did he feel so worried and weird about them leaving?

The door opens again, and Nick doesn't even bother to look in it's direction at first.

“Forget somethin', Ellie?” He asks, taking another drag from his cigarette before finally looking up towards the door.

He quickly stops himself before his next sentence when he sees that it’s not Ellie who has returned.

“Sole...” Nick mutters, feeling slightly surprised and confused.

His coolant as his processor speed up slightly, which he tried to ignore. He didn’t understand why it did that, but it usually does in situations like this. He places his cigarette down.

“Nick, sorry. I know you should have worried, but I will explain you all,” they swiftly tell him with a smile.

Nick can’t help but smile back at them, their smile brightening his entire world. The strange anxiety, worry, and confusion he was feeling just a few minutes ago seems to melt away. His circuits warm up at the sight of his friend; his core is almost leaping, his fans drifting up faster and faster. Damn it, why did they always have this effect on him?

Why did they make him feel like this?

Nick clears his throat after a few seconds.

“Ah… welcome back. Thought you were Ellie for a minute, heh…”

He stands up from his chair and approaches them, stuffing his hands into his trench coat pockets.

And Sole is just eager to tell him all they’ve gone through, as always. And Nick is just eager to hear it all.

As Always.

And as Nick stands in front of them, he realizes just how much he’s missed them, how much he’s missed spending time with them and talking with them just like this.

Their smile, their laugh, their eyes...

Damn it. He missed them more than he liked to admit.

And as his friend brightly smiles up at him, Nick finally understands.

Everything falls into place.

All his questioning finds an answer.

As the smile of Sole warms up all his old, beaten-up circuits, Nick understands that the reason why he is so trouble lately is because Sole has finally given something to his synth life he never had before.

Nick is happy.

[incomprehensiblegiberish]

tired of doing an uphill climb only to fall back where i started

[oil-bh]

(Note: I'm using the pronouns I headcanon for the characters. Hank: they/any, they/them preference. Jebediah: he/him. Tricky: it/any. Phobos: He/Him. The Auditor: any. 2B: he/it)

THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY... I think about the Sleepwalkers a lot. My self insert is also Sleepwalker (who managed to keep their sanity and be found by some people and brought back to health) because that project specifically just rots my mind so so much. Like it's actually fucking horrifying when you think about it for more than 20 seconds.

I think it makes a lot of sense in the worldbuilding for madcom if Hank was formerly a Sleepwalker - Hank's shown repeatedly to have very high-level combat skills and to be able to survive things that would kill other grunts, like that train sequence with Tricky. Additionally, in the game, Sleepwalkers get better at combat every time they die, and Hank seems to do similarly, improving and developing after each instance of dying. The only difference is that Hank isn't connected to the self-destructing head gear, and their sanity is very much debatable, like the Sleepwalkers.

Sleepwalkers were created by Jeb as a means to get Project Zed shut down or at least abandoned, but Phobos trained them to be His private army instead. I feel like that point especially could explain some of Hank's relationships with other characters:

Jebediah - Jeb and Hank have a long history of absolutely hating each other. Jeb hates how violent Hank is, and view them as a threat to the armageddon that he thinks he needs to bring about. However, in the Sleepwalker Hank HC, I think this can be expanded on a LOT. Jeb has a long and negative history with Phobos, the Zeds, etc. I think that seeing Hank running around and killing people would lead to Jeb viewing Hank as a remnant of Phobos, even after the events of MPN. I think that could be a key motivating factor for his behaviours of targeting Hank and his brief alliance with the AAHW. I think it could also feed into how his character is pretty implied to be delusional and how he might be having stress/trauma responses to seeing Hank, thinking that Hank could be a Generation One grunt with the ability to ascend like Phobos tried to do.

Tricky - Formerly being one of the Nexus Scientists and now being a Zed itself, I think Tricky has a hell of a lot of motivation to hate Hank. I think it'd also be interesting if Tricky sort of like... projected? onto Hank. It has a history of saying things like "you don't kill clown, clown kills you" and while that could be brushed off as a rivalry dynamic or something, I think it'd made more sense if Tricky's former status as a Nexus scientist has rendered its mind more intact than other Zeds, and therefore intact enough to feel a sort of self-loathing or twisted perception of feeling inferior as a Zed and how Sleepwalkers were presented as so much better than Zeds were.

