#but apparently not taking them makes you fucked weaker

[trlvsn]

i am facing the consequences of my own inactions take your meds i'm fucking serious

[id: a gif of the words "take your medication" written in red and on fire. end of id]

[rustyironskillet]

Day 12: Time Travel

“Sooooo Phantom, do ya have any siblings?” Kid Flash asked as he tried to make small talk with the newest recruit to the team.

A few days ago, Young Justice was called to a meeting by Batman where he introduced their new team mate, Phantom. Phantom was a tough looking dude, he was jacked and towered over them all, even Conner!

Batman didn’t give them much information about the guy but apparently John Constentine was the one who suggested him for the team since he needed “community service hours”.

The dude was currently drinking some soda next to the computer as Red Robin searched for any new info on their latest mission. He turned his attention away from the can, and stared at Wally, his red eyes piercing into his soul.

“Why?” 

“Well we are all about to go on a mission together and none of us really know you so I think it’d be best if we all got to know you better,” that was half true. Mostly Wally was just being nosey, but the dude really did make everyone nervous since he was this really tough dude with blood red eyes and apparently was here because John Constentine said he needed community service hours???? Constentine typically say some wild shit, but what the fuck do you mean by community service? Wally knows you can’t use those for school, he’s tried, and what else gave you community service? Juvie and prison!!

Phantom stared at him hard for a few seconds, his eyes searing into the back of Wally’s skull before saying, “Okay fine”.

The answer surprised everyone in the room, I mean the guy had barely even spoken the last few days and had rejected every question about his personal life.

“Depending on how you see it, I have 2 to 4 siblings”

“Is your father a serial adopter too?” Tim joked.

“Yes and no”

“Huh?” 

“It’s pretty complicated,” Phantom shrugged, seemingly deciding to end the conversation there and taking another swig of his drink.

However, Tim, out of annoyances of every attempt to get to know this jerk being thwarted and a bit of confidence his family was more complicated, decided to challenge Phantom’s statement.

“Ehh, it probably isn’t as complicated as my family, we got about 50 more siblings adopted each month, all with lots much trauma”

At this, Phantom narrowed his eyes at Tim.

“I see what your doing, your trying to get me to talk tell you guy more about my family by acting like yours are more insane”

“Am I?” Tim asked, trying to hide the shivers going down his spine from the way Phantom was staring at him.

Phantom to a huge swig of his soda, emptying it and throwing it into the garbage, before fully turning to Tim.  

“You’re lucky I am always good for competitions, now sit down this is going to take a bit”

Tim gladly obliged and soon everyone sat around Phantom as if it were storytime in kindergarten.

“Okay, so at first I only had an older sister and my parents” Phantom began, “but then they died because of a mistake I made and I had to move in with my evil godfather”

Megan raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t a godfather someone who is very close to the family? Why would your parents choose an evil person?”

“‘Cause my dad was oblivious to this and though they were good friends even though the dudes tried to kill him multiple times”

“I see,” Megan lowered her hand, no less confused.

“There I went mad with grief and had him remove my humanity and tried to kill all of humanity”

“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Wally joked.

“You tried to kill all of humanity? Why weren’t we told of this when it happened?” Kaldur'ahm asked.

“That was in a different timeline, I was a big enough problem that they gods tried to kill the younger version of me to stop me, so to avoid dying, my younger version decide to try to defeat me and the only reason he did was cause I was underestimating him,” Phantom emphasized the last part because he had to stress he didn’t not lose to a 15 year old boy because he was weaker than him.

“What happened next?,” Artemis asked, completely inraptured in the story.

“I was then imprisoned for sometime before escaping, causing problems and then realizing that causing younger mean the same pain I experienced won't bring my loved ones back,” Phantom continued to explain, “so I am now going to therapy, doing community service, and got the majority of my powers taken away”.

“Is your therapist open to seeing new patients?” Konner asked.

“No, but this timelines version of my sister is and she has a lot of experience so I can give you her number instead”

“Sure, that’ll work”

“Okay,” Phantom said before writing her number down and handing it to Konner, “The thing is I can’t go back to living with my real parents because they don’t know that I am Phantom so I have to go back to living this timelines version of my godfather”

“You gotta be kidding me” Tim groans.

“Exactly what I said!!” Phantom put his arm up defensively, “Fortunately, this version is a little better, he is no longer tiring to kill my dad and has stopped chasing after my mom, he did clone the other of me and now there is a genderbent version of him but my godfather treats her like a princess and will not stop spoiling her, which I am also guilty of”

Phantoms continues to explain more and in the back of Tim's mind he remembers he was supposed to be doing something but honestly this conversation was too good to care.

“Anyways that's how I technically have 2 to 4 siblings, Jazz and Elle are permanently my sisters and I love them so much, and even though the other Jazz is technically the same as this Jazz, I still think of her as someone else, someone I miss dearly. Also if I considered this Jazz my sister, I guess I’d have to considered the other me as my brother”

“Damn bitch your family is crazy” Wally said, happy he finally managed to get through Phantom’s tough skin.

As they finished up their storytime, the Zeta-tubes activated and Red Tornado and an upset looking Batman walked to the group.

“You all were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago”

[sashi-ya]

𝑶𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑭𝑰𝑿𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵. Roronoa Zoro x f! reader

🕊️ request: anon ⋆｡˚ hii sashiii I was wondering for ur jan events week if u could maybe write something with fem!reader with zoro?? like maybe 69 position or ass eating, I hc him as an ass man lol also he’s kinda rough hehe please and have a good week!! 🫶 🕊️ tw: mdni. modern au. zoro is a gym instructor/personal trainer. oral sex. 69. rough sex. face fuck. wc: 1,7k 🕊️ masterlist

You are never sure which are exactly the muscles you train the most when you do it with Roronoa Zoro. Whether it is your body’s, or your mouth’s. You, in any case, don’t mind… as long as your lips can surround his shaft, and your walls end up pleasantly stretched..

A drop of sweat runs through your temple, it slowly snakes down your mandible and into your neck. The more pull ups you do, the more you feel like your muscles burning. Your arms are sore, but you keep going.

“If you do two more series, I will fuck you harder this time” he said. And you are willing to have your personal trainer reward your efforts.

You grunt, pushing a little bit further to finish the series. You watch him through dizzy sight, sitting with his legs spread right in front of you and his back against the mirror of a lonely gym.

“Keep going” he orders.

“I… I am… I can’t-“ you stutter. You should have known; he always does this to you. He wants you to do more, and more.

“Keep going, I am helping you as long as you don’t stop” Zoro says, standing up and walking towards your almost limpid body.

You sigh, and moan louder. “Fuck!” you scream, feeling your arms trembling about to lose the grip.

 But his wide frame receives your weight. Like a kid on a piggy back ride, you rest your body on his shoulders. His huge hands squeeze your hips and ass.

“I got you…”

You try to excuse yourself for not being able to keep going, but you simply can’t as he commands you to stop whining. Zoro puts you down, still holding you by your waist.

“You did well, I know your limits. Don’t worry” he whispers, with raspy voice and sexy metallic eyes. His slightly calloused thumb plays with your lower lip as he makes you walk backwards. His big chest, his huge build, the caramel skin, and the scent of masculine musk mixed with iron, makes you weaker.

The back of your shins encounters with a pile of yoga mats and your chest, his hand pushing you against them. You fall back with widen eyes, but still knowing exactly what’s next…

You don’t stretch after training, you get stretched. Rough.

“Is it stretching time?” you purr. “In fact, whore” Zoro says, smirking with diabolic façade. That expression that makes you tremble, horny… extremely horny.

You gloat; taking your very sweaty compression top off. Your breasts feel freed, the marks on your skin slowly disappearing.

Zoro loses no time, and quickly lets his shorts fall down to the ground. He is not wearing -of course- a shirt. It’s hot enough to be covering his sweaty abs.

Hard, as always. Veiny and reddish. Deliciously looking, deliciously tempting. Your hands surrounding his length, taking the tip to your tongue’s one.

“What about letting me fuck your mouth and throat this time?” he asks, grabbing your messy ponytail for a better grip.

He pushes his dick against your lips, forcing them open until sliding it deep inside it reaches your throat. The first gag resonates against the mirrored walls of the gym; it’s pretty late, nobody comes around during these hours.

Your eyes go blank for a second as they fill with tears; you are sure the silhouette of his sex appears on your throat the more he thrusts into your mouth.

But apparently for Zoro is not deep enough, and he pulls your hair for you to fall with your back onto the pile of mats. He moves you so that your head hangs out of the improvised bed, looking from above his imponent body reaching your wet cave.

Zoro first gives you a rough -but still cute- caress on your cheek, followed by a soft slap. He kneels down just so his hardness, drippy and shiny from your saliva, can penetrate your mouth. He literally wants to fuck your mouth backwards, and he will.

You stick your tongue out, receiving his dick deeper into your throat. His hands grip from your erected breasts, squeezing them with merciless attempt. Your nipples, protruding in between his fingers, feel overstimulated by the brutal massage.

As his hips move in and out, Zoro bends over enough for his nose to reach your navel. He plants a kiss, sniffing the scent of your warm skin.

Your nails carve con his strong, muscular legs. And your tongue reaches for the base of his dick as he goes deeper than ever.

“Look at your shorts, all wet…” he murmurs, in between little gasps and sexy grunts. Fucking your mouth feels more than heaven to him.

He plays with the damp spot around your grey shorts; the spandex in them has sticked itself to your wet sex. Zoro is delighted with the image, but he wants the spot to get much, much bigger. He reaches for the arousal patch with his mouth, tasting the salty flavour, drinking through the fabric everything he can suck.  

The warmth of his mouth, tongue and saliva pass through the stretchy material making you shiver underneath his crushing weight. Your lungs barely expand, thick saliva mixed with his precum sprouts from the commissure of your mouth and your back arching more and more. You want him to rip your pants off, you want him to eat you out completely and so brutally.

You can’t wait no more, your nails keep leaving marks on his flesh, your soles keep kicking the mat underneath. And he knows it very well, so much he keeps pumping inside of you until your lips turn a little blueish. And when that happens, just for some seconds he goes even deeper to then stick his sex out… violently.

You take a big gasp, with mandible hurting and desperate pants.

“Take… take them out” you plead, trying to squeeze your arms in between his legs to take your short leggings off.

“Take? Mhh…” he laughs, a rare sound but definitely tinted in lustful, devilishly intentions.

Zoro, instead, uses his strong hands to rip them off. The third pair in a month, he thinks those are free.

A whole, enough to expose your whole sex and ass, forms withing the ripped limits of your pants.

“This should do” he smirks, crunching a little not to crush you but for your tongue to reach for his balls. Soft skin you immediately suck and lick, causing in that man a feral grunt so loud it makes you tremble.

The green haired samurai spreads your legs, reaching for your flooded core with his own mouth. A sixty-nine position, where he is on top and you, like a little prey, underneath.

Zoro starts licking your whole sex, up and down, with his whole tongue. It seems as if he was doing some field recognition work, trying the very ups and downs of your core.

He keeps going. Your lips open allowing his dick to get back inside your mouth. You can sense the throbbing of his shaft growing stronger, getting harder than a rock, about to reach climax.

You squeeze his toned ass, strong enough to let him know you have enough oxygen to tolerate the last thrusts until his orgasm. You want your belly filled with his sweet, warm milk.

However, it isn’t enough for him. The strongest is not satisfied with the position, and specially this time with filling your mouth of his seed.

“I will eventually make you choke with my cum, but not now” he growls, pulling you down, sticking his sex out and walking until he is properly in front of you.

You pant, cleaning your mouth and chin from saliva with your forearm. You don’t mind, you accept his cum anywhere he wants. You accept everything he might want and desire from your sore body.

It is because of that, that Zoro lifts you up and turns you around. You are now on all fours and his hands rip the rest of your now absolutely wet shorts.

He separates your ass cheeks with both hands, taking a good look at your trembling thighs and dripping sex. A drip that forms long strings of arousal connecting with a pool of it on top of the yoga mat.

He kneels right behind you, playing with one of the sticky transparent strings, getting it back inside you with his finger in your sex.

“That ass looks so delicious” he moans, without stopping the fingering and getting his face close to your rear entrance.

As soon as the tip of his tongue reaches for your hole, you squirm and whine. And a slap on your ass cheek makes you flinch.

“Shh… little whore, I haven’t even done what I want yet” he says, biting the warm spot where he just spanked.

You bite your lower lip, letting your chest and face fall against the mat. Your ass, of course, lifted just perfectly for Zoro to have a banquet with it.

He spits and then proceeds to eat you out, going from your spread labia, towards your perineum and finally to your ass. To him there is no more delicious exquisiteness than your parts.

To you, at the same time, there is nothing better than the way he moves his tongue and the absolute no shame when it comes to taste every little part of your anatomy.

And of course, who could last long with such unchaste act? Not you, at least.

Soon, and guided by the way you can’t keep your posture no more, Zoro knows you are just about to burst… Him, too; he has been edging himself until this moment.

“Come, come on” he commands, slurping the unstoppable liquids leaving your core.

You can barely moan, reduced to a slave of pleasure, you simply let go of your body. Mind blank, eyes too. A loud moan against the blue gym mat, nails leaving imprints on it.

Trembling, exploding, reaching heaven or maybe hell. Him coming as well, bathing, the very minute after, your ass and sex with his release. You feel it dripping down, maybe even filtering inside you too.

“No, don’t get too comfy. We are just starting. Now that you are prepped, I’m ready to fuck you”

“Zo-Zoro…?”

[romanticoms]

everything i said i knew, i didn't (come through)

lando norris x fem!reader → tags: wc 2.2k, pure smut, fan(?) x athlete, no use of y/n (thankfully) not proofread, 5am.

author's note: this set us back by like 60 years.. i won't elaborate on why it's so bad. (my excuse is that i only write resident evil fanfics :3)

it's about a week or so into the new season, which has everyone evidently excited, some more so than others, much like you, you could only ever dream of watching the races in real time, it's a given that you're on vacation a little too near to what could be considered a hotspot for drivers alike.

drivers were practically saran wrapped in black coats, heading from the hotel lobby straight up to their respective rooms,

you were just a simple thing, minding your own business, it'd be rude to even try to look for any one of the drivers, that's class a asshole behaviour, as much as you were willing to look for any of them, it's not like it's in your cards to find a driver on their one special night's rest, let alone build up the courage and ask any one of them for their signatures.

to your surprise, word on the street says something about mclaren's drivers promoting a new sponsor of theirs, it won't hurt to snag a picture or two, especially now that there are fans posting about it,

you arrive at the ballroom, not too big not too small, reasonable enough not to squint to look at either one of the two, but you were fairly distanced away from the two, a crowd lies in between you and the two, hell, if someone had to point you out from the crows it'd probably take hours, not for lando though, his eyes had been on you since the moment you'd been there, probably longer? only he knows, but it takes you a questionable amount of time to even realize who exactly he was staring at, you shrug off the possible feeling of the fact that he was actually staring at you, don't get your hopes up, that's what you agreed on since the start anyways.

a little after the event concludes, it's a slip past midnight but you still manage to shower the feeling of heavy crowds pushing you back and forth away, slipping into a racy nightdress, you're reminding yourself to make the best of a holiday, even if it means you have to sacrifice some comfort to look cute (even when nobody's looking), you finish off by tying a near slobbish knot that doesn't have you trying again, still buzzing with the idea that lando's been looking at you, as much as you're willing to deny it for the right reasons, it's true, looking back at the recordings on your phone and it's more apparent that he was taking quick glances at you and the crowd ahead of him, then you, back to the crowd, it's an endless cycle and it has you giggling to yourself, a fucking coincidence

a knock or two hits your door, it's faint but you're aware that it's bed time, room service at this time of the night? they changing your room due to booking fuck ups? you think of the possibilities on the short walk to the door, you peek through the peephole to find lando norris, at your door, smiling somewhat like an idiot.

meeting an f1 driver was certainly not on your "list of things that happened today" bingo card, let alone on the fact that he's here just to see you, it's too surreal it has you nearly weak at the knees.

the door, holy shit. opening the door, butter fingers, it's a generational curse, lando seems much more relaxed after seeing you, poor boy was probably scared he got the wrong room,

you turn to speak but he hushes you, a fucking finger to your lips and it already has you feeling butterflies, given your knees were weaker than gruel, he's had you in a trance, captivated to the point where you take a few steps back from the door until he allows himself in, he shuts the door softly, double— triple checking if they're locked, he turns to you, it's the glint in his eyes that show he owes you an explanation,

"sorry about that," he starts,

"what brings you here?" you ask out of pure concern, it shocks you (and others, probably) that lando would go out of his way for someone like you, it's cute, to a point.