AAHW - Okay, hear me out on this one. I mentioned briefly that I HC the AAHW as a branch that split off from Nexus Core, and I want to elaborate on that. I think Nexus/Phobos realized how dangerous the Sleepwalkers could be if they weren't controlled, since they're always being fed combat data. That said, I think that after Hank somehow got loose or otherwise separated and no longer under Nexus'/Phobos' control, they started training people to seek out and hunt down Hank. Those people then later formed the AAHW and then fully split off from Nexus either due to Phobos' death or due to the Auditor inserting himself into their ranks, eventually twisting some of their morals to suit her ideas.

SQ and 2B - I really, really think that 2B was a former Nexus scientist and not just an ex-AAHW member. I headcanon him to have overseen some of the experiments in Nexus Core before being transferred to what would later become the AAHW. I think it never had the same Hank-centric plans of capture and/or destruction, but that he still had a lot of interest in Hank. Enough to possibly be connected to experiments like them to have gotten loose or escaped. I really think that he was behind these sorts of things as one of the original Dissenters and with its early ideas that would later found Status Quo.

Anyway hehe... that's my little ramble. I should seriously doodle more of this HC and the other HCs that take place in my personal AU/interpretation of Madness Combat. Have some extra little tidbits for this HC!! :

Hank is semi-verbal (like me!) because speech wasn't prioritized in the Sleepwalker Program.

They also don't have many general education skills (reading, writing, math, etc) for similar reason as above.

Hank goes into a dissociated autopilot state sometimes during combat.

The goggles and mask feel comforting and familiar to the mask that they wore during the experiments.

Hank has an interest in non-combat things such as guitar lessons and volleyball tryouts, but has a difficult time picking them up because they're so accustomed to combat.

They're somniphobic and will often push themself as far as physically possible to avoid sleeping; often 2B is the one relaxing them into resting. This is why Doc is stated to be the only one to know Hank's soft side, their weaknesses.

Hank developed DPDR as a result of the Sleepwalker Project, since that half-awake and half-asleep state suspended their brain into dissociative states and experiencing reality in a foggy way.

Can you tell that I think about this ALL of the time...

I need to figure out how to draw Hank 😭😭 my headcanon for them is that they were a Sleepwalker and somehow managed to get separated from the Nexus stuff, and that because they were a Sleepwalker, it’s the cause of all their combat skills and why they just randomly started killing in the first episode, and also the general violence… and then maybe that led to a faction of Nexus Core becoming the AAHW (also a headcanon that the two groups were affiliated at some point if not from the same original group and later divided) to take Hank down because they are watching the consequences of their actions via Hank. I’m very tired and in a time cramp so this isn’t very cohesive but Imve been thinking of this headcanon for years

[theirloveisgross]

.

[hedgehog-moss]

I asked a friend to go pick some mint while I went to the greenhouse to get lemon balm, for our herbal tea, and soon after she left she called from the garden "How do I tell the mint and stinging nettle apart in the dark...?" then immediately added "You're about to say the mint smells minty while the stinging nettle stings. Don't!!" and it made me smile and I wished I could take a screenshot of these words, just to keep a little written trace of this uneventful evening. Sure I can write it down (as I am doing), but then I felt wistful about all the other trivial exchanges I don't get to archive. I know with texts and such a lot of them are in written form nowadays and can be saved, but I've always wanted to save everything. I think from now on I'm going to ask my friends to take a monastic vow of silence when they come to my house so they'll have to write everything down, preferably on stone tablets so computer issues and house fires can't make their words disappear. Yes. This way I will finally become cool and laid-back about memory and loss and the ephemeral nature of existence.

[bi-writes]

thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)

just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.

it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.

and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.

maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.

you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.

or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.

because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.

so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.

"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"

"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."

"tha' right?"

"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.

"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"

not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.

"h-how to be a good girl."

and you think you feel him smile.

[cinnammonfairy]

⌗ hybrids – f! cat x doberman ghost! + heat + virginity loss + squirting + implied pregnancy/breeding ⋆˙⟡

where you go into heat, and your not-so-new friend simon helps you.

when price finally brought simon home, you did not take it all too kindly. only familiar with the presence of price and few other hybrids (being a house cat and all, always preferring to stay home), you grew uptight at the new imposing presence at your home. you knew price was only trying to look out for you by gifting you a companion, someone you could cling to when he was away, yet he also knew how shy you were too which could translate to unwelcoming behaviour towards those who are unacquainted with you.

simon having been briefed by price of your shy tendencies played along, preferring to wait until you grew accustomed to his presence around the house. which admittedly took... quite a while. price having been home for the start of simon's stay to get you on friendly terms did little to help, only making you ever so clingier.

when it came to just the both of you within the confines of your home, you avoided him with an admirable amount of effort. he knew it wasn't that you disliked him, you just haven't gotten to know him and how could you when you'd scramble if he walked into a room you were currently in? or if he'd be leaning on the doorframe of your shared bathroom waiting for you to finish your lengthy baths, the scent of your bathbomb wafting through the crack of the doorway your humming gleefully at the warmth of the water clear to his impeccable hearing, doberman hybrid and all does little to quell his ever growing fascination in you.

the week leading up to your heat (not that he knew), was filled with uncommon behaviour from you, once an early riser now you woke later into the day, your sweet scent heightened keeping him alert of your whereabouts throughout the house. your usually energetic self, that always found a way to keep busy around the house also grew tired easier, which was how he found you sprawled out on the couch late at night, a show you were keen on running on the tv. gathering your weak form in his arms, he lifted you up bridal style making sure to cradle your head in his arm.

your eyes opened briefly, jolting awake as you realized who was currently holding you and walking you towards your bedroom, before you gave in to the lethargy that seemed to engulf your body. letting him carry you up the stairs, his scent overwhelming your senses leaving your body the slightest bit feverish.

"i don't feel so good." your words coming out barely more than a whisper into the chilly night air, lights dimmed out due to the hour.

"i can see that, let me take care of you yeah? " his arms wrapping tighter around your form as he rounds the corner to your bedroom, tucking you in, and closing the door softly behind him before placing a call to price.

"...the date of her heats are usually irregular, but she's probably going into one soon." price's voice crackles through the phone speaker, as simon's brow furrows.

"what can i do to help her?" simon's reply earns a small huff from price, who's answer has simon's cock growing hard in his trousers imagining you begging for him.

"you can help her but only if she asks, she probably will though. god knows you feel much better than her dildo does."

the next morning he was greeted with the overwhelming scent of your slick, your warm body atop him, bare tits pressed against his chest, his blanket pushed aside so your wet little pussy could rub on his still covered hard on. every pass of his cock spreading open your pretty pussy, his tip catching onto your clit creating pleasurable friction.

"what's all this about angel? where did my shy girl go hm?"

"m' sorry si, need you..." his hands go to guiding your hips, as they grew sloppier. your wetness creating a patch on his boxers outlining his hard cock.

"s' alright pretty, i've got you." tipping your chin up to meet his gaze as he connects your lips to his, softly pecking them as a form of reassurance. price said to take things slow and he promised to try, you had no qualms kissing him back so sweetly as he cradled your cheek in his palm. with your pussy still rubbing on his cock, he moved you to lay below him lifting his body enough to peel his boxers off.

spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt, little hole twitching and leaking slick. your little clit glistening in the early morning sunrise, as he circles it softly with the head of his cock, dragging it down to your pool of slick and up to nudge against your clit, swiping it back and forth as you writhed on the bed moaning for him to,

"put it in now please si."

"so wet angel, i could just slip right in yeah?"

"'mhm! s' wet for you."

"such a good girl, so pretty for like this for me."

he positions the head of his cock on your hole, the both of you gasping as it enters. all the while rubbing your clit softly with his thumb, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. your pussy halfway enveloping his fat cock as your legs tremble softly, your hole clenching rhythmically at his intrusion. your hands go to his biceps as you feel the knot in your stomach growing ever so tighter, just from him putting his cock in. you've had a dildo and a couple pleasurable vibrators before to help you through your heat but never an actual cock, the feeling of his big cock entering your practically virgin hole was too much to bear, even more so as he rubbed at your clit so sweetly to build enough pleasure and wetness to take his cock. before you knew it, you were cumming hard on his cock a soft gasp left you as he worked you through your strong orgasm, clenching hard on his fat cock.

"so pretty... that was a nice one hm lovie, that feel good for your little pussy sweetheart yeah? y' love my fat cock stretching out your hole so much you can't help it huh."

"s' too big si..." you sobbed out as his fingers kept strumming your clit, prolonging your orgasm.