"just needed an escapade," he sits himself on the edge of the bed, it's crazy that you have him here but there's no way in hell he's here for whatever your brain believes.

"well, if you really want to know," he clears his throat before speaking again, "i'm here to see you,"

"me? of all people, me?" you cough up, at this rate you won't stop beating yourself up over nothing, it's valid given the status difference between the two of you.

you're visibly surprised, and it amuses lando, well enough for him to take the first step.

"yes, you," he murmurs, standing as he speaks, his frame slightly overlooks yours, he's like a a shadow that's brighter than you, in any and every way, odd.

"i saw you at the event earlier, you'd be surprised to know how easy it is to play pretend with the concierge." he chuckles, you just stare at him with your arms crossed, like you're babysitting a kid.

"it's still shitty of me, i know, i know," he has both arms slightly up, you're turned to him, now you're sitting on the same bed as him and it smells like bergamot and a pang of tension.

a pang doesn't cut it, you stare deeply into his eyes as he does with yours, it's not long until you're letting out, it's messy, really.

catching onto how many times he's been chuckling in between kisses, it just gets hotter and hotter, he really is the sun much like they claim.

his arm is around your waist drawing you in closer to him, his free hand tangled in your hair, gently caressing your cheekbones.

he deepens the kiss, savoring the warm heat of your body against his. his hands move slowly down your back as he pulls you towards him, it's nearly dramatic, the way you two hit heavy on the bedframe while simultaneously continuing, like animals, it's evident from the pale moonlight watching over the two of you, he's ferocious, grasping onto either sides of your waist and down, bruising them evenly, he whines and bites his lip the moment you pull back, just briefly before he has you on your back, you feel the mattress dip as he gets closer to you, crooning in your neck, he whispers, "jesus, feels so fucking good,"

barely a minute, no, two minutes? three? you lost count, your mind is drifting elsewhere, questioning how lando could keep track of the time, (it's his job to do so, obviously) but his kisses just keep pulling you back to the situation at hand, he'll deal with the rest later, he's desperate to peel the layers of clothes stringing you two apart.

"come on, can't wait—" he mutters to himself, desperately undoing the final strap of your silk before tossing it somewhere to the side, he's careful to not rip a single thread,

if it weren't for anyone or anything suspecting your unexpected visitor this late at night, he'd make it his goal to get you to scream his name, he'll settle for what he can get now, the rest will come eventually.

"there, there, sweetheart," he's coaxing you relentlessly, you're at ease, "where do you want me?" he looks up at you, you say nothing, slowly snatching his wrist to feel his calloused palm feel your stomach, he's knee deep in this, you're just made that way, made for him, "fuck, that's hot," lando hisses by your ear as he positions himself to box your frame.

"want me to be gentle, sweetheart? or rough, it's your call," he murmurs sweetly before softly nibbling at the lobe of your ear, peppering kisses from ear to neck, "rough," you choke out, "didn't hear you, sweetheart," he's teasing you and it feels worse than having pins and needles, "rough, please," you're crying out and he's heartlessly teasing you, barely met the guy and you know he's gonna make up for it, "atta girl," it's like you were sculpted for him, mind, voice and body.

he brings the incessant teasing to a mere halt when he motions you to get on top of him, feeling your cold but sweat glazed back pitted against his abs, feeling his cock swell against you, in heat of the moment, you mindlessly respond to him without even realising it, swirling your tongue on his middle and ring fingers, coating through and through before bringing it down to your aching pussy, his digits pressed up on your clit, he's really, really slow with his movements but you're not fighting it, you're not fighting for a quick stimulation, given the situation, the pace and timing are suited to your mind's liking, not like when you'd desperately stuff your fingers in your pussy to take your mind off the edge, you were sloppy n' straightforward with it, but lando, lando's a whole other topic that needs to be studied,

"this good for you, sweetheart? i can go a whole new mile for you if you need me to, just give me the word, i'll be more than happy to provide," he's whispering in your ear and it's making your stomach turn, unable to think and come up with anything, you come, cum all over his hands, all over nearly nothing, guilt washes you, barely pleased him and you're already selfishly doing this, lando's not even questioning a thing, he smirks against your shoulder and you feel it, he's silent but he doesn't even think twice before he continues, "good girl, such a good girl," he's consistently praising you, still at the same pace, maybe a little faster, you wouldn't know because of how it'd felt in the moment, lightheaded but in a good way, indefinitely, cloud nine? better than that, then you're hit with a second orgasm, this time your legs trash and you nearly give in before he stops briefly, you're gasping for air but you're desperate to finish, "no, please, don't stop," you pant in frustration, "hey, i'm not going anywhere," he's nonchalant about it, treating your desperation with utmost attention, he's careful with you, switching positions, he's up and facing you on the bed, slowly going over your waistline, then, he lines the throbbing red heat of his cock with your mound, slowly teasing you, pushing it up and down for a few seconds before slowly bottoming out, you push back in a pang of shock, not even a split second later it feels better than anything you figured he'd promise, locking your fingers with his, slow but rhythmic slaps fill the hollow sound of your once empty room, he dives forth, finds the crook of your neck, slowly sinking his teeth in, this one definitely does it for you, the third orgasm definitely jumps on the scale, feeling it ramp up to a solid twelve, you feel lando pick up the pace, "'m gonna cum, baby, n' it's gonna be all over you, n' you're gonna take it," evident from the grunts you hear in the back of your mind before you're picked back up into reality, he pulls out and you feel empty, yearning just a little more, nothing beats the view of seeing his essence take up certain areas of your belly, he watches as your breathing slowly regulates.

figuring you need a minute or two to cool off, he disappears into the bathroom without saying a word, you hear the water run and hit the cold floor, then you start to see steam fog up the mirror from the door, conveniently angled to the bed, lando pops back out to pick you up, bridal style at that, he's admiring every feature painted on your face, even the waterproof mascara he's managed to ruin, kicking the door shut with the back of his foot, he sets you in the bath tub where you're immediately soothed by it's warm embrace.

[pixels1utz]

Malleus x f!reader

Mating (this man is in heat),Rough cause that's all ik to do, my first ever malleus piece 😋 cause im in love with him

Implied breeding

Not proofread 👍

Anyways hope you enjoy 🩷or something

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Malleus has never been a harsh person or exactly rough in bed

But on those times whenever it's "mating season"

Just say bye to any sort of soft sex with him

Smut below here 🤧

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

For you it was a regular day going as it usually did you met up with ace to talk about god knows what and you left back to your dorm

Little did you know malleus was watching from a good distance and now that it's that season he's been really jealous of anything/anyone that gets to spend time with you

But you didn't know that you didn't know he was watching and was slowly losing his shit

Over any guy that you talked to

Since malleus was always prepared for this type of stuff and since it came unexpectedly he didn't tell you about anything cause he thought it might be weird

But oh were you in for a surprise when you had decided to visit him

You normally visit him whenever you get the time or almost everyday

So today didn't feel as weird when you visited him and today you wanted to wear one of those nice outfits that mal has given you,maybe thinking it might be a good surprise

So you headed on over to dorm

When you got there you'd normally see someone just chilling in the lounge but you didn't

So you made your way to malleus's room and knocked

But he didn't answer

So you tried the door and you noticed it was open so you went in and in that room was malleus in his bed

Covered in layers of blankets sweating from head to toe

"Malleus! Are you okay? Sick?" You asked

"You shouldn't be here" he said in a raspy voice a bit weaker

"What why?" You asked concerned coming closer to him and sat on the bed not too far from him

"I need you" was all he said back

Before basically jumping on you and kissing you harshly, as you where frozen cause you didn't even realize how fast he was

He started kissing you and trailing down to your neck and started sucking and biting, normally he wasn't harsh at all but he was using his full strength not to rip all your clothes off right now

He asked if you where okay with what's going to happen and then it caught you

Now you had realized that he was in heat or mating season (or whatever)

But you couldn't just leave him like this to suffer and since this might last a while on him

So you gave him your full permission to do whatever he pleases with you, thankfully malleus has some decency<3

So he started to take off your clothes as he did you rapped your legs around his waist

He started to play with you like sucking your tits and he placed one finger in your entrance Which was added on with two more

Cause you didn't realize this man apparently grows in size whenever it's mating time (malleus x3 idk however big u want you get)

So now you already where a moaning mess grabbing on to anything close like a pillow or the sheets

Not to mention the tears that where already streaming down

He continues to play with you until you came on his fingers so he pulled them out and stared licking

So he got down and started eating you out making sure to leave no drop as you muffled your noises with the pillow to not make anyone else hear

As he started massaging your clit with his thumb and the other hand massaging your boobs

He started basically tongue fucking you since his was long af

And so you came in his tongue, tasting your sweat from here he couldn't get enough

So he pulled his tongue out licking off any remainders and started kissing you, you let in already

And he started to put his tip in your tongue

Fucked cunt

Even the feel of his tip made you get shivers everywhere since you already where so sensitive

He slowly inched in you felt the stretch of his big cock since in heat it gets bigger isn't that wonderful

As he was half way in you grapped his horns as a support and he lifted your bottom half for a better reach in

Once he was fully in you where out of breath, shaking and crying and seeing the bulge he couldn't hold back

He slowly started pulling in and out with his pace getting faster as he kept going

You grabbed his horns shoulders anything to keep you up

He was fucking you so harshly :(

You couldn't even feel anything but pleasure

He was basically fucking you into to mattress

As he violently fucked your cunt all you could do is scream and hide them in the pillow

The more you grabbed his horns the more turned on he gets

But even after you came so many times he's yet to cum you started biting him and even after a while you had gone completely brain fucked too only a bit of human decency stayed with you

As you has changed positions so many times

And when he did come in you he didn't hold back he basically filled you to the brim some leaking out but he wouldn't allow that now would he

So he would fuck it back into you <3

Now he was satisfied and how Long where you two going at it, for about a few hours

You had already passed out and he was too intoxicated with you to leave your side

You definitely can't walk for a while

And once you woke up all you felt was sticky all over especially in-between your thighs, malleus has yet to wake so you tried to walk to the bathroom and failed

Thankfully to your beloved Malleus who scents that you moved he woke and helped you clean off

And you know who was waiting for you two outside Malleus's room?

Lilia!

Good luck explaining the noises to him (he knows he just wants to fuck with them)

So as Malleus and You are sat outside, you with a flushed face and Malleus scrambling to say anything

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The end I'm too lazy to continue you gotta convince me.

Thanks for reading ig 👍

This took me about 34 minutes to make

YES I'M GONNA WRITE MORE SOON CAUSE I HAVE FREE TIME :3

(Shout out to school being closed for Christmas)

[lopsicle]

We’ll Take Care Of You

TickleTober Day 8, Exposed Body Part

Characters: Lee! Vox, Ler! Velvette, Ler! Valentino (Romantic, polycules give me life), Zestial (Background/Implied Zestmilla).

Summary: Vox gets injured during a fight with other overlords; Vel and Val help treat his injuries.

Warnings: Fighting, Blood, injuries, scars, Valentino.

•••

Blood. Vox couldn’t tell from where it was pouring, his whole body felt like it was trying to rip itself apart, the distinctive sting in his abdomen clued him in though. The way his leg wobbled beneath him also wasn’t a good sign, he couldn’t keep himself supported for long, his knees hit the pavement. Fuck, why was there broken glass there’s?! Oh right, from his screen. It has been shattered, a large, ugly crack covering his right eye.

He might’ve convinced himself he was on a bad trip with the way his sight was glitching out, different shapes and colours all buzzing in his vision, much like the ones you’d see flashing on an error screen, worsening his throbbing headache. Weakly, a swarm of wires emerged from behind him, crackling with electricity. He lunged his arm forward, commanding them to ram into his assailant, who side stepped easily.

“Thou hath grown weaker since the disappearance of The Radio Demon.” Zestial commented, making his screen flash with a furious, cyan blue brilliance. Vox’s eyes shot open, well, his one good eye did, Zestial had created a sizeable crack over his over one.

“Tell me, art I noht worthy enough to be a challenge to thou?” Zestial asked, his lanky figure looming over Vox, seeming much bigger than it ever had before. Vox stares up at those soulless, toxic, feeling much like a fly caught in Zestial’s web.

“Jesus, y-you proved your point..” Vox managed to muster enough strength to speak, though it was muffled beneath all his static and glitching. Zestial tilted his head, leaning down to examine Vox, his suit torn with sweet, blue liquid pouring from his wounds, face destroyed and humiliated. Zestial smiled and returned to his full height.

“It appears that I have. I hope this serves as a reminder to thou of whom the real overlords of this realm are. Do not think about spitting poison in the direction of Carmilla again in my presence.” Zestial warned him, though Vox wasn’t listening. His audio receptors were too clogged with his own blood. It was only when Zestial began to walk away, leaving the shivering, pained man behind that he reached for his phone with upmost need, even if his movements were weak and limp, like a skeleton clinging to their own grave. A ringing filled the silence around him, answered almost immediately.

“Vox, where-fuck, what happened to you?! Where are you?!” Velvette bellowed on the other end, her stern look boiling away to concern. Vox squinted at her with his good eye and smiled, relaxing his muscles, not having any remaining strength in his body.

“Hey Vel,” his voice came out uncharacteristically weak and tiny, “you look beautiful.” He mumbled, Velvette’s worried, frantic cries for an explanation fading away as his world blinked into darkness.

When Vox came to, he felt like shit. Not as shitty as before, there were no burning pains in his body, just mostly sore. The world around him felt soft and a quick glance around revealed him to be back in his room, though it looked a little different. On his bedside drawer were various types of bandages, cotton balls and ointments, iodines, peroxides and such, along with some medicine and…was that a card? Vox squinted at it. “Get Well Soon,” apparently from his assistant Papermint. Well, that didn’t explain why he was here-

Oh right. The fight. Ugh, did Velvette really see him like that, all injured and gross and sappy? Vox sighed at the thought, before pulling up the covers slightly to take a look at his body. His thigh had been thoroughly bandaged up, so comfortable he hadn’t even noticed until now. His shoes and shirt were gone, revealing a good few scars littered across his torso, precise and thin. Zestial’s nails. That fucking eight legged was freak was going to get what was coming to him, Vox was sure of that at least. He didn’t have long to linger on the thought though, due to the sound of incoming footsteps heading for his room.

“God dam it Valentino, he’ll be fine, he just needs rest!” Velvette screeched.

“Bullshit, he’s been out for a whole day, our novio is strong, he would’ve pulled through by now.” There was a small part of Vox that was resentful that he had indeed woken up and that Val was about to be proven right. His door clicked upon, Valentino’s imposing figure stood next to Velvette’s short one. Valentino’s coat was gone, letting his wings breathe freely, wearing nothing but a comfortable dark tracksuit beneath. Velvette’s hair wasn’t styled at all, simply left to hang freely, a style that Vox found gorgeous. Valentino just smirked confidently at Vox though it was aimed at Velvette, who just stared flabbergasted, before breaking into a relieved smile.

“Really picked an inconvenient time to wake up, didn’t you?” Vel commented, a rare sound of softness in her tone as she approached Vox; Valentino in tow.

“You know me, Vel, I always show up in places I’m not wanted,” Vox smirks, trying to regain some of the confidence he had lost from that humiliating defeat. He could pretend for now. Valentino leaned down next to his bed side, stroking his hand at the top of Vox’s TV head. At this distance, Vox could see through the tint of his red-sunglasses, his eyes were full of clear relief and love.

“You had us worried, hermoso.” He said in a tone that made Vox shiver, not used to Valentino being so affectionate. “Christ, Vel was a mess when she came to me.”

Velvette huffed. “Well excuse me, Vox was talking like he had one foot in the grave already! Who even did that to you?!” Velvette asked, there was fury in her tone, but it wasn’t directed at Val or Vox. Vox really did think he was a goner there, huh? He cringed at the thought of getting all sentimental and mushy in front of Vel…ugh, at least it wasn’t Valentino. He wouldn’t let Vox live that down, though the way Velvette was being so worried about him almost made him prefer Valentino.

“That old spider prick Zestial, but it’s fine, really. I-I just couldn’t see and I thought I was..you know, a lot more worse for wear than I was, it’ll take a lot more than that to keep me down.” Vox bragged, though the other two weren’t all that interested in his ego right now. Valentino pulled out two golden pistols he’d kept on his body, because that’s a responsible thing to bring into a make-shift hospital room.

“So, we’re going to kill this guy, right?” Valentino asked, unable to stop a grin from forming on his face though he was dead serious. Vox interjected before Vel could passionately agree.

“No, no, you two are not about to go and worsen the mess I created. We could hit him where it hurts though, his reputation, I’m sure some of my cameras caught what went down, we could easily spin this and frame him as-.” Vox put a hand to his chin as he rambled though Velvette waved her hands dismissively.

“No, no, no, you are not working right now, your hurt and your not doing anything until your better!” Velvette stated, crossing her arms over her chest, practically daring Vox to argue with her. He still get like absolute Hell, that fight has taken a physical, and unexpected emotional toll on him. He couldn’t let his image continue to slip though, he’d already looked like an idiotic sap to Velvette and a useless, banged up meat sack to Valentino. Now what was he, some helpless baby?

“Yes, I am-ow!” Vox tried to pull himself up, though the second he began to get up, it was like his torso was trying to split open.

“Careful, querido, we haven’t finished with the cuts on your torso. At least let us handle them.” Valentino asked, squeezing Vox’s hand in his own. Vox’s face heated up at the feeling and he leaned back into the bed.

“Thank you,” Velvette added in an exaggerated tone, before comfortably pulling back the covers to leave Vox’s torso on show. She grabbed some of the cotton balls on Vox’s desk and doused it in the antiseptics she had accumulated there. “This is gonna sting a little.” She warned him.

Vox rolled his eyes. “Oh, please I’m not a kid-oh fuck!” He screeched as Velvette dabbed and pressed the cotton ball against the scrapes on his torso, one by one. He squeezed onto Val’s hand tighter instinctively and hears the man chuckle; Vox blushed even more. Velvette winced and worked as fast as she could, thoroughly disinfecting all his cuts. Vox took in a deep breath, trying to regain any semblance of composure as he swatted away Val’s hand.

“You two really didn’t have to do all this, for me,” Vox added quietly at the end, Val put a hand on his hip.

“That’s a weird way of saying thank you, Voxy.” He teased, though Velvette made sure to lightly smack his arm, having finished treating Vox.

“Shut up, Val! And yes, Vox, we did, did you want to wake up half blind with a useless leg? I didn’t think so.” She seemed to shudder slightly as she described it. He hated that she saw him like that already but that just made a little bit of guilt crawl up to his throat like bile.

“I just…never wanted either of you to see me in that state, I-I apologise, it won’t happen again.” Vox’s voice shifted to the tone he’d use when discussing business deals, formal and matter of fact, dropping with false confidence. That seemed to set off alarm bells in his partner’s head. Velvette considered for a moment what to say, but Valentino beat him to it.

“Voxy, darling, baby,” he leaned in, placing his hands on Vox’s shoulders, “do you know how stupid you sound right now?”

Vox’s eyes narrowed with insecurity, Velvette looked about ready to rip off Val’s wings before he continued.

“Do you know how many times you’ve seen me ripping apart this whole tower because of some shit Angel did? Or how Velvette was a blubbering mess when she first came to Hell? None of us three are perfect, we’re in Hell, so stop lying to all three of us.” Vox’s eyes seemed to soften as he looked away, actually taking in something Valentino said. Velvette seemed shock that Valentino said something actually useful.

“You know you have to be wrong if I’m agreeing with dick for brains here. Vox, we’re not gonna view you differently for this, your still our leader. This place couldn’t function without you, we still value you.” Velvette sat down on Vox’s bed next to him, who was feeling warmly trapped between the two.

“Well…that is certainly got to know, just make sure that the details of all this stays between us? You didn’t tell anyone else, right?” Vox asked, to which Velvette shook her head.

“Only your assistant.” She explained, Vox seemed to relieve, able to relax once again.

“Good, good…thank you for doing all of this for me, truly.” Vox managed a smile for his partners, Velvette politely returned one. Valentino remained smug as always but kept his hands on Vox’s body, playfully dragging his fingers down his arm.

“Very good, I like it!” Val praised him in a sickly sweet tone, which just made Velvette roll her arms. Vox on the other hand was much more preoccupied with the way his hand was travelling down his arm, with his index finger gently dragging against Vox’s chest and then just his side. Vox eyed Valentino’s hand, biting at his lip though he was much too weak to hold back his laughter right now, softy cracking up and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Gohohod, Val, stop thahahat!” He ordered, swerving his body away from the man slightly, but Val’s fingers caught up with him, a wide grin on the man’s face as he realised what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t be such a princesa, Voxy, it’s just tickling, it’s not like I’m doing anything…sinister.” That last word came out in a dark whisper, Vox felt his face sparkle with electricity, unable to meet Valentino’s smug gaze. He tried to curl up on himself but one of Valentino’s pair of arms took a hold of his wrists, forcing them above his head.

“Vahahahl, the tickling is the prohohoblem!” Vox whined, his laughter coming out slightly crackly and hoarse, doing his best to contain his snickers. Velvette starting to scribble her nails along his abs didn’t help with that.

“VEHEHEHEL!!” Vox shrieked, tensing his legs; Velvette simply smirked up at him, squeezing at the solid skin.

“What? You gave me a proper scare, you dolt, consider this my revenge!” She declared, skittering those wonderfully manicured nails of hers over his torso, her touches a lot more precise and decorate than Val’s large hands.

“Fuhuhuhuck, why yohoHOHOHu thehehen?!” Vox spat out at Valentino, who just shrugged, his crimson teeth shining with glee.

“I just like doing this, you look adorable, Voxy~!” He teased, pinching the side of his screen, before sharply withdrawing his hand at the feeling of a sharp shock bubbling at his fingertips.

“CAHAHN YOHOHU BOHOHTH QUIHIHIT IT?!” Vox whined in a flustered tone, wishing he could just disappear, or hide under the covers. His partner’s fingers were not compliant with that wish however, Velvette continued skittering her nails all about his torso whilst Valentino squeezed up and down his ribs, leaving Vox’s midriff in sensory hell. Velvette looked a little apprehensive as she noticed how hard Vox was squirming about, he looked about ready to blow a fuse in his head with how hard he was blushing. It was cute, obviously, but she couldn’t help but come concerned for Voxy, pulling away her hands and ushering for Val to do the same by slapping his wrist. Surprisingly, he complied.

“You got off lucky this time, mi amor, but you owe me~!” Valentino made sure to remind him, but Vox wasn’t listening. He smiled appreciatively at Velvette as he laid down, trying to recover.

“You two..you two are assholes..” he spoke with a small grin before figuring to add, “thanks though but, I can handle myself from here and you both can’t afford to stay here watching me all day.” Velvette huffed, knowing he was right. Valentino looked down at him, something close to love in his eyes.

“As long as you say so, Voxy. Come on, Doll, I have a shoot to film.” He stated to which she just rolled her eyes in disinterest and turned her face towards Vox.

“Stay safe, baby,” Velvette murmured, kissing him on his cheek gently, before she stood up. Vox’s eyes had a little twinkle as he looked up at Velvette.

“I will, I promise.”

[a-killer-obsession]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 53 - Go Back/Come Back

The past month from a different perspective.

Word Count: ~4.4k

BIG RED WARNING AHEAD, THIS CHAPTER IS DARK. Chapter includes graphic torture and noncon scenes, mutilation of genitals, and use of the f slur. Yall don't have to tell me how fucked I am for this chapter, I made myself cry writing it, I KNOW

Just over a month ago

Heat stared up at the sky, watching the dark shadow that moved through the clouds and perplexed the group that stood around him. He hadn't even noticed it before you pointed it out, but now it was unmistakably there. Too large to be a bird, far too large to be any regular zoan fruit user. Was this an attack? From whom? There were three supernova captains on this island, if the marines wanted to make their move now would be the time, but how would they know about this meeting? Was there a traitor among them? Did the marines even have air based weapons?

“The fuck?” Heat heard Kid growl, breaking him from the thread of questions running through his mind. Others were beginning to take note of the shadow, an eerie quiet falling over the gathering as the three crews looked up to the sky.

Suddenly, something fell. Something big. It sent a shockwave of air through the party, and Heat dug his feet into the ground to keep himself steady, shielding his face with his arms crossed in front of him. As soon as he deemed it safe, he looked to where you were, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw Killer had shielded you and Dawn with his body. Heat had been too far away to protect you, but he knew Killer was close, and he trusted him to protect you and the little one. As the dust settled, Killer thrust Dawn into your arms, screaming for you to run. Heat watched you leave solemnly, with no time to even say goodbye, but Killer's observation haki was better than anyone's; if he thought it was too dangerous here for you and Dawn, Heat had no doubt that it was. Even with his significantly weaker observation haki, the hairs on the back of Heat's neck raised in alarm, and he cleared his throat in preparation to breathe fire.

The three crews, and you from the safety of the castle, all watched on in horror as Kaido, one of the four emperors, raised himself up from the deep hole he'd made in the ground with his impact. He shook his head like he'd barely fallen out of bed, a dazzed, clearly drunken look to him as he observed the crews around him readying their weapons. He laughed - like these tiny, insignificant crews could hurt him, let alone kill him.

“I'll make this easy,” Kaido sighed, his bellowing voice sending its own small vibrations through the air, “since apparently I must suffer another day, you can all join my crew. Become my subordinates, return to Wano with me. Or you can just fuckin’ die, I don't care.”

The three supernova captains looked at each other, Heat making his own unsure eye contact with Wire. Kid was not one to bend the knee to anyone, and Wire's grip tightening on his trident told Heat everything he needed to know: prepare to fight. Scratchmen and Hawkins knelt, taking the coward’s route and submitting to the emperor. Kaido gave them a pleased grin, before his eyes fell to Kid and he scowled and the small man who dared to defy him.

“Kneel,” he growled.

“Suck my left nut,” Kid roared back, flipping him off with his metal arm.

Suddenly, Kaido's fist was flying at Kid, knocking him and those around him back with a powerful shockwave. The three Kid Pirate commanders were knocked back, each digging in their heels and remaining upright, Killer's punishers whirling to life as the battle officially commenced. The other two crews immediately turned on them and the brawl began as Kid gathered metal to form a giant hand, making his move to fight back against Kaido.

The fight didn't last long. Despite all their strength, they were vastly outnumbered, against crews with their own powerful devil fruit wielding captains. Kid was knocked out by a giant haki coated fist from the emperor, and Heat, along with his comrades, all called for him to get up, before watching in horror as Kaido dragged him by his ankle and dangled him upside down like a doll. The metal from his arm as well as strings of fresh blood dripped from the captain's seemingly lifeless body as it was swung back and forth by the bored looking emperor. Double was the next to go down, he had never been suited for hand to hand fighting, and without his gun he was all but useless, doing his best to fight back the enemy with nothing but a small dagger. Mohawk went down trying to help him, the two lying unconscious in the dirt, blood pouring from Double's body in a way nonconforming with life.

Heat and Wire fought back to back, overwhelmed by the number of skilled enemies, taking down as many as they could until long strands of straw wrapped around the two of them as Hawkins bound them together, rendering them defeated. Heat tried to burn the straw with his fire, but he was squeezed too tight to take in enough breath, let alone expel fire. Killer was the last to go down; with no other allies on his side, he too was eventually chained and stripped of his weapons. He fought to the end, crushing an enemy's skull with a headbutt from his mask, but knocking himself out in the process.

The Kid Pirates were all loaded on to the Victoria Punk, chained in the brig, in their own ship's cells, an additional layer of humiliation for the defeated crew. A significant portion of the crew were missing, no doubt still laying dead on the island. Heat mourned for them, and he mourned for you no doubt having to deal with those bodies, but at the very least he didn't see you or Dawn brought on board, so he had to assume you were both safe. As the ship sailed away and Killer came to, he confirmed with his haki that you were nowhere on board, as well as confirming the number of crew missing. Heat prayed silently to whatever god would listen that it would stay that way, even if it meant never seeing you again.

The journey to Wano was long and hard. The crew weren't given any food, barely any water between them - only what they needed to survive. Kaido wanted them alive; the Kid Pirates were a strong crew, he wanted to break Kid and acquire strong subordinates. Hearing that from the enemy at least gave the commanders hope that Kid was alive somewhere. Kaido needed him alive, the crew would do as he asked if Kid folded, but they would die before they took commands from Kaido instead. When they made it to the closed country, taken up to the mainland via the official port, they were chained together in a long line and escorted to the capital by foot. Kid was absent, Heat didn't know where he was, he must have been moved already by Kaido. Killer was separated from them, taken to the same prison but held elsewhere within it, no doubt to try and break him. Heat and Wire were thrown in a cell with several others, just a bare bones dirt floor with a hole in the corner to shit in and nothing else, the iron cell bars open to the outside, revealing a courtyard of similar cells. They were given only what was needed to survive, minimal water in cracked clay pots and dumplings made of rice flour, thrown into the dirt. Heat and Wire spent many nights clutching each other for warmth and comfort, Wire's coat wrapped around the two of them for protection against the cool night air.

It was on the second week there that they started taking crewmates from the cells, trying to break each one. A few of the henchmen cracked, seen again later in Beast Pirate attire, laughing and mistreating prisoners like they hadn't once been one. Heat wasn't much surprised, many of the henchmen were cowards, that's why they never lasted long. Others would come back broken, bruised and cut and covered in their own blood. Heat didn't know what was being done to them, they always came back with an empty look in their eyes, refusing to speak on it. One night one of them found a loose piece of metal on the cell bars. Heat watched them dragging his body away in the morning, his skin pale from blood loss, his arms slit from wrist to elbow. Heat held Wire tighter that night.

And then, it was Heat's turn. They dragged him away from Wire, the two of them fighting to stay together until they were beaten into submission. When he tried to breath fire at them he was quickly gagged, not that he had the energy to produce more than a flicker of flame. They pulled Heat to a large room, with wooden floors stained with blood, and walls lined with hooks, chains, mounted tools for torture, and a large metal table in the center of the room. The room held other things that made Heat gag given the context, pieces of furniture he knew were purpose built for sex, but in this room were no doubt used for rape. There was a scent of iron and rot in the air that made Heat's nose burn, the floor still wet with blood from a previous victim.

“Look at his hair,” one man laughed, pulling Heat's long blue locks roughly, making him hiss, “it's like a girl. This guy some sort of fag or what?”

“You see him cuddling with the tall one?” Another mocked, “definitely a fag. The other one has fucking thigh high fishnets for fucksake, like a fucking prostitute. This one is no better, look at his corset, he's wearing chick's clothes.”