"you're taking it so well though sweetheart, i'm almost there baby. you can cum as much as you want angel."

your orgasm which left you wetter than before made it easier for him to ease his cock inside, groaning at your warmth as he bottomed out. he zoned in on where your eyes were currently resting, the filthy sight of your pussy plugged full of his cock as he took a testing shallow thrust, a mewl leaving your lips.

"your pussy's so pretty full of my cock sweetheart, you're taking it so well, 'm so proud baby."

"what do you say sweetheart?" he says, pulling his cock out halfway, watching as his cock slips out coated in your slick and cum.

"thank you si-i!" he slammed his hips once, again filling your pussy up full and catching you off guard.

his thrusts left you breathless as you looked into his eyes, pleading for anything and everything at all once. your current state of heat left your cheeks perpetually flushed which he found charming, your eyes fluttering, for someone who was practically begging to be fucked just this morning, he loved your sweet, shy and soft little mewls. slotting your lips together to meet for a kiss, one that you so kindly and eagerly return, he knows he's found your spot as a sweet little gasp leaves your lips. he rests his forehead to yours as you lock your feet on his back, your pussy clenching erratically as a telltale sign that you were approaching your orgasm.

"wanna cum si!"

"go ahead baby."

pulling out most of the way, he thrusts in to be met by a spurt of clear liquid splashing and splattering onto your stomach, his pelvis and abs. every time he pulls out the slightest bit to slam his cock back in to your tight squirting heat, he earns another splash of clear liquid that's prompted by his thrusts. the hot sight of you squirting uncontrollably whilst crying softly on his cock prompts his own orgasm, and pumping his load into you.

"made such a cute mess on my cock baby hm? my shy angel's a squirter huh?" he says as he pulls his cock out fully, rubbing his cock fast over your clit to be met by more messy squirts, his thick load now seeping out of your little hole.

"m s-sorry si, it's embarrasing." you choke out amidst sobs where he gathers you in his arms, sitting up and places you on top of him. opening your legs to scoop up his leaking cum and shoving back into your hole, which makes you squeal.

"no need to be sorry sweetheart, 'm so glad i made you feel so good."

you hid your face in his neck as you sunk back down on his hard cock, seeing his cum leaking out of your pussy was an extremely erotic sight to him. your heat making you insatiable for the need of another orgasm.

"go ahead sweet girl, ride me baby, use me all you want."

and you do, if it wasn't evident enough with the protruding bump on your belly with a possessive hand resting over it upon price's return wasn't clear enough, you were having simon's pups.

☆ hi omg um this was just like something i spewed out from my brain deliriously over the course of a couple midnights i acc kinda wanna continue it or make a couple parts of it ... haven't rlly made an intro post but i'm planning to soon .ᐟ ♡ also reqs are open but i'm having midterms rn so if you do plan to leave anything on there might not get around to it for a while :(

ᡣ𐭩 header by cafekitsune .

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

The thing with the Mari Lwyd, though, is that it's being... I don't know, 'appropriated' is the wrong word, but certainly turned into something it isn't.

Thing is, this is a folk tradition in the Welsh language, and that's the most important aspect of it. I feel partly responsible for this, because I accidentally became a bit of an expert on the topic of the Mari Lwyd in a post that escaped Tumblr containment, and I clearly didn't stress it strongly enough there (in my defence, I wrote that post for ten likes and some attention); but this is a Welsh language tradition, conducted in Welsh, using Welsh language poetic forms that are older than the entire English language, and also a very specific sung melody (with a very specific first verse; that's Cân y Fari). It is not actually a 'rap battle'. It's not a recited poem. It is not any old rhyme scheme however you want.

It is not in English.

Given the extensive and frankly ongoing attempts by England to wipe out Welsh, and its attendant cultural traditions, the Mari is being revived across Wales as an act of linguistic-cultural defiance. She's a symbol of Welsh language culture, specifically; an icon to remind that we are a distinct people, with our own culture and traditions, and in spite of everyone and everything, we're still here. Separating her from that by removing the Welsh is, to put it mildly, wildly disrespectful.

...but it IS what I'm increasingly seeing, both online and in real world Mari Lwyd festivals. She's gained enormous pop-culture popularity in recent years, which is fantastic; but she's also been reduced from the tradition to just an aesthetic now.