“I think ‘he’ is too kind,” another said, “look at the freak, it looks like a fucking zombie. Stitched up freak.”

All Heat could do was grit his teeth and bare it, the gag in his mouth groaning under the pressure he was putting on it, as the Beast Pirates circled him and shouted insults. He wasn't in the position to fight, with his wrists and ankles bound, a chain connecting between them keeping him from raising his arms. The men circled him, like a swarm of vultures, like he was already dead meat.

The first few hours of torture were tolerable. Heat had a high pain tolerance, barely giving the enemy the satisfaction of him making a noise. They didn't like that. They wanted him to scream, to cry, to break and swear his loyalty. But he wouldn't break. So they turned to new methods, crueler ones.

Heat's clothes were stripped from him, and he was strapped to a St. Andrews Cross. “Ey, look at this,” one man laughed, batting Heat's flaccid cock like a cat with a toy mouse, “the faggot has piercings on his cock!”

“How the fuck do you fuck with those?” One noted, “he must just always take it up the ass. He really is a fag!”

The men continued to laugh and call Heat slurs, describing all the awful things they wanted to do to him before they finally began the next phase of their torture. First, they used the piercings to connect to a power source, sending high volts of electricity through the metal, searing the skin around them. Heat swore his teeth would break from how hard he was biting down on the gag, and he tasted blood as his gums began to strain against the pressure on his teeth. They did the same to his nipples, before attaching weights to the piercings. The weight hung from them was increased bit by bit, until one man decided to slap the weights, and the skin on his nipples tore to release the piercings. Heat let out a groan as blood ran down his front in twin trails, the first sound they'd managed to get him to make.

Riding on their victory, the pirates focused on his dick piercings next. They tugged and pulled on them, before tearing each one out with a set of pliers. Heat couldn't hold back his pained sounds anymore as the skin on his flaccid cock was torn over and over, leaving his dick bleeding as he panted from the pain, almost passing out a few times. He was dizzy and nauseous, but they weren't done with him yet.

One man noted that with his long air, slender build and decent ass, from the back they could pass him off as a woman. Another noted that Heat probably wanted to be fucked in the ass, given their perception of him. Heat fought his restraints, he knew where this was going. It wasn't like he'd never taken it in the ass, Wire had fucked him plenty of times, but Wire would never hurt him. Wire took his time making sure he was ready, with adequate lubrication and the opportunity to stop whenever Heat hit a limit. He knew these men would not give him that, he would be forced to take it regardless of how much it hurt. He would not beg for them to have mercy though, he was a Kid Pirate, he was stronger than that. He would not beg. He would make his captain proud, he would not let these men break him.

He didn't beg as they strapped him into some sort of stockade. It was metal, a H shape on the ground, his wrists and ankles cuffed at each tip, forcing him onto all fours. In the centre a small cushioned area held his chest up, dried blood caked to it, an attached collar keeping his head in place. He could move his hips, barely, and that was about it. He didn't beg as they tugged on his bleeding cock as it hung beneath him, he didn't beg as one man knelt behind him and spat on his ass, and he didn't beg as a cock was forced inside him, splitting him open with a searing pain, the tight rings of unprepared muscle tearing and bleeding with each hard thrust. At least by some small mercy the blood added to the lubrication. He lost count of how many men came inside him or finished on his ass, some of them even trying to jerk off his injured cock, like trying to force pleasure from him somehow made it any better. None of them were successful, it hurt too much.

Heat thought maybe once they'd had their fun, he would be taken back to Wire, like the others had been taken back to their cells. He would have the opportunity to hide under Wire's cloak and cry; he couldn't do that here, he refused to show them any weakness. But the Beast Pirates decided they liked him too much. They liked the way he whimpered, despite how hard he tried not to make a sound. They liked pulling on his hair, and smacking his cock, which was now red and infected after several days without treatment. They kept him chained in that stockade, sometimes with a plug in his ass, keeping him ready for anyone who might decide to use him for some relief. When he lost the strength to hold his rear end up, they wrapped a chain around his waist and attached it to the ceiling, making sure his ass was always on display. It was just as well he hadn't eaten in a while, because they gave him no opportunity to use the bathroom. The room stunk of piss now, from the times Heat had no choice but to go where he was. The wood underneath him was soaked with it, his knees beginning to burn from being stuck kneeling in it.

They forced crappy alcohol into his mouth, leaving him drunk sometimes, which was at least a little better than dealing with his situation sober. It was easier when he was dizzy with intoxication, and at least he could breathe without the gag, they knew he didn't have it in him to breathe fire at them in his current state. At some point the fever spread, his whole body consumed by the fire, making him sweat and shiver, delirious and slipping in and out of consciousness. That didn't stop them from using his body, raping him regardless of if he was awake. At some point a new gag was put on him, one with a phallus that was forced down his through, making him choke around it. He passed out from hyperventilating, his brain taking over breathing for him, waking later as some asshole came over his back.

Heat wasn't sure how long they kept him there, but as the fever consumed him he began to have hallucinations. Your ghostly image stroking his hair and cooing soothing words was all that kept his spirit intact. He entirely dissociated from the real world, letting his fevered dreams and visions keep his attention instead, not that he had much choice. He was still naked the entire time, and with no warmth or proper water, the fever was slowly killing him. At least with the hallucinations, you would be the last thing he saw. He could take solace in that at least.

Back in his cell, Wire watched the sliver of Heat's vivre he kept hidden away in his pocket get smaller and smaller every day. He shook the bars of his cell, screamed for the guards to take him instead, but his cries went unanswered. He curled up in the corner of his cell and under the cover of his coat, he let himself sob. There was nothing he could do. He didn't know where Heat was, he had no way to help him, all he could do was wait for his best friend to die. He wasn't sure Heat even knew how much he loved him, with everything going on with you and Dawn, Wire hadn't felt like it was his place to say anything. He thought he was content to live on the outskirts of Heat's life as his best friend and occasional lover, but now he desperately wished he had the opportunity to tell Heat how he really felt.

“Wire?” A voice he hadn't heard in weeks shook him from his breakdown. Your purple visor glinted under the moonlight as you stood on the other side of his cell bars. A moment later and the bars were gone, torn from the walls by Kid, who stood at your side. Killer stood at your other, dressed strangely in a kimono, the lower half of his face bandaged to hide his mouth in the absence of his mask. “It's you! Oh thank fuck!” You cried, running and jumping at him knocking him back from his seated position, your arms wrapped around his neck. He returned the hug with shakey hands as you littered kisses over his face, a level of affection he'd never received from you before, but you were just so damn happy to see him. “Where's Heat?” You asked, eyes and voice full of hope. Wire blinked at you, opening his hand to reveal the burning vivre. He didn't know what to say, he knew the vivre would hurt you as much as it was hurting him, he didn't know what he could say to lessen that hurt. You were silent for a moment, pulling away from him as you looked at the flickering paper. “Where?” You said coldly. Your mood had entirely changed. You weren't stupid, Heat was somewhere and he was dying. Someone was making him die. Someone was hurting your lover, killing him. You were furious, ready to burn the world and everyone in it to find him.

“I- I don't know,” Wire replied in a husky voice. His throat was dry from dehydration and crying. “They took him weeks ago and never brought him back. I think he might be still on the grounds, but I don't know. You have to find him, please.”

The vivre in Wire's hand jumped to the side, and you stood abruptly and flicked the settings on your mask, wordlessly staring in the same direction as it moved to scan for Heat, praying he was still nearby. There was a silhouette of a defeated looking man in your vision, and that was enough for you to move. You didn't even bother to look for a path to him, seeing red as you walked forward, creating holes in any wall that appeared before you. The men followed behind you as you stormed through the prison, Kid using his power to remove any metal ahead of you, and Killer cutting down guards with a set of stolen swords. Wire wobbled along behind, weakened but determined to get to Heat.

You came to a standstill as you opened the wall to the room where Heat was held. Unconscious, gagged, covered in blood and wounds and what looked like dried cum. Below him was a puddle of dried blood and what smelt like piss, a thick dildo hanging out of his ass, his skin clammy and sweating. A man stood behind him, holding the dildo in one hand, his own cock in the other. He was frozen in shock, staring at the hole you'd made in the wall. In a instant the man was a pool of blood, turned to pink mist within a tube of air you built around him to protect Heat from the fallout.

Another man stood at Heat's front, clearly frozen in the middle of jerking himself off over Heat's face. He scurried backwards in fear as you rushed at him with a feral scream, grabbing him by the throat before heating his body to the point of boiling his organs. You watched his eyes melt in his skull and drip down his face, your own hand blistering as his skin bubbled, but in your fury you paid it no mind. The man slid from your grasp, the skin you had been holding no longer connected enough to keep his body up as it slipped to the ground at your feet. You flicked your hand to rid it off the goopy remnants of his degloved skin, head on a swivel as you searched the room for your next target. The others had already taken care of them, bodies laying on the ground with their heads cracked open and their guts spilled out over the floor.

Enemies cleared, your attention turned to Heat. Wire was already kneeling at his side, pulling the dildo from him carefully as Kid released the metal cuffs and collar and chains that bound him. His body collapsed to the side, unable to hold himself up without the restraints, weakened by lack of movement and fever and starvation. Wire held him gingerly as you carefully removed his gag, scowling as you revealed the silicone cock that had been shoved down Heat's throat. You threw it to the side and cupped Heat's face with your hands. His skin was red hot, his cheeks flushed with fever, his eyes barely open and rolling in the sockets, unable to focus.

“Heat, baby, look at me,” you pleaded, “I'm here, it's gonna be okay. Wire's right here too, we're all here. We're gonna get you somewhere safe okay? Mohawk is gonna have you fixed up in no time, just stay with us.”

“[Y/n]?” Heat mumbled under his breath. Wire raised a brow at the name but now wasn't the time to question it.

“Yes baby, it's me,” you cried, “I'm right here.” It didn't bother you that Heat had revealed your real name in front of Wire and Kid, all that mattered was hearing his voice.

“Love you,” he said weakly.

“I love you too Heat, so much,” you wept. Heat's head fell limp in your hands, and a sob errupted from you as you called to Heat to come back to you. Killer pulled you away so Kid could pick Heat up, Wire not being in a state where he could carry Heat himself. Wire, feeling just as upset and defeated as you, took you in his arms, letting you sob against his chest. Soft moments with Wire were rare, so feeling his tears against your hair made it all the more real how awful the whole situation was.

With some convincing Killer managed to drag the two of you away. What remained of the crew that were alive and still loyal were gathered, and you were happy to see the newbies still there, even Quincy was a sight for sore eyes. Killer's mask was retrieved from his old cell, and together the crew fought their way out with stolen weapons, stealing what supplies they could on the way, though it was clear Wano was well behind the times when it came to medical supplies.

They needed to rest and tend to Heat before making the journey to the ship, so you all went back to the run down town you'd left this morning, the crew scattering themselves in whatever houses they could find that still had enough of a roof to shelter them. Mohawk did what he could for Heat with the supplies he had, but he had no antibiotics to give him. He hoped the ship would still have some, otherwise Heat would need to fight the infection on his own. You helped Mohawk clean and bandage Heat as best you could, Wire helping as well where he was able, but until the journey to the ship was made tomorrow, all anyone could do was hope. Mohawk had at least been able to steal some medicinal herbs from the prison, which he packed into Heat's wounds in the hope they would help fight the infection. It wasn't much but it was all he could do, though he couldn't bring himself to pack them into the wounds on his cock. You and Wire stayed by Heat's side all night, each taking a hand and refusing to let go. Others came and went, Killer ultimately deciding to sleep beside you, and Kid beside him, the five of you laying on the cold rotting floor of the broken down house, praying for a miracle.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

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Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @eyes-ofhell @luvnisstuff @epochal-oracle

[austinsdemise]

✪ɢᴇɴʏᴀ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ✪

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ !!•ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ•!!

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ, ɢᴇɴʏᴀ ɪꜱ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴍᴜᴛꜰɪᴄ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ꜱᴀʏꜱ ‘ᴛᴇᴇɴᴀɢᴇ ʜᴏʀᴍᴏɴᴇꜱ’ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇɴʏᴀ ᴀʀᴇ 18-19, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴛᴇᴇɴᴀɢᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ.

//ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ꜱᴇx, ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx, ᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ꜱᴇx, ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ//

!ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ! ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴜᴘ 🤭✨

ᴡᴄ: 3635

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N wasn't your typical demon, actually, they were one of Muzan's offspring. A cross between human and the fucking demon king. Safe to say they were in his presence at almost all time, that was until Y/N was "killed" by a slayer. In reality this was part of their recently awakened blood demon art. Their blood art prevented Muzan from reading their mind and causing very real hallucinations to occur when they make contact with their victim. Escaping their father was top priority, as the experimentations he had put his offspring through were less than pleasant. From being thrown into the sun and getting half cooked to being forced to feed off all ages of people, it was hell.

The close monitoring of Y/N's every move was making them insane. The half human in them kept them sane.

Once spacing the demon king, Y/N found little use for themself, being half demon didn't help when you had to travel in the sun. But through all the trouble and hardships, they found their way to being recruited as a demon slayer and eventually the Tsuguko to the sound hashira due to their "flashy" nature, his words not mine. Now that Y/N was free from their father's control they have decided to take it easy as their life as a demon slayer. Hiding in plain sight from both Muzan and the Demon Slayer corps as they continue on with their life like any normal person, or demon in their case. But even if they were free Y/N couldn't help but feel lonely, knowing that they were the only one to have a secret as big as theirs.

That was until they met the tall and brooding teenager going by the name Shinazugawa Genya.

They smelt the demon blood in him, it wasn't even that hard either. The two teens soon quickly became friends, and Y/N was estatic about it. Never had they ever had a friend their own age, though Uzui and his wives were nice to them, it felt more like a teacher and student relationship. Not that Y/N would ever admit but the first time they met Genya they couldn't help but do a double take. His rough exterior attracted the softer Y/N in so many ways. The black haired demon was very awkward around Y/N at first, blatantly refusing to talk to them sometimes out of embarrassment. But as the weeks passed the teens became closer, both in friendship and something akin to desire blooming. When the time felt right Y/N decided to finally reveal their secret to the weaker demon.

The ordeal went better than expected. Genya was obviously startled at the sudden revelation, but also comforted in knowing that he wasn't the only demon with in the corps that was made to kill their kind. As time passed the demons' relationship grew larger, Genya had even developed a quite apparent crush on the fellow demon seeing as they trained together very often, which caused them to get in promiscuous positions every now and then leaving him blushing. These actions always make him quit training a early so he can go back to his room and whip out his cock. Humping his pillows, imagining it was Y/N's plush thighs he was fucking instead. He always came quick to the thought of Y/N, but that doesn't mean he doesn't make himself cum 2-3 more times from more scenarios he could make up for the two. And Y/N was innocent either, their own desire for Genya flowered. The tall male just made Y/N's heart throb, he was their age and kind to them. And never having experienced love before Y/N was hesitant to express their feelings, terrified that Genya wouldn't feel the same way. Ever since Genya's crush became more profound he couldn't help but be more horny in his movements and actions, wanting to impress Y/N and show his dominance.

Even hinting in his words that the two should get some alone time, but with Y/N being slightly dense and not having experienced anything like that, he was always met with an innocent response.

At this point his lust for Y/N was too strong for his hormonal teenage body to stand. There was one time Y/N backed up into him while training and he couldn't help grabbing them by the hips and pulling them against his own, almost grinding on them but stopped himself. Leaving quickly as to not let them see the tent in his pants, Y/N standing there rightfully confused that the now fleeing Genya. That night he had a particularly long session of imaging what Y/N could do to him.

But soon his wishes would be granted. One day while training, both Y/N and Genya's bodies were moving in a quick rhythm as their wooden swords clashed against each other. Sounds of wooden clacking and scrapping filled the small clearing in the secluded forest, leaving them in a private space as to not bother others while training. One final time Their swords met and Genya just happened to overpower Y/N's swing. Swiping his sword in a downward motion caused Y/N's to be pushed to the ground and pinned under his sword. His body also moved to pin them to the ground, as his lower half kept theirs to the ground and his arms caged their top half.

Panting, and clearly out of breathe, the two exchanged a look. Y/N's now discarded sword laid beside them, Genya taking the chance to pull a slightly cringey move. Quickly adjusting his hands on the sword he brought it to lodge itself in the dirt beside their face. They flinched at the sudden movement but eventually huffed at the move pulled. Lying limp under the tall and brooding male that kept their soft body pinned to the ground.

Genya leaned down to be level with Y/N's face, grinning. “I win." His words made Y/N whine out in faux sorrow. but quickly giggling, finding the situation funny. Their body started to feel sore from being pushed against the ground, some small rocks deciding it would be a good time to lodge themselves into their back. They looked back up at the ravenette, his eyes grazing their body, but they waited a moment, confused why he hasn't moved off of them yet and the look he just gave them. Just as they were finally about to ask him to get off of them, something hard found it's way to poke at their ass.

"No way." Y/N gasped at the foreign feeling, but not an unwelcoming one. Genya's gave shifted to one of horror as he noticed that Y/N had noticed his raging hard on.

Want to quickly deescalate the situation he moved back a little bit, but Y/N's curiosity got the best of them and they shifted a little bit. A groan escaped Genya's chest, eyes opening wide in embarrassment as he slapped a hand over his mouth. The noise he produced made something inside Y/N light up, like a moth to a flame. They watched as they moved their hips against his again, the prettified expression combined with the furious blush on his face made him look so cute in their eyes. Wanting to hear more of his noise, Y/N took his hand from his face and held it in their own, before moving their hips up and down the now protruding length with their ass. He fit like the piece of the puzzle Y/N was missing. Lodged perfectly in the crook of their ass.

Genya's head threw back ass he let out a throaty gasp at the sudden pleasure Y/N brought him. "Ah, fuck, Genya couldn't help the way his hips started to move along with theirs. With a sudden boost of confidence, Y/N bunched the bottom of Genya's shirt up to watch his abs. The rhythm in which his hips rolled to match Y/N's own moment, made his abs clench and stretch with every roll.

The sight made something in them go feral, feeling their core start to heat up at the erotic display. The new feeling made Y/N squirm from their place under Genya, an actual whine eliciting from their throat. Now it was Genya's turn to go feral at the noises they produced. With impatient hands he moved his hand from Y/N's hold and down to his belt. He stumbled slightly when trying to unbuckle his belt.

Eventually he got it unbuckled and ripped the belt off, drool starting to pool in Y/N's mouth at Genya's desperation to continue their actions. Assisting him with shaky hands, Y/N placed a hand on his lower abs, dragging it down until it met the top of his pants. They looked up for approval, only meeting Genya's blushing face. He furiously nodded, accepting Y/N's offer with his predicament. The button of his pants quickly came undone, and once it did Genya shoved his pants down to free his erection. His cock slapped against his lower stomach at the sudden freedom, a short grunt escaping Genya at the cold air now encapsulating his dick. Y/N took a moment to observe Genya's little friend, well, not so little friend. The mushroom tip was already leaking as pearly beads slid down it. Prominent veins decorated the thick length, curly black hair adorned the base.

He gulped at Y/N's staring, eyes darting away, all of a sudden feeling self-conscious. His whole body jolted as something wrapped around his length. Y/N's hand brushed up it, before gently encasing around it. Though acting confident, their shaking hands gave them away. With pleading eyes, Y/N looked up at him. "Genya, please, they paused, taking a moment to choose their next words carefully, licking their lips, "I want you.”

Genya swallowed, their words lighting a fire in his lower stomach. Only one feeling slightly embarrassed when his cock twitched in excitement in Y/N's hand. "Of course Y/N." With no more words exchanged, he leaned his top half down to lay against theirs. His lips hastily finding theirs as they molded together, tongues quick to find each other. As they sloppily made out, Genya shifted both of their positions, pulling Y/N's body closer to his and moving their legs up on either side of his hips. Lifting his chest off theirs a little bit, he moved a hand to start unbuttoning their slayer uniform, a hand keeping their hips in place. Y/N still had their hand on his cock, now slowly stroking it.

With Y/N's uniform top now completely unbuttoned, it slid down to lay loosely around their body. Their cute chest now exposed to the hungry male. His eyes Turing predatory as he observed Y/N's now exposed chest. The hand not holding their hips down moved up to their chest, delicately cupping it. His hand was big and warm, making Y/N gasp into the kiss as he squeezed at their chest.

With their lips still moving against each other, Genya's hand unexpectedly pinched Y/N's nipple. A loud whimper was shot into the kiss as their back arched off the ground and into the big hand holding their chest. Trying their best, Y/N attempted to grind down on Genya, but the hand holding their hip held them down. The sloppy kiss was broken by Y/N shoving their face into Genya's shoulder as he continued his actions of pinching and squeezing on their sensitive nipples. Their hand moved away from his dick, their arms now wrapped around the males neck. He whined at the loss of the feeling of Y/N's hand. Wanting to see the now submissive demons face, Genya pushed the shivering Y/N away from his shoulder and into the ground. The feeling of his heart beat in his cock was prevalent as the fingers digging into his shoulders. When he pulled away he saw the disheveled look on Y/N's face, drool sliding down the side of their face and now down their neck.

Fuck, he couldn't bare to wait any longer. Y/N's adorable whines made him want to push them up against the nearest tree and breed them for hours, or at least until their throat went raw from crying out his name. The arms over his shoulder shifted slightly, before something tugged harshly on his hair. Now it was his turn to arch his back, the stinging feeling leaving his eyes teary and a deep groan to escape his chest. Looking down at Y/N he saw them slyly smirking up at him. He dove down to kiss Y/N again, this time more intense than the previous one. After a few moments of exploring each others mouth, they separated, leaving a long thick string of saliva to connect them. The string of saliva broke and landed on Y/N's face, making them flinch and go cross eyed at the goop of saliva that now later over the bridge of their nose.

Chuckling at the silly display, Genya brought a hand up to wipe the spit away. Y/N appreciated this, until she saw him slip the saliva covered finger into his mouth and lick it away. Their hole clenched around nothing at the view. His face showing a teasing expression at the blushing demon. Wanting revenge at his teasing, Y/N trailed a hand secretly down in between their bodies before…

"Oh fuck~!"

Genya whined out, the rough contact of their warm hand made him buck his hips into it. Y/N moved their hand at a speedy rhythm, to through the once dominant male for a loop as he doubled over and whimpered. Pre-cum leaked thickly from the tip of his penis and over Y/N's knuckles.

Genya, who had finally regained the slightest composure, wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. He reached towards the buckle of their belt and skillfully took it off along with unbuttoning their pants. Without a care, Genya used some of that demon strength to literally rip off Y/N's pants, which made them yell a 'Hey!' at him annoyed. Caught in the moment of currently being jerked off by a warm hand and the recent adrenaline of training, he swiped their panties to the side and tested the waters by tapping a finger against their hole. Causing them to gasp out and tug at his hair.

Intertwining their fingers into the messy hair. A warm slick greeted his index finger. And soon he was plunging 3 fingers deep into Y/N as they moaned out his name. As the two teens fondled each other, night started to fall. Leaving the two bathed in only the glow of the setting sun, making the scene all the more intimate. Feeling his cock twitch in their hand, Y/N jerked a little harder than before as they watched his abs clench and him letting out a curse. Cum squirted out and onto Y/N's bare stomach, some flicking up and onto his own abs.

Y/N, who felt extremely close to the edge, did something that made Genya hard again. As his fingers continued the wrecked Y/N's hole, a hand came down from Genya's Mohawk to swipe some of the cum off their stomach, bringing it up to their lips to lap up the salty liquid, making eye contact with Genya as they did so. His eyes were now dark and clouded as he watched the scene unfold. Soon his cock came twitching back to life as Y/N's legs started to close around his hips as they were about to cum.

The warm hole wrapped around Genya's fingers tighten, leaving his fingers stuck in them as they came hard. Both at the feeling of his fingers curving up to hit their g-spot and the taste of his cum. Genya could feel the cum start to flow out of them and through his fingers, leaving a sticky mess in his palm. Genya pulled out his now drenched fingers once Y/N relaxed around them. Not wasting a second he pulled up Y/N's slightly limp body and layed them over a nearby log, hips high up in the air. He stood tall behind the bent over Y/N, stroking his cock in preparation for what was to come next. Two fingers came to thrust into their hole, making sure that they were properly stretched before Genya kneeled down and brought his hand back and quickly jerked his dick off, moving it down to graze Y/N's now leaking hole. Y/N gasped at the grazing touch, back arching as they tried to present themself more to the scarred male. Plush ass and thighs inviting the muscular teen to fuck them silly. Asking for consent to continue, he was met with a nod from Y/N's end, making eye contact with him and pleading from him to get inside them already. With no further waiting, he grabbed the slightly smaller teen by the hips and started to push the mushroom tip of his cock into Y/N. He was met with some resistance as this was clearly both of their first times. Their back arched in pain as Genya pushed past their hymen, one of the hands holding them up moved back to hold Genya's hand that was placed on their hip, comforted by the feeling of him.

Slowly, he continued to push deep into Y/N, pelvic bone finally meeting their ass. They had never felt so full, the stretch of Genya's cock made them want to be fucked like this every single day. The stretch was just so addicting. Y/N was able to feel every vein that grazed their walls, even being able to see a slight bulge in through their stomach where the tip of his dick pushed against their cervix.

Once the two accommodated to the new and extreme feeling, Genya drew his hips back a little, before pushing back into Y/N. This small movement elicited a moan from deep in Y/N, the feeling addicting. Just the sound alone was enough to make Genya continue his light thrusting, every time his hips met their ass they moaned out loud, no longer ashamed of being loud. He began to speed up, an obvious sound now present as their hips met. A loud Schlick ran though the air with a particular hard thrust. The thrust made Y/N arch their back and claw against the ground, drool starting to seep from the corners of their mouth.

Biting down on his lower lip to keep from moaning to loud, Genya started to thrust harder, a clap resonating through the forest clearing. Drool seeped from the corners of his mouth as he turned feral, his thrusts sloppy and uncoordinated. Every roll of his hips made Y/N melt into his touch, the feeling borderline heavenly. The grooves of Y/N's hole made him weak in the knees, but no matter how weak his knees felt he didn't stop thrusting hard into the submissive demon. Their bodies were drenched in sweat, both partially covered in cum as well. Feeling that knot starting to form in his stomach, he somehow got rougher, a white ring formed around the base of his dick from fucking Y/N's creamy hole. Slick coated every inch of his cock, the gooey white ring around it started to drip onto their thighs and down the log underneath them. He started to observe the body under him. Their back was arched in an almost painful looking way, shoulder blades tense. The recoil of their ass from his hips hitting it made him feel like he was going mad, as he stared when it bounced against him. Deciding to drape himself over Y/N, he kissed and licked at the back of their neck, leaving love bites in his wake. The new angle made him hit Y/N's g-spot, making them clench harshly around his thick length. The sensation made Genya growl lowly, savagely starting to suck on their neck leaving love bites all around. The knot in Y/N's stomach started to snap as the bit into their wrist, drawing blood.

Screaming through their now covered mouth their whole body shook as they came from Genya abusing their g-spot. A clear white liquid squirting out of their hole. His own breath hitched when Y/N's walls harshly clenched down on him, making him groan loudly before closing his teeth around the back of their neck, biting down hard.

Squealing at the pain, pleasure, and overstimulation, Y/N's arms gave out and their front half collapsed as Genya's hips never ceased to stop moving. Three more harsh thrusts and finally he was cumming inside them, the hot liquid making them feel strange. Coming down from both of their highs, gently, the twos faces found their way to each other, meeting in a gentle kiss. The rest of the night consisted of two new lovers resting and taking care of each other at the expense of their new found love.

BONUS:

Warm puffs of air hit Y/N's face, gently raising them from their peaceful slumber. They found themself wrapped in a pair of muscular arms. Turning to find the perpetrator, Y/N was met with the sleeping face of Genya. He look so serene, so Y/N gently leaned into press a kiss to his forehead, before snuggling back into his arms. As sleep started to deep into their mind, Y/N was rudely awaken by thundering footsteps and the sound of their bedroom door open. "Y/N WHERE WERE YOU FOR TRAINING-" Uzi was stop in his tracks, absolutely petrified by the scene in front of him. At the sound of the bedroom door slamming open, Y/N drearily looked up to see what was going on, still half asleep and a now awakening Genya beside them. Half lidded eyes explored to the room, that was until they shot open at the scene of their fumming mentor. A expression that can only be called mortified graces both the teens face at the sound hashira.

"H-hey Uzu-"

"WHAT THE FUCK-"

[thesnazzysharky]

Hot take: Monster 3 is a decent character

Out of all the creatures in this game, Babcube seems to get the least amount of attention and seems to be widely disliked. I do get it to some extent, it's not my most favorite character, but to the point of disliking it? Nah. Firstly, I've seen some claim that there's nothing to the creature itself in terms of background or lore, which isn't true. Its purpose seems to be representing some kind of symbolism. "Old Experiments" is the title of the ambience that plays in the area that Monster 3 resides in and is also the ambience that plays when Monster 3 chases you in Endless Mode (albeit only in the og version of sjsm). Simply going off the name and the fact that it's associated with Monster 3 gives some disturbing implications. That being, at some point amidst the chaos that Ghost Cow was causing in the hospital, a literal infant (or possibly multiple infants) were involved in some way. Infants that were involved in some twisted experiments that somehow birthed the creation of... that (do remember that this is the same game that directly references Unit 731).

Either Monster 3 is supposed to be that infant or infants merged into one or Monster 3 could be a paranormal manifestation of the pain those infants went through. The pain of being trapped down below in the hospital, which is represented through the box containing the baby head, and eventually succumbing to whatever experiments were performed by the possessed staff. That is what Babcube symbolizes. Some extremely fucked up shit was happening down there (which was already made pretty evident by Monster 4, the Hanged Man). It might not be much, but the implications are definitely there. That's kinda the point of the monsters and is what separates them from the specimens. The DLC tells you jack shit about its creatures. Leaving things up entirely to your own interpretation and speculation. Karamari Hospital is all about its mystery. It's why, although pretty funny, I'm not a big fan of Wambu's "How a body got the bag" story apparently becoming Monster 2's canon backstory. It feels like it misses the point of Monster 2 and Karamari Hospital as a whole. But that's just my take. Secondly, its design. It's very simple. An infant's head in a rusty cube. Yet it still manages to be unnerving and bizarre. Frankly the most bizarre creature in this whole entire game in my opinion.

"Well that's just weird" isn't the only aspect to its design however. It's just very unnatural and uncanny in general. The way it glitches in and out of existence as it slowly moves towards you. The way the head itself clearly resembles that of an infant, yet it subtly doesn't 100% look like one, with the closed eyes, wrinkled face, and unnatural looking mouth and nose, making it strike the uncanny valley. With the face looking even worse when it randomly distorts.

And the sounds... dear god I fucking hate the sounds this thing makes. Similar to how the face resembles an infants, the sounds from Babcube resembles the crying and wailing of an infant, but there's that uncanny valley again. It sounds like a crying infant... but not fully. Its crying sounds muted and croaky. Not loud like a regular infant, but definitely odd and strange. Combine all of this together and you get a creatures that's disturbing to ponder about, unnerving to look at, and uncomfortable to listen to or even be around. A creature that feels like it shouldn't exist, yet it does. A creature that really makes my skin crawl. Not in a downright scared or horrified way, but in a "what the fuck am I even looking at or hearing" kind of way. A creature that I just feel really bad for and wonder what happened to birth it.