So many people are talking/drawing about her as though she's a cryptid or a mythological figure, rather than the folk practice of shoving a skull on a stick and pretending to be a naughty horse for cheese and drunken larks. And I get it! It's an intriguing visual! Some of the artwork is great! But this is not what she is. She's not a Krampus equivalent for your Dark Christmas aesthetic.

I see people writing their own version of the pwnco (though never called the pwnco; almost always called some variant on 'Mari Lwyd rap battle'), and as fun as these are, they are never even written in the meter and poetic rules of Cân y Fari, much less in Welsh, and they never conclude with the promise to behave before letting the Mari into the house. The pwnco is the central part to the tradition; this is the Welsh language part, the bit that's important and matters.

Mari Lwyd festivals are increasingly just English wassail festivals with a Mari or two present. The Swansea one last weekend didn't even include a Mari trying to break into a building (insert Shrek meme); there was no pwnco at all. Even in the Chepstow ones, they didn't do actual Cân y Fari; just a couple of recited verses. Instead, the Maris are just an aesthetic, a way to make it look a bit more Welsh, without having to commit to the unfashionable inconvenience of actually including Welsh.

And I don't really know what the answers are to these. I can tell you what I'd like - I'd like art to include the Welsh somewhere, maybe incorporating the first line of Cân y Fari like this one did, to keep it connected to the actual Welsh tradition (or other Welsh, if other phrases are preferred). I'd like people who want to write their version of the pwnco to respect the actual tradition of it by using Cân y Fari's meter and rhyme scheme, finishing with the promise to behave, and actually calling it the pwnco rather than a rap battle (and preferably in Welsh, though I do understand that's not always possible lol). I'd like to see the festivals actually observe the tradition, and include a link on the booking website to an audio clip of Cân y Fari and the words to the first verse, so attendees who want to can learn it ahead of time. I don't know how feasible any of that is, of course! But that's what I'd like to see.

I don't know. This is rambly. But it's something I've been thinking about - and increasingly nettled by - for a while. There's was something so affirming and wonderful at first about seeing the Mari's climb into international recognition, but it's very much turned to dismay by now, because she's important to my endangered culture and yet that's the part that everyone apparently wants to drop for being too awkward and ruining the aesthetic. It's very frustrating.

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[hoshigray]

Hiiii, I have a request- could you do like jealous or after arguement smex- you can pick any sort of of storyline or any jjk character. (prefferbly a character like sukuna or toji because i feel like they'd be kind mean about it)

Tyy

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oof, i think after an argument, sex w/kuna would go crazyyy (esp true form! like yikes)

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - clitoral play (grinds, swipes, and pinches) - biting - pinching - degradation (bitch, whore) - monster-fucking (he got 2 dicks) - double penetration; anal and vaginal - backshots/doggy position - pet names ([little]dove, my wife, pet, woman) - multiple orgasms - mention of drool/spit and blood.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

You dare avoid him? The King of Curses? Did the screws in your brain finally come loose, and now you’ve gone mad?

Ryōmen Sukuna rarely lets things slide. He is considered the top dog of the cursed Jujutsu world – he doesn’t find himself bowing down to things because things are supposed to bow to him. Anything and everything doesn’t go unnoticed under his gaze, as that’s the order of things that are supposed to happen.

And this philosophy doesn’t stop with you — his little dove.

Being engaged to a human spouse already raises flags of inconsistency. It isn’t rare for you and Sukuna to argue; the workers of the fortress where you reside can attest to this. The love is there, but Sukuna expects you to understand your standing in this marriage. You may be what he always keeps by his side. However, even you shouldn’t overstep him so carelessly.

Nonetheless, your humanness continues to poke him; your resilience is a thorn to your giant husband’s side. The more disagreements you clash with him, the bolder you’ve become in your standing, which makes the cursed man proud, albeit prefers it wasn’t directed towards him. 

And now, after he puts his thunderous foot down and shuts you up with your bickering, you decide to be courageous enough to turn your back on him? Him? Your betrothed? He couldn’t believe what he saw; your expression molded to neutrality before you turned on your heel and headed somewhere away from him. And then you don’t respond when he calls out to you — the absolute nerve.

Oh, you knew Sukuna wasn’t the one to be daring with, especially when you think you can get the last laugh. So, it would be best if he corrected your foolishness. 

“—Dahhh! Su’kunaa, stop! Let go—Ohhh!”

“Shut your mouth. Think you’re in any position to order me now, huh?”

He has you pinned to the tatami flooring, his upper hand on your head to keep your cheek printed on the mat despite your cries. The upper right hand has a good hold on your waist while his lower right hand grips your ankle to keep your legs spread. And with the lower left, he uses it to tease and toy with your chasm. The mouth of his chasm laps around your labia to lick the fluids that coat your slit while his middle and ring fingers grind on your sore clitoris.

This is your punishment: your husband reprimanding you as he gesticulates around your body. You can cry and holler all you want, squirm out of his hold when knowing your efforts are futile. He doesn’t care because he knows that he will make this point to you no matter what.

The tongue of his palm easily swallows your essence, pushing the muscle into your cunt to fuck you. You nearly choke on spit, sensing the considerable muscle swirl around your insides and graze your walls. “Mmph! Oh, fuck—Nnnm! Sukuna, no! I just came seconds ag—Oooh!”

“Do I care?” He raises his sole pink brow, four red eyes scanning your figure, writhing because of his touch. “You will cum however many times I say, my wife.” He draws out the last words to your ear, enjoying how small you appear under his massive shape. 

He lives for your shrieks, your pitch going higher and higher with every flick of his tongue. Swiping your clit makes it harder to maintain balance, your resolve slipping through your fingers with every push and pull of the abnormal tongue.

“Hahhh, ahhhshit, shiiiit,” your eyebrows scrunch together, nails purchasing on the tatami mat beneath you, which you’re sure your scratches would cause damage. Again, not that your jerk of a spouse would care; he is probably getting a kick out of you losing your poise because of him. “Ooh, ‘Kunaa, y’re going too fast…Nnnn !”

“Oh? Does the dove think I’m going too fast?” Sukuna licks the helix of your ear tantalizingly slow, and you gasp when he bites it while the mouth of his palm sloppily kisses the entrance of your vagina. “You wish to cum again, woman?”

You nod hurriedly, his chuckle rumbling to the core of your heart. The hand on your waist comes up to smack your ass, denting the skin by piercing his fingertips. You howl in pain, “Yesss, I wanna cum again!” 

“Hmph, no,” he removes his hand from your throbbing folds before slapping it; the abrupt action erupts a choked sob. Screams fly out at the pinch of his fingers on your delicate bud; the pain from your chasm stings, making your head pound. “You’re not some whore who gets to cum when they want; you’re mine, and cumming without my permission will get you into predicaments worse than this. Are we clear, pet?”

You had no choice in the matter, propping your ass up and your face down, forcing you to take his two cocks with both of your holes. 

“Aiishhh, oh Lord, Shhlow down! I’m t’oo full…!” 

“Mmnn, khheh, I bet you are, grippin’ on my cocks like a real bitch in heat…”

His lower hands keep hold of your hips, keeping you glued to his pelvis as he pistons his fat dicks into your ass and vagina. The tip brushes on your inner walls, and you mewl at every push as the girth stretches your caves. His upper hands keep you held down to the floor, submitting you to his robust stature that easily swallows your small frame.

Your face is still on the floor, drool trickling down your lips as ineligible babbles seep out. “Nnmahh, ahhaa…!” God, he puts so much strength on your poor body; the inability to move or move away from him keeps you immovable for him. 

Sukuna’s pace is unforgiving, propelling himself into your leaky wetness with no remorse. The fact that he has you come two times already doesn’t concern him; if anything, it aids him in pushing to and fro from your tight cunt. He bites his lip from how your rear contracts around him—so snug for his dual limbs as if you’d milk him dry.

“Fsshoo, ohhmy Go—Daah!” A hand finds its way to the left wrist on your shoulder. “Ohh, ‘Kunaa!”

Your wails are broken when he bends down; the added weight is so lethal that you might end up being pressed and being one with the tatami mat. “Hmm? What is it, woman?”

“—Ahhck! Fuuuhuck, pleaseee, can I pwease cu–Uhhmm?!”

You make him snicker, pulling back his rhythm to implement slow yet harsh ruts to your openings while throwing a slap to your asscheek. “Why should I let you?” 

A tear rolls down your hot cheek. “Pleasee, forg’ve me! I shouldn’t have…turned my back on you...”