Like I said, it's not my most favorite character, but I don't dislike it either and I appreciate what they add to the game and the atmosphere of the hidden basement. I don't dislike or think any of the enemies in sjsm are bad in fact. Some are weaker than others, but I think they all add a little bit of flavor that makes this game so enjoyable and cool to me.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi hello! Are your requests open? If so, I'd like to, uh, request a hero x villain (as usual lol)

So a hero that's smart with words got hurt and tries to hide it from the stoic villain. And the villain tries their best to make hero understand that "for the love of God. Let me take care of you you idiot."

(ps: villain is like, so much taller than the Hero because i very much like height differences)

Thanks in advance!!!!!!!!!!🫡

“Holy shit.” The villain looked down at the bloody hand pressed against the hero’s stomach. For the entire evening, the hero had acted weird and this was the answer, apparently. “Holy fucking shit. You’re bleeding out—”

And the hero was, in fact, bleeding out. Gutted open. It was a miracle that they were still standing.

“Tiny gash, love,” they answered but their swaying from side to side was technically screaming for help. “Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“Sorry, but that looks scarily unfixable.” The villain rushed to their side and put their arm around the hero’s hips, holding them up. Somehow they tried to ignore how the hero’s shoulder dug into their chest but it was rather difficult to concentrate when the hero was half-whimpering and taking deep breaths to calm down.

They were close, unwillingly holding onto the villain because they would have no other choice but to fall if they didn’t.

“I’d prefer the term challengingly benign. I am still alive!” Apparently, the hero’s next movement send a shiver of pain through them. At least, their hand clutching at the villain’s clothes suggested that. Hot breath against the villain’s neck, a whispered “fuck.”

“Fucking idiot,” the villain said but the only answer was a gasp. “No walking.”

“Yes walking, you can let go of me. Pretty, please.” It changed the meaning. It struck the villain like lightning for whatever reason. But how the hero said it, how they delivered it…The villain didn’t know if that was intentional or not — they never knew with the hero — but it had sounded like it was exactly that. On purpose.

Pretty please.

Pretty, please.

The pause. Slowly, the villain could feel heat rush to their cheeks but they pulled themselves together. Being overly sensitive to compliments shouldn’t have been a problem in a situation like this.

“No,” they said. “Lay down.”

There was little protest left within the hero as the villain lowered them. Both of them were fully aware that people with superpowers could endure pain and injuries more than others but at this point, the villain and the hero were surprised that the latter was still conscious.

“Dude, they butchered me.” The hero looked down at their stomach and hissed when they touched the swollen flesh around a cut. The blood soaked through their entire suit which was already ruined by the many wounds.

“Don’t dude me,” the villain said sharply, ears red as they tried to find a sedative in their pockets. “We’re not buddies.”

“No,” the hero said, suddenly quite serious. Breathing was getting difficult. For both of them. “We’re definitely not.”

The villain bit their lip in frustration and decided to press the rest of their bandages into the wound, praying that the bleeding would stop soon. For the whole time, the hero’s half-lidded eyes were on them, observing carefully what happened.

“I don’t want your help,” the hero whispered.

“Then try to stop me.”

To that, the hero didn’t say anything. Eventually, they moved their hand and let it rest on the villain’s. Together, they pressed into the hero’s stomach, reducing the blood flow.

“Who did this?” the villain asked, ignoring how the hero’s hand was on theirs, not moving, just touching.

“Some crazy ex.” The hero shrugged and held onto the villain’s wrist, laughing humourlessly. “Some people are like tumours. You have to cut them out.”

“Very dramatic, even for you.”

“I mean it.” The hero was weaker now. Slow words and blinking as if time itself had slowed down. “Some people are poison.”

The villain didn’t know if that was indirectly hinting at the hero’s hidden hatred for them or if that was just the blood loss talking. But before they could even doubt themselves, the hero saw right through them.

“I don’t mean you. You’re lovely.”

“You’re an idiot,” the villain said.

“And you’re in love with an idiot, how about that?”

In that moment, the villain cursed their hero. Cursed them for getting injured, cursed them for being the way they were. Cursed them, cursed them, cursed them for offering this microscopic chance of hope.

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Ten - By First Light

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

It was well past midnight when you returned to the keep. There was a fresh gash in your side.

The job you were sent on was supposed to be simple. Just a wolf spotted near a farm owned by an elderly couple. They couldn’t afford to hire a mercenary themselves, so they came to the Jarl for assistance.

And who did he send out? You.

And what did you find? A pack of wolves. Easily seven of them. You took care of them, of course, but not before one got a nasty swipe at your side.

No, you have not been able to sleep yet. Your brain feels like it’s being squeezed by a giant’s hands. Your eyes feel sunken into your skull.

It certainly is not helping your general attitude, either.

With one hand pressing into the wound, you limped slightly into the keep and towards the throne room. You always reported to Chan first thing before going to wash up.

The gash wasn’t too deep at all, it was more annoying than anything. With your healing abilities, it will most likely be closed by the morning, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a bitch.

It looks much worse than it is. To anyone passing by, you look like you’re bleeding out.

Silence fills the hallways of the keep. Your boots drag along the stone with uneven steps. 

“Fucking wolves,” you grumble under your breath, “Demons straight from The Void.”

There’s only been one instance of Chan being asleep when you’ve gone to report in from a mission. Tonight apparently makes two.

But the throne room is not empty, no, there’s one person standing at a table.

Minho’s back was towards you, he was sitting at a chair at the end closest to you. If there was a plate of food in front of him, you couldn’t tell.

You’re about to turn to leave but he speaks up.

“He’s asleep.” He says without turning to look at you.

“I pieced that together.” Your voice comes out much weaker than you intended.

‘Damn this wound.’ You think to yourself.

This makes Minho turn to look at you with an eyebrow cocked. His eyes quickly scan your figure, hovering on the hand that’s holding your side.

He tongues his cheek and turns back around.

“I did not think a simple wolf was too much for the all-mighty mercenary.” He chides.

You roll your eyes and sneer at the back of his head. “One is not. Once the number climbs to about six or seven it becomes a bit difficult.”

Minho nods his head and picks up the tankard in front of him, taking a long swig.

You shift your weight from foot to foot. “I will speak to him in the morning then.”

The way to your room is through the throne room. Meaning you have to walk past Minho.

A log crackles in the fire.

Taking a deep breath, you take painful steps towards the doorway across the room, each intake of breath feels like needles in your side.

“Should you not be going to see Felix?” Minho calls across the room.

You do not stop walking. “Do not pretend to care.” You roll your eyes, not that he sees it. “I will be fine by the morning.”

“You’re bleeding on the floor.”

“I am fine.” You grit. “Goodnight, Minho.”

Minho sighs.

“Some days I believe you to be intelligent, others you prove yourself to be witless.”

A shot of anger goes through your chest and you finally stop walking. You turn in place, hand still holding your wound tightly.

“Do not speak to me like that, Minho.” You growl. “Have we not had this talk before or are you the witless one who cannot remember a conversation that was had a month ago?”

You make sure to put extra venom into your words, teeth bared and eyebrows furrowed. The room grows warmer as your blood boils.

Minho stares at you from his seated position at the table. Even from a distance you can see the anger flashing in his eyes with a dangerous glint.

You were playing with fire here.

“Has it only been a month?” His voice low, “Did it only take a month for you to find your way into a second court member’s bed?”

Your jaw drops and your eye twitches, “What has possessed you?” You ask incredulously.

Minho sticks a grape in his mouth, one eyebrow raised in a cocky manner. “First the Squire, now the Rogue. Who is next? The Mage?”

The Rogue? Is he referring to you leaving dinner with Seungmin two days ago? What is he on?

Hotter and hotter your anger boils. Every time you think you’ve taken a step forward with Minho, he launches himself ten paces back.

You’re so shocked at his words that you can’t even form proper words. Where is this coming from?

“I— what are you saying?” You sputter.

Suddenly, you can’t even feel the wound in your side. Your attention is on the advisor and his wild accusations.

“I watched you leave dinner with that dopey smile on your face. Do not pretend to be ignorant.”

Is he serious?

“Seungmin wanted to tell me something pertaining to an assignment he completed but did not want any prying ears to hear it!” You bark at him, taking a step in his direction. “What is this all about?”

Minho rolls his eyes and looks at the wall to his left, away from you.

“You spend every moment of your spare time with another man, what is one supposed to think, Y/N? I am not stupid, no one in this court is.”

“Why do you see me as no more than a common whore? Have I not proved myself worthy of being among you? Or do I need to run my sword through your chest before you finally listen to me?”

Minho snaps his head over to you, a sneer on his face. “Is that a threat?”

“Typically when someone insults my honor, I do not sit there and take it.”

Minho rolls his eyes, “You do not sit there and take it? Pity, and here I thought the men gave lay to you for a reason.”

That was it.

In a blink, you marched over to where he sat at the table, with one blood soaked hand and one clean one, you grabbed the pristine collar of his shirt and yanked him from his chair.

Both of your noses were only about a centimeter apart. Your eyes were full of venom and hatred.

“I am not a whore. I am a mercenary who has fought tooth and nail to be the woman I am.”

Minho’s one hand plants on the tabletop and the other grabs your wrist in a vice grip. His eyes are glaring at you with an equal amount of anger and something else you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Why is it the moment I speak with a man you point your finger at me calling me a tramp? Every member on the Jarl’s court is a man. Am I supposed to keep to myself and never speak to a soul?” You tighten your grip on his collar and his does so as well on your wrist. “Why can you not treat me with the respect I deserve?”

The two of you stare so closely into the other’s eyes. Minho’s teeth are bared in a growl like state.

“You know,” you say with an evil smirk, “If I did not know any better, I may even say that you were jealous, Lee Minho.”

A wall of emotion flashes through his eyes, his pupils dilate and an actual growl tears from his throat.

Faster that you can blink, you’re turned around, an arm wrapped around your neck. He’s placed you in a sleeper hold from across the dining table.

Your back screams from the awkward angle. The wound in your side feels like it’s leaking even more.

“Jealous?” He gnarls in your ear. “Let us make one thing crystal clear. I am not jealous, I am angry that you believe you could simply seduce your way into my men’s beds when you had nothing nice to say about Miroh since your arrival.”

You struggle against his hold, his grip on your neck only tightens. “Do you not think that if I hated Miroh that I would have left a long while ago? What is holding me here? Nothing. Are you only seething because it is not your bed that I am trying to land in?”

His breath is hot against your ear, he exhales with each movement that you make against him in an attempt to keep you there. His hold may be like concrete, but you sure were giving him a rough time.

Minho squeezes your throat and a cry falls from your lips at the pressure. He’s one step away from cutting off your oxygen.

Thrashing against his arm, you pull and pull on his forearm but he doesn’t budge. “Do you truly not see the respect I have for this hold? Do you not see that I regret that way of thinking? But what else was I supposed to think when it was all I was fed my entire life!

“The Jarl is starting a war to free the Elves of Erbus. I am prepared to sacrifice my life in order to see that happen and you think that I am simply acting as a cock warmer for your court.”

With one last thrash, you finally yank yourself away from Minho. Your body turns and you stare daggers at him.

He’s looking at you differently, there’s still plenty of anger, but his eyes are moving all around your face. Both of your chests are heaving from exertion.

Minho opens his mouth to say something but a door slamming open takes both of your attention.

Your hand flies to your sword and Minho turns his entire body towards the door, hand at the dagger on his belt.

Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw what it was.

The messenger slumped against the door, his hair wet and greasy. His entire body was covered in dirt and soot, every article of clothing on his body was ruined.

But that’s not what made your heart sink.

Blood streamed down the sides of his head on both sides. He’s holding his stomach the same way that you came in doing, but both of his hands were completely stained red.

His hair draped in front of his face, but the skin you could see was beaten and bruised.

Blood is oozing through his fingers and leaving puddles on the floor.

The messenger lifted his head as much as he could. Both of his eyes were swollen and black. His lip was split and there were several gashes and chunks missing from his skin.

Bile rose in your throat.

You hadn’t seen someone this horrible looking since…

“He’s an Elf,” you choke out, “we sent an Elf to Erbus.”

“Get Chan.” Minho commanded, taking large steps towards the door where the messenger fell to his knees. “Now, Y/N!” He barked and your feet were moving.

“Guards!” You heard Minho scream as you sprinted out of the throne room, “Someone get Felix! NOW, GET HIM NOW.”

As fast as your feet allowed you, you sprinted through the keep. You had never been inside Chan’s room, you had only known where it was.

You were peeling around corners, the exhaustion you felt previously nowhere to be found.

An Elf. They sent an Elf.

His ears. They cut off his ears. Your throat tightened and you willed yourself to run faster.

As soon as his door was in sight, you screamed. “My lord!” You yelled, as soon as you got to the door, you started banging on the wood as hard as you could with your fists.

“My lord! Get up! My lord!” Over and over again you bang until the door is ripped open by an extremely startled Chan.

His hair is tossed and messy, eyes wide and alarmed with his mouth open in shock.

Chan’s eyes are wild as he looks your body up and down. He stops at the wound on your side, but you don’t give him enough time to say anything.

“The messenger, my lord.” You pant out desperately. “He was an Elf, my lord. He is back. He was an Elf,” you repeat and tears well up in your eyes even more. “My Lord, they— they—“

Chan doesn’t give you enough time to finish. His face shifts to a look of absolute horror, his face pales and he stumbles back a step.

You reach forward as quick as you can and grab his wrist. “Minho sent me to fetch you, please. My lord we have to go,” you beg him and pull his wrist.

Chan’s face hardens, but he makes no move to take his wrist from your hand. You pull him out of his room and down the hall.

Within a few seconds, he snaps out of his stupor and the two of you run through the halls together. After rounding the first corner, you drop his wrist.

“Where?” He barks.

“I know not if they brought him to the healing ward or if he’s still in the throne room.” You respond.

This time, it’s Chan’s turn to snatch your arm, he pulls you into a side hallway and both of you continue running at a decent clip.

It was now that you notice his lack of clothes.

He’s shirtless and only wearing a pair of soft cotton trousers. By the sound of his feet hitting the stone, he’s barefoot. The only thing covering him is a deep red silk robe around his shoulders, but it’s not tied in the front.

The robe billows behind him as the two of you run.

Within a minute, you’re bursting through the doors of the healing ward.

His choice in coming here was the correct one. 

Minho and another guard are standing against the wall while a disheveled looking Felix does everything in his power to close the wounds on the messenger’s body.

Minho’s hands and clothes are covered in blood and his eyes are wild.

Both of Felix’s hands are emanating a yellow glow as he attempts to use restoration magic. His palms pressed to either side of the messengers head, cupping where his ears should be.

The messenger appears to have passed out. His body limp in the bed, not even his fingers twitching.

You and Chan walk into the room, you stay closer to the door and Chan marches over to the bed, looking down at the messenger.

A gasp tears from Chan’s throat and his hand flies over his mouth in pure shock.

“What happened to him?” Chan demands.

Sweat is dripping down Felix’s face mixing with his own tears. Violent sobs are wracking his chest.

“I know not!” He cries, “I have never seen anything like this before. This cruelty is beyond even what you would find in The Void.”

The light surrounding his hands keeps flickering.

“He is so young, Chan. I’m trying, I am but his wounds are beyond my skill.”

“Then get Hyunjin. You,” he points to the guard. “Go!” Chan commands to the guard who takes off out of the room.

“Hyunjin won’t be able to do anything, Chan. There’s nothing else we can-“

“Try, Felix.” His voice is so stern, yet it’s cracking. Chan reaches down and grabs one of the messenger’s arms gently yet tightly.

Your throat tightens and the tears that were sitting in your eyes finally fall.

They did this to him. They tortured this boy. He couldn’t have been older than twenty winters. This poor boy who was just doing his job.