Crimson eyes narrow while observing the way your ass quakes from his powerful pounds. Sukuna then comes to your shoulder to bite on your shoulder, and of course, you yelp bitterly. The sight of his canines drawing blood from his mark dials his excitement. “Say it properly, pet,” he purrs as he licks the wound on your shoulder.

“Mmmm! Suk’naa, my Lord…”

“Hmm?” He cups and squeezes your cheeks with his upper left for access to kiss your neck, and the lower left snakes down to play with your clit again. You gasp from the sensation of the tongue of his stomach licking your back, the colossal muscle having you arch like a cat.

Rubs on your pearl have you squeaking for him and eyes rolling upward— all desperate and aching for your release that you could break any moment. “Forgive me for stepping out of line...Hooooh, I wanna cum on yer cocks,” you admit while swaying your hips. “Please allow me to cum.”

“Depends,” you gulp at his quick answer. “This will be your only kind warning for this; if you dare do it again, don’t ever think of asking me.” Sukuna licks your cheek before he chews on the flesh, your breath halting at the graze of his fangs. “Understand?”

Your brave side takes over to turn to him meekly, watery eyes meeting his fierce red ones – a good move on your part. “Yess, my husband…”

And he sneers. “There you go, little dove.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[nezuscribe]

life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.

so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.

and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.

he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.

gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.

and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.

maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.

you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never yell when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.

it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.

he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.

your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.

“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.

because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.

“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.

it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.

“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.

“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.

“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.

of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.

“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.

“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.

gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.

almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.

and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.

[cadaverousdecay]

🦇 the-birds-and-the-bats Follow

PLEASE keep your zoophagous familiars indoors or preferably, locked up in a sanitarium (it’s where they thrive, but if u can’t afford a sanitarium, a dank dungeon in your castle will work) but for the love of the devil your zoophagous familiar is not an outdoor familiar. no exceptions

🦇 the-birds-and-the-bats Follow

i am so tired of trying to explain to familiar owners in the notes that zoophagous familiars are not meant to roam free out of doors. they are a danger to themselves and their environment.

here is a link to a study done on the relationship between the rise of outdoor familiars in Essex and the decline of the sparrow population.

and no, your familiar is not the exception.

🧪 doctor-jekyllstein Follow

Lol OK op, anyway…

My zoophagous maniac only eats insects. She is doing absolutely no harm to the environment. Plus, she hates being cooped up in a cell, she always breaks out. She was meant to be outdoors, and she’s not a danger to birds! She’s a sweetheart! She would only hurt a fly. And the occasional spider haha

🦇 the-birds-and-the-bats Follow

where do i even start with this. first of all, i don’t know how to explain to you that insects are a part of the environment…

secondly, the nature of zoophagous familiars is that they will work their way up the food chain. you may only see her eating flies and spiders, but unchecked their eating habits go to birds and cats and sometimes even humans. if she is free roaming as you claim, she’s probably already consumed countless sparrows. KEEP HER INSIDE.

and finally, you mentioned she keeps breaking out of her cell. there could be a few reasons for this. either she’s not getting enough enrichment, or she’s being enthralled and called to her master. if it’s the latter, don’t worry about it <3 but if she keeps breaking out you need to make sure she’s getting the enrichment she needs. are you giving her sugar to lure her flies? a notebook to count the lives she’s consumed? space to ramble about her theories on blood being life?

keep her indoors. if she breaks out to monologue about rats she needs your attention. entertain her. but keep your zoophagous familiars indoors.

☠️ graveyard-smash Follow

of course it’s a mad scientist bitching about this post. mad scientists need to learn to keep their gloved hands out of the monster community

🦇 the-birds-and-the-bats Follow

hi op here, please don’t go leaving exclusionist comments on my post. mad scientists are known to toe the lines of monstrosity, often times themselves becoming monsters whether literally or socially, and very frequently are in contact with or creating monsters. this is a post about zoophagous familiars, which are notoriously looked after by some form of mad scientist/doctor. like it or not, there will always be mad scientists and doctors in the monster community.

🧛🏻 nose-fur-achoo Follow

my familiar isn’t zoophagous but they often leave my manor to lure me victims. is that okay?

🪦 undead-and-loving-it Follow

the reading comprehension on this site is bloody awful

🩸sleepalldaypartyallnight Follow

how dare you say blood is awful????!!!!