They cut off his ears, beat his body until he couldn’t move.

“Chan I do not think-“ Felix cries but Chan cuts him off.

“Keep going.” He begs with a hard, even voice. “Keep trying.”

“Chan it is not working!” Felix cries back.

“Fucking— Keep going, Felix!“ Chan bellows, his voice catching at the end.

“It is not WORKING.” Felix screams.

Chan turns away from the bed with his face hidden in his elbow. The Jarl walks away and towards the wall opposite of where Minho stood.

“I cannot.” Felix cries, his eyes staying on the boy’s broken body. Tears are streaming down his face and onto the sheets. “Chan, he is-“

Felix is cut off again by Chan slamming his fist into the wall. A roar tears from his throat and his head falls against the stone next.

Silent sobs wrack your chest, you try to stay as silent as possible. The tears falling from your cheeks down to the stone floor.

“Chan.” Felix calls out with a shaky voice.

The Jarl makes no move, he keeps his head against the wall.

The soft light of magic that was coming from Felix’s hands flickers out. Hard, violent sobs come from his throat as he reaches over and grabs the messenger’s hand.

Almost every finger is broken and bent the wrong way. Felix holds it as if anything as gentle as a breath would break them more.

His knees buckle and he falls to the floor, still holding the messenger’s hand.

Minho is silent as he walks over to the bed. Carefully, he reaches over and parts the messengers tunic towards the top.

Sobs fill the room.

“What are you doing, Minho?” Felix asks through cries. He stands up shaking from the floor to watch his movements.

As soon as his sentence comes out, a startled gasp follows it. Both you and Chan look over.

Minho’s face is pulled into the angriest expression you’ve ever seen him muster. Those dirty looks he gave you in the throne room are nothing compared to this.

You and Chan both took careful steps towards the bed.

A gasp left your throat just like Felix’s when you saw it.

Chan’s declaration of war.

It was nailed into the messenger’s chest. Blood soaked each entrance wound.

You felt nauseous, the world was spinning. His cruelty knows no bounds. Your eyes squint shut to try and stop the tears from flowing even faster.

The floor seems to tilt and you have to sit down on the bed behind you to try and get your bearings.

Chan was eerily silent. But you just knew that he was positively seething.

“Minho. Please go wake up Changbin.” His voice is entirely too even, too calculated. He is past the point of anger.

You open your eyes and look over at the Jarl. His eyes are fixed on the letter still on the messenger’s chest.

“I want our soldiers ready to march by first light.” His voice strong and calm. “Sisk Killoran will know terror before the end.”

[inkbybambi]

dbf!joel miller when the fallout arrives —

words: 1k rating: there are allusions to smut but nothing explicit. however, my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, no happy ending, brief mentions of smut, picking cuticles and biting nails. if i miss anything, please let me know! notes: sorry in advance.

the fallout had been nothing less than catastrophic.

your father — you've never seen him so blind with rage, before. spewing vitriol and venom, mainly towards joel. it's unfair, you want to cry, you were part of it too. joel tried to be reasonable and rational at the beginning and you — you kissed him anyway.

you can't blame him, not really. some part of you knew it was always going to end like this.

it's been weeks since you've spoken with either of them. maybe a month, maybe a little more. you don't want to know, and you're not keeping track. time blurs together when you're barely making it one moment to the next.

joel hasn't reached out. you can’t blame him, either, but you can't deny that it hurts.

you thought that he might’ve fought back, stood his ground about your relationship. telling your father how much the relationship meant to him, how much you meant to him. anything that made it seem like he was doing something, anything he could to keep you.

you thought wrong, apparently.

the truth fucking hurts.

it's hard to eat, hard to sleep. you keep worrying about him. is he able to sleep okay? is he reading over your messages, wanting to type an olive branch out, remembering everything he said to you? is it eating him up at fucking all?

did it even mean anything to him?

"hey."

your father, surprisingly, was the one to reach out first. far too long after the entire ordeal happened. it makes your heart ache at the thought that it's been that long. that he's been able to — somewhat — come to terms with it and he's willing to talk. he offered to have you over one evening after work. not for dinner or anything, just to talk.

you should take what you can get, you suppose.

there isn't anything left for you to lose.

his voice is rough as you sit across from him at the table. you can't find the courage to say anything back.

the silence stretches.

you pick at your cuticles, blood seeping into the open wounds when you pull back your skin too far.

"he hasn't talked to me," you offer, chancing a look at him, after a few moments of silence that hang too heavy, a weight ready to drop and crush whatever is beneath it. "since..." you trail off, swallowing hard as you beg yourself to not cry. "i haven't... haven't tried, either."

your father nods, fingers tapping on the wood. if he's even a little bit happy about that, he doesn't show.

"it's better this way," you continue, voice weaker, unsure who you're trying to convince.

you bite at your nail. it's a nasty habit you've never been able to break.

"he'll find someone — " you inhale hard, let it out shaky. you don't want to think of him with someone else, someone who's not you. you don't want to think of him kissing someone else, holding them at night like he'll protect them from everything, whisper the sweetest promises in their ear while he takes them apart piece by piece with his mouth and fingers and —

"someone better," you manage to finish, if not a little pained.

you should've kissed him more. lingered in his arms a little longer in the mornings, in the evenings after he cleaned you up from the mess between your legs. you wish you had burned the memory of his smile into your veins — into your blood, into the smallest pieces of yourself that mattered — the one reserved for you, lighting you up like fire, keeping you warm in the unbearable moments you weren't with him.

all that's left is ash.

your father still says nothing. still won't look at you.

"it wasn't him." your father needs to understand. when you thought of the fallout — and you thought it inevitable, as it was — you never thought joel would lose everything too.

you don't know why you didn't think that. your father is understanding, but not that understanding.

you don't know why you're trying to defend joel, either. he doesn't seem to have tried the same, and he sure as shit didn't try when everything was being doused in kerosene and left to ignite.

"do you want him to find someone else?" you don't know why he asks, and you don't want to answer.

a bit of your nail came loose when you were biting it, and now you pick at it, tearing it off. destroying yourself in these small manners so there's less of you left to drag home when it's all over. glass lines your throat, making it hard to swallow, harder to breathe.

"it doesn't matter," you answer, and now he is looking at you, eyes dark and unforgiving. your heart shatters at the thought, but you never were particularly good at letting things go, letting them leave.

"no," he agrees, and it grates like broken steel, palm flat on the table as he leans back, monitoring your every movement. "it doesn't."

"i'm sorry," you offer, weak. tears burn your eyes, and you dig your fingers into your palms, biting at the skin, trying to focus the pain on anything other than your heart.

it beats, uncomfortable and heavy like lead, as it has for the past few weeks, as you fear it will until you die.

"you wouldn't have done it in the first place if you were," he bites out.

you bite the inside of your cheek, eyes closing as the tears begin to fall. he pushes back from the table — you hear the scrape of his chair. you sniffle, trying to hold back the sob that wants to break free.

you should say something — cry, beg, something to make him understand. you can't. your voice is locked, stuck in your throat as you fight to keep breathing.

your father wants to say something too, you can feel it.

but he never does, and he leaves you in the kitchen with a single light on, leaving you to the silence of blood thrumming uncomfortably in your veins and your heart beating like it's going to stop.

[finedinereception]

Why is Sirius on your brain SO much?

Explain in Mario terms

make my brain go -flag pole noise-

haha okay but actually here we go. this is disorganized and more me vomiting my thoughts out and making you look at him but yknow.

the black hole server: the most soul sucking and messed up place to live since america

thanks for the insightful commentary, buddy

so sirius lives the life of the average True Gamer, in a dark hole full of anime figurines and merchandise or whatever. he likes adding to that collection and then fucking around with it because bloodsport really never died to him. who cares what ign had to say.

unfortunately, like all gamers, his home is not hospitable to most life.

weaker em beings apparently “enervate and die” within the server. thats delightfully fucked up, and honestly, a vast empty, dark, cold space that sucks the life out of pretty much everything around it and is only truly habitable to one lifeform is an insanely cool idea that i always love.

uh…. roche limit????

obviously, with such an unfriendly gamer den, sirius himself does not get a lot of company.

we’ll come back to this next section.

but basically the black hole server is a really cool idea and location that really serves to emphasize what an outside-context issue sirius is. he feels very “other” in this world, in part thanks to where hes made his home.

with friends like these, who needs mega man?

sirius has some… interesting ideas about what is good and reasonable for people. or what constitutes a healthy platonic relationship. actually just relationships in general.

i think its interesting he jumped straight to this with mega man, when he also harbored apollo flame, who was pretty damn open about his intentions to eventually usurp and subjugate sirius

WHICH SIRIUS WAS AWARE OF BTW

apollo flame! oh, you, always on about taking over the universe!

this is weird to say, with what we know about sirius in general and his personality (which we’ll be getting to soon) but… theres this pervasive sense that he views the Rs as a mix between pawns and, like, his perverse version of “friends”

the use of “our” here is interesting, along with the implication that sirius shares more information with them than he actually needs to

and the fact that sirius has the tendency to start talking to himself in the middle of a conversation…

and the fact that he enforces a friendly relationship between those who dont get along…

theres just a weird sense of sirius “playing” with dynamics, and while its certainly useful to him, its easy to imagine a hint of curiousity in there. the exploration of one of the only things that cant be taken by force.

of course you have blue skin and pronouns

look at him. look at him. hes based on a squid. hes got that squid drip. i think sirius would be into deep sea life. im choosing to view this as an in-character choice. he likes squid now, okay?

also. he canonically sparkles. LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT THIS SPARKLING SQUID TWINK. GOD. HE MAKES ME INSANE.

i also dont know where else to mention this, but hey what was up with mu metal. is he tied to mu. what was that about lmao. bro got pica.

he has 97 mental illnesses and is banned from most public spaces

he is so fucking stupid😭

the main, and final, thing i want to bring up is his extreme case of blue and orange morality. because being rude is worse than destroying a planet to him.

from here on out ill be using direct quotes since i actually have access to these and writing and ive hit image limit. what can i say theres so much i want you to look at.

Sirius: ... I don't need that rude EM being for my collection. 

and

Sirius: I was hoping to enjoy watching everyone on the planet panic for a bit... But I suppose destroying it outright would be fun too. 

back to back is an interesting display of standards. but id go further and argue that… sirius doesnt really act with malice.

MegaMan: Peoples lives... Planets... They aren't toys for you to play with. Have you even considered the pain you are putting all those people down there though? Sirius: Everything here will cease to exist. A black hole has no need for such things as emotions. You should... be happy. You will live forever within the darkness. You will be mine. MegaMan: I wouldn't call that living! I'd rather not exist! Sirius: ...I see. Do you think that you might change your mind? Stopping you without causing you any injury would be a bit of a nuisance to me. It will be hard for us to play together with you injured.

and you could argue that this is an attempt at persuasion… except that sirius doesnt really need that. hes pretty confident in his ability to win a fight, so id argue this is genuinely just how he thinks. his fascination with destroying things is processed not with malicious intent but the same perverse curiosity that drives a child to pour water on an ant hill.

mean spirited? yeah, but its all in good fun to him.

hes the living version of all those jokes about a person who never talks to other people or goes outside or anything. hes had his own little bubble to develop the most deranged moral compass and interal narrative of all time.

tl;dr - ITS HARD TO NOT THINK ABOUT HIM A LOT

[oryu404]

Alrighty guys. I know a lot of us had hoped for Rei to get a cat at the end. It's obvious he has a soft spot for them, he deserves the world, give that man his cat, am I right? And there have to be plenty of strays where they live, too. A food establishment by the beach.

So how about this...

---

The first stray sighting happens shortly after they've moved. Kazuki sees Rei looking at the cat, hesitant but obviously wanting to approach it, and says something like

"Nuh uh. Not gonna happen."

They argue. Kazuki isn't thrilled about the idea of adding a pet to the chaos that is their life at the moment, but Rei did prove himself as a caretaker and responsible adult over the past year. Not to mention he's a lot better at fighting for what he wants than he was last time they had this conversation, and Kazuki finds it endearing enough to almost cave.

But pets aren't cheap, their daughter is going to get more expensive as she grows older, and they have a business to run. It's not really a no; it's a not now. They should get settled here first, see how well the diner fares. Maybe they can talk about it again in another year?

Rei begrudgingly agrees, because Kazuki does have a decent point there. He's pouty for the rest of the day.

For a while, Kazuki doesn't really notice anything different. They're way too busy building up their brand new life. But as the dust settles and their new routines start to become familiar, some things start to stand out.

Like Rei happily taking out the trash every night. Like, very happily, as if he'd been looking forward to it. He always takes his sweet time doing it, too. Surely dumping a few trash bags into a container wouldn't take that long. Not that Kazuki would ever complain or comment, because the guy was disabled, for fuck's sake.

Another thing is the strays he keeps spotting. Had there always been this many? Were they reproducing that fast? Kazuki shrugs it off. It makes sense, they're likely not getting spayed or neutered. And of course they'd hang around the diner. It's doing quite well, apparently drawing in more than just customers with its delicious smells. Ahhh the magic of good cooking.

It's not until things from their pantry and fridge go missing, that an internal alarm bell goes off. Leftover chicken or salmon, Hamburg steaks, sausages, cans of tuna. He barely dodges another fight with Miri when he assumes she's eaten them (what? She's a growing girl? He can't blame her for being hungry!) but manages a last minute save. Rei is awfully quiet during this whole conversation, but confesses to his crimes later that night when Miri is asleep in her bed.

"I have to show you something."

And Kazuki wonders if he should be surprised when Rei leads him downstairs, outside through the back, where he squats down and cracks the lip of a can of tuna with one hand. The sound summons what have to be at least a dozen cats from various different directions, all meowing loudly as they twirl around Rei and headbutt his hands and legs.

"I don't need to get a cat anymore," Rei says as if he hasn't officially adopted the whole neighborhood pack.

"I bet," Kazuki sighs, helping him open the can and dump the Tuna on the concrete. "Miri... Is she your accomplice?"

".... Maybe."

So a yes, then. Not that it matters, because Rei might be the closest to beaming he'll ever get, and Kazuki is only slightly weaker to his partner than he is to their daughter. Which is to say, he's totally screwed.

"They stay outside," is all he says, squatting down beside Rei to pet the cat closest to him.

A few days later, Miri's latest masterpiece–a donation jar with cat decorations– graces the countertop of the diner. After all, they'll need to help do something about the population control before they go broke feeding strays.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 32 - Munchies

Gale is hungry and not for food. So is Astarion, and that innuendo IS intended.

On AO3.

So, y’all nearly lose Lae’zel. Mostly because outta the three options y’all got, “searching for the hidden location of a bunch of lizard murder hobos” sounded like the longest, most involved, and most dangerous one.

Lae’zel takes it about as well as can be expected. She cuts one of her training dummies into pieces with a single-minded viciousness that makes you wonder who’s face she’s projecting onto it.

She does end up staying, though.

Then there’s the western route. Y’all murdered druids so Halsin could have a smooth transition back into power if 1. Y’all even find him, 2. He ain’t dead, and 3. Y’all ain’t dead. Three steps makes this one slightly less of a pain but still not ideal.

So then there’s old Auntie Ethel.

You show Gale the map she gave you, with her house marked on it—damn thing is enchanted and he eyeballs it real weird. There’s only her house and a mark he says is some kinda wayfinder rune stone thingamabob.

To which Wyll chimes in about the rampaging demon woman you kinda roped all y’all into dealing with.

To which Gale puffs up, lifts his hands, and opens a fucking portal.

“Jesus fuck,” you say. “How the fuck long have you been sitting on that?”

“Will it trap us in a stone?” Astarion says, having decided to grace y’all with his presence, though he seems kinda put out by it.

Not long, Gale explains. And also no, on the stone thing.

Gale took a hit after waking up in a portal after the butthole ship went down. Shadowheart and the others chime in with the same. Spells weaker. Some unsteady (Gale says with a pointed look at Astarion, who dodges it) or unusable. Only Astarion seems to have netted positives (which sends him preening for about five minutes).

But their strength is returning, gradually. Gale had felt his magic capacity (“connection with the Weave, Eleanor” so now you’re calling it his mojo) increasing every day. So now he can cast this. Apparently, it connects to that rune stone thing on the map by Auntie’s house. As best you understand it (in between zoning out) it’s kinda a train station (or subway, since it “tunnels between the fabrics of the realms”). Y’all’ve seen weird marks carved into big rocks; those are the waypoints.

You call them teleporters, cause that’s what they seem like to you and you couldn’t follow his detailed explanation all the way through. It ain’t like you can use magic anyway.

As none of y’all want to spend the night at some stranger’s house in god-knows-where, y’all break for the night to settle in.

But Gale catches you before you get far. Up close, you can see sweat on his brow. He’s trying hard to hold himself straight, project calm and coolness as usual. But there’s a strain around his eyes that you ain’t seen before.

“May I have a word?” he says.

Only Astarion lingers, idly swirling a cup of wine near the fire. He looks up as you glance his way, but then you look to Gale again.

“Sure,” you say.

He leads you off a bit, out of earshot of most of camp. Stops at the tree you and Wyll had chatted under.

There, he tries to slap on a smile. But there’s tension around his eyes, and even the smile seems to twitch with effort.

“We’ve been on the road together for some time now, haven’t we?” he says. “Survived some perils, overcame some obstacles. Ever since you were kind enough to pull me from that stone, I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and generosity.”

This is a speech, you realize. Man’s practiced this. He’s usually expressive when he talks; waves his hands a bit and his face is animated. Here, he’s still and forced-pleasant. You watch him sharper as he goes on; having delivered the opening sentence, he backs that up with exaggerated examples you ain’t sure even he believes.

“In short, I’ve grown to trust you,” he says. And there’s the thesis.

“Okay?” you say.

He waits a pause. Probably expected something more, and when you don’t elaborate, he sort of stumbles into the next part. Uses more words than he needs to (he must be one of those people who get a “five page essay” assignment and turn that sucker into fifteen pages, single-spaced) to get to the next part. “You see, I have this… condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly.”

You frown. “What kinda condition?”

Much better than leading with “is it contagious”, which you want to do.

“The specifics are rather personal. Suffice to say, it’s a malady I’ve learned to live with. Though not without some effort.”

Like slamming down both a dirt and a blood potion in the morning. The man makes these for you. He was one of the first of them (Shadowheart being the actual first) who tried to help you. And he cooks for y’all. You owe the man your time and attention.

And then he says he needs a magic item. Which, okay? There’s gotta be plenty of those around Faerun, right?

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it weren’t vital—dare I say it, critical,” he says. “I may have, ah, pushed it aside for too long, now. The need has become severe.”

You nod, but then catch his glance. You got your arms folded, and your glowing ring lights his face in soft blue in the shade of twilight. Your first, real jewelry. Your enchanted jewelry.

“I know the allure magical items possess. I understand their value, and their power. All this to say: I understand the sacrifice I ask of you, and I promise, you will be rewarded with any and all means at my disposal.”

Again, the flicker of his gaze. The raw hunger in his eyes. Except it’s not just hunger, is it? That’s fear tightening his jaw and drawing a line between his brows.

“What happens if you don’t get an item?” you say.

He loses the last few threads of fake charm. His face goes entirely grim. “It’s already started, I’m afraid. And as you’ve probably noticed. I’ll spare you the finer details, but it begins with simple biological deterioration. Muscle spasms, disorientation, a slight ringing in the ears. And, if left for too long…catastrophe. And not just for myself.”

Jesus on a pogo stick. Only now do you notice the tremor in his hands. The hands he’s carefully left hanging at his sides, rather than draw attention to them as…as he normally does goddamnit.

“Why in the fuck didn’t you say something sooner?” And what the fuck is it about this group of screwheads not letting anybody else know they’re literally starving or like, melting from the fucking inside? These fucking people.

To this, Gale winces. “I don’t intend to impugn what I’ve now seen is your good character…”

“But we’re all a bunch of strangers on a butthole ship. Yeah, okay, I probably didn’t need to ask that.”

A lizard murder hobo, a vampire, and now a wizard with a chronic illness. What the fuck are Shadowheart and Wyll hiding?

You look at the ring. The one good thing in all this. The first actually nice thing you’ve ever had.

But Gale don’t look well at all. And he’s helped you so much in all this. You probably owe him your life, and it’s bad group dynamics to let one of them stumble and fall.

You sigh.

The second you get something nice, the universe comes to snatch it away. As usual.

You try to ignore the way your throat tightens as you wiggle the ring off your pinkie. It’s not even that nice of a ring and it was too small to begin with. And Faerun is littered with more. This was probably their version of one of them quarter machines in a grocery store selling kid’s jewelry. You ain’t gonna get upset over something that small, not when it sounds like this man’s life actually depends on it.

You hold the ring out. His whole face lights up in relief. “Thank you.”

He presses his hands to his chest. His whole body flares in purple light and he kind of grimaces, but it’s the Thanos snap that dissolves the ring to dust what really grabs your attention.

“Holy shit,” you say.

“Yes, it’s quite a sight.” He pants a couple of moments, dry swallows a couple more times, and then sighs as his whole frame relaxes. “H’oh, that hit the spot. I can feel it work. The magic is a lullaby that sings the demon inside to sleep.”

And if that ain’t the most concerning phrase. He must see the “what the fuck” on your face, because he lifts his hands (oh look, he’s gesturing again), and continues. “Not literally. I’m only saying, it has worked. And I am indebted to you, most gracious lady. You can count on me for any aid that you require.”

You…did do it because he makes the potion that keeps your soul from flying off into space. But you also did it because he’s part of the group and you don’t like seeing people hungry or hurting.

“It’s all good,” you say. “How, um, how often d’you need one of them?”

“I was able to wait about a tenday between, back home. I had a steady supply of such artifacts in my tower at Waterdeep, mind you, and I wasn’t gallivanting about the countryside with a worm in my head while fighting packs of goblins. I nearly pushed it too far, this time, and it hasn’t even been that. I suspect I may be down to a hand of days, maybe a few more.”

So about five days, give or take. Swell. Peachy.

Fuck.

“Right,” you say. “I guess we’ll have to keep an eye out, huh?”

The look he gives you is so warm and relieved you have to look away. “I am sorry for asking this of you, but I truly, truly appreciate your help. You do your people credit, Eleanor, to have raised such rare kindness in a person.”

And that’s hitting too close to home.

You nod again, mumble something about heading in for the night. He sweeps down into a both-arms-out bow and leaves you with a defined pep in his step.

He passes Astarion on his way back up, who gives the wizard a single, arched eyebrow.

When the vampire man reaches you, he says, “I’ve known people hungry for power, but Gale takes a bit too literally for my liking. At least I only take blood.”

So he heard. You wonder just how sharp them pointed ears actually are.

Gale needed that ring. You know that, logically. But still, you look to your bare pinkie finger and the cold disappointment sinks into you.

“At least he only wanted that trinket,” Astarion says. “Can you imagine if we’d had to give him something more valuable? Gods, what happens when he needs another one? I’m not donating.”

You try to smile. But too much has happened today, and your own masking game ain’t up to par at the moment. Astarion gives you a sort of pitying look.

“Don’t tell me you actually thought that bauble was useful?” he says.

“Not really. Just, you know. First actually gold thing I ever wore.” And that makes you feel even more pathetic, so time to change the subject and make a joke! “So that means the next one we find, I call dibs, got it?”

He lifts his hands in surrender. Eyes you a second. “Lower class family, was it? Grew up with a single pair of shoes between you and your siblings, and one good dress to visit whichever temple your family liked?”

You huff. “I had three skirts, thank you very much.”

“Oooh, someone’s family was moving up in the world.”

Normally, you’d be down for this sort of game. Teasing is fun when the other person plays into it. But this topic…it’s a little more difficult. And you’d really like nothing more than to crawl into your tent, lay down on your face, and pass out until morning.

You try to smile.

“I’m heading in for the night,” you say. Pause and look him over. He’s a touch paler than he has been the last couple days. A light smear of purple smudged under his eyes. “Have you, y’know, fed on anybody else? Since me, I mean?”

“Haven’t had the chance, darling. Are you offering?” A glint in his eye. You don’t miss his gaze moving down your neck.

“Not tonight, sorry. You took more than my usual donations, I think, and I ain’t really sure how healing spells work when it comes to replacing red blood cells.” At his stare, you veer off into explaining that part of biology, as best you can remember. Then, “But I think in a week, I should be okay. If, y’know, that’ll still help you out.”

He’s on full smarm when he says, “How could I turn down such a delectable offer? Though I’ll be sure to take less next time.”

There’s a slight question at the end of that sentence.

“And I’ll be ready with a potion and some actual bandages,” you say. Last damn thing you need is the whole crew finding your half-bled carcass drooling in the dirt again.

Astarion literally twirls one of his curls around his finger. He’s got such Blanche Devereaux energy.

“Well,” he drawls. “Do let me know when you feel up to it.”

You nod. Lift a hand. “Night.”

“Good night, darling. Do sleep well. I’ll be waiting in my own tent, whiling away the time until I can taste you again.”

Jesus lord.

You consider flipping him off. Decide you don’t wanna take the time to explain that gesture and get into a verbal sparring match over the potential innuendo. Settle for a, “You do that.”

Never has a bedroll been so comfortable.

Which is why you shouldn’t be so surprised when, halfway through a dream involving you and Deadpool (except you were Deadpool?) robbing a steam engine while fighting ninjas armed with a gatling gun, the dream shifts and your soul slams back into your body.

The sudden physicality of it jolts you. Dreams don’t have feeling, but suddenly the air is cool and smells vaguely like…burnt metal? Carbonized steak? You lie flat on your back, staring up at an old screensaver of spinning, LSD purple clouds. And there’s somebody talking nearby. And that voice is vaguely familiar.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[unsettledink]

Posturing - Kinktober 2024 Day 2: A/B/O

Fandom: Body of Lies

Pairing: Hani/Roger

Word Count: 1157

Summary: Roger's weakness, always, is Hani.

(Talk about a throwback here, apparently I wrote this in 2016 and then never did anything with it. Good times.)

Read on AO3

It goes like this:

They – Omegas - tilt their head to the side, chin a little raised. Eyes on the floor, or your feet, or if they're pushy, on your collarbone, but always lowered. They expose that dangerously vulnerable spot, that sensitive little gland that needs nothing more than a bit of attention from an alpha to make them weak with need, saying as clear as words, 'I give in'. It's an apology, or an answer, or simply acknowledging their place; that is, lower than alphas. Lesser.

Omegas do it easily, all the time.

Roger's always tried not to take advantage of it. He's been … gifted with the ability to slide around on the spectrum a bit, passing for a beta or even, on rare occasions with a little chemical help, a damaged, medicated omega. It's useful for infiltration and gaining the trust of certain types, but it's exposed him to a level of attention that an alpha would never have to deal with. It's left him with too much empathy to be comfortable just taking the submission offered by that pose.

That doesn't mean he hasn't ever, but he's tried.

As with everything else, Hani takes that posturing and uses it as a weapon. By now, Roger can tell exactly how little Hani thinks of some alpha just by how far Hani's gaze drops, how high he tilts his chin. They don't see it, the mockery in the way he extends the line of his neck, tenses the muscles into something approximating fear, something incredibly tempting, something that makes even the most well controlled of alphas lose a few seconds wanting. Something that makes the less well controlled alphas give in to that want and attempt to take advantage.

Attempt.

Roger sees it. It doesn't stop him from wanting, though.

It should be a weakness, the exposure of that soft, tender spot, primed for need. A touch there is often enough to make an omega lose track of their thoughts; the weaker ones can go glazed just from being scented, just from the breath of air against their skin, but they all lose control when bitten, become mindless with desire when you set teeth to them. He's seen delicate ones pass out from an overenthusiastic bite, something common enough to be a joke, a term used equally in affection and mockery.

It should be a weakness, but if Hani has any such things, Roger has yet to find them.

Hani doesn't mock him with it, at least. "Roger, my dear." he'll say, standing a little too close, and when Roger turns, Hani poses, his eyes still meeting Roger's. It's not submission, then; it's a taunt, a tease. Come on, then , it whispers, come take me like the alpha you are. More than that, really, because it's Roger's fucking weakness. The moment Hani displays himself like that, it's Roger that loses his mind like some idiot knothead, Roger that can think of nothing else but the need to bury his face in the curve of Hani's neck and breathe in the thick, heavy, salt resinous scent of him, the mindless desire to bite down and claim Hani as his crashing into him like a wave. Most of the time he manages to grain enough control to stop, to simply rest with his mouth touching Hani's skin, panting, and then, then Hani is no help at all. He'll chuckle, raise his hand and clench it in Roger's hair, pulling him in tighter until Roger moans and gives in. Gives in and bites, bites that delicious spot hard enough that any other omega would be whining, begging to be fucked, and Hani–

Hani just –

Hani just sighs, contentedly, and presses closer, holds Roger against him as Roger shivers with want. Says, soft and amused, “lovely, dear”, or “good”, or very, very rarely, “yes”, before he disengages, leaves Roger swaying, unable to think at all as Hani straightens whatever damage Roger might have done to his ever pristine appearance.

He never attempts to cover the red livid mark of the bite, though, displaying it with an arrogance that is as distracting as any pose for most of the alphas he encounters. Roger finds his eyes drawn to it all day, keeping his temper sizzling until evening comes and he's ushered along to Hani's home.

Once, twice, and now, this third time, Hani has played him differently, his pose perfect, classic submission, even his eyes lowered to the ground, rich brown almost hidden by the sweep of his lashes. He is softer, almost pliant when Roger presses forward, letting his control slip away enough for him to be flushed, faintly glazed when Roger pulls away from his neck, enough to allow himself to be led to a suitable spot where Roger can keep marking him without interruption. He's even actually submissive, almost, but Roger isn't stupid enough to take it at face value.

Roger knows better, knows Hani better. He's aware, in the moment, between the flashes of bright, blinding desire, that Hani is taking any real alpha dominance from him with the same high handed entitlement he takes everything else, using Roger for what Hani wants as easily as breathing. It may look, may feel as though he is taking Hani, is using him and fucking him and marking him, spreading his come over the marks on Hani's neck and watching Hani's pupils shrink to next to nothing, but the truth is so much simpler; Hani is letting him take this. Hani is letting him have this.

And he knows now what comes after, what is waiting for him once he's … shown off for Hani, displayed his ability to dominate. Once he's taken every last bit that Hani allows, once Roger's scent is spread across Hani's skin, almost obliterating the tempting, heady scent of an unbonded omega, at least temporarily marking Hani as taken, once that fierce, sharp swell of possession screaming mine, mine, mine, has lodged itself firmly in Roger's chest.

What comes then, when Roger starts to feel a little self satisfied with himself, is Hani.

Hani will hum, will sniff almost delicately as he scents them, catching the claim laid onto his skin, and loosen the iron grip he keeps on himself. He'll lean up into Roger, rubs his cheek against Roger's, glands brushing, the sticky semen smeared across his sliding onto Roger's as well, there for anyone to smell, to know exactly what's happened. And they know, Roger knows people know, what with the startled, second glances they give him, the faint sneer he gets from traditionalists.

Mine, it says, stamped with Hani's scent, as good as any signature or seal or brand. Mine, streaked across Roger's neck like he's the omega, to be marked so. Mine, and it's the snarl underlying Hani's claim that leaves Roger weak needed and wanting.

Mine, it says, saturated with Hani's scent, as though Roger is the omega to be claimed.