#but eventually hawks gets a real addiction

[potahun]

it’s important for my heart that endeavor would learn to cook after the war, something about creating something nourishing for someone, making something that sustains others, something that makes people feel warm and safe and stronger, also about how cooking takes patience sometimes and care, and attention, and creativity, in a delicate way he’s never dabbled in before and how at first everything feels too “small” for his big hand that used to hurt others… but in time it just feels right and seeing people gobble down his food awakens a small flame of pride in his body that he thought he should keep flameless forever

[xjulixred45x]

Arthur Pedragon/King of Chaos/Lancelot X Yui Komori! Reader

Genre: Headcannons

Reader: Female

WARNINGS: SENSITIVE SUBJECTS, IMPLICIT KIDNAPPING/PAST ABUSE, PTSD, Arthur alone is a warning, Lancelot is a bit bad with emotions and a bit OOC(hard for me to write his character), Fluff at the end.

Arthur Pedragon/King of Chaos

A bit of context as always:

You were the daughter of one of Arthur's knights, he had just joined his ranks in the hope of recovering you from the clutches of the beings that held you captive.

He didn't think much of it at first, actually, he honestly thought you were already dead (especially if the beings that kidnapped you were vampires or demons), but he was very supportive of your father's cause, he was a good knight, and his fervent anger was ... something very useful in fights, so he encouraged it.

Imagine his surprise when he found out that you were alive, even more so when he met you, an adorable young lady. How could someone who barely has magic power survive so long alone against members of other races? Your father kept you close to him long after He rescued you, so you gave him some curiosity.

At first he thought that the innocent appearance would be a clever facade, but he was even more surprised when he met you formally and saw that you were indeed someone very friendly and gentle, even after all you had been through.

Your magical power allowed those who will take your blood to increase their abilities, apart from the fact that it became addictive, that was what caused your kidnapping. Ironically, since it didn't fit your character at all, it was the first thing that came to Arthur's mind.

Since your father always told you good things about the king, you showed him a lot of respect and kindness, but not out of fear, but out of the pure desire to help, you aroused his interest thanks to that.

You practically settled into Camelot, fearing to return to the real world, which helped you both get to know each other more, you would follow your father like a lost puppy (so cute) until he had to leave and you would just do things to help out. the fortress where you stayed, cleaning, taking care of the vegetation, reading, cooking, etc. It's endearing.

When you'll eventually run out of things to do, you'll go to him to ask if there was anything he needed or wanted, sometimes he'd jokingly tell you that he wanted his enemies' hearts and seeing your perplexed expression, you're too cute for your own good.

He would have talks with you where more things about you would just emerge, your so innocent point of view of the world and how you see the good in everything, a part of him doesn't know if you are very good or very dumb, but at the same time you are too nice to let the opportunity pass.

Going full-on when you're together, Arthur watches you like a hawk, he doesn't miss a beat when it comes to you. Do you feel slightly uncomfortable around a specific gentleman? It will be removed immediately. A certain noble made an off-hand comment about your situation? You won't see him again, and so on.

He loves your personality, he hasn't had someone genuinely care for him in a long time (if you read the manga you know what I'm talking about) so having a cutie like you care for him like he's a normal person is really beautiful.

It's a double edged sword though

Since he's worried that you'll trust too much people you shouldn't, so he tries to teach you how to more easily identify those kinds of people or he scares them to death himself, whichever comes first.

I mentioned the food above, most likely the Knights love you because of it, you are like an angel(who cooks amazingly) Even IRONSIDE enjoy your desserts!

You no longer help as much as before in the matter of taking care of the palace, not because you don't want to but rather because they don't let you anymore😅 as Wife of the King you are no longer allowed to do "Service work", although Arthur allows you to make food for he and his highly trusted knights (as I said above, they love it).

He pampers you a lot, you already saw.

He just can't help it. He loves your reactions! The surprise, how you smile shyly when you accept them, you're going to kill him one day.

Now, getting more serious.

If the ones who hurt you are alive...they won't be for long, let's go from there.

Just the thought of you being hurt so badly, that you didn't even want to go back to your original realm, out of sheer fear, makes Arthur seethe with rage.

Of course, always willing to comfort you and give you whatever you need at that moment (except maybe alone time because 1, this man is clingy, and 2, he doesn't feel comfortable leaving you alone in such a vulnerable state).

If the ones who kidnapped you were humans, he'll send his knights to kill them without much thought, he wants their heads on spears, that's all that matters.

(And neither are the knights, they appreciate you so much that they are as out for blood as Arthur).

If they were of any other race, only valid in a certain way his extremist point, it may even contaminate you with it (if you did not have it before). In this particular case, he wants to be the one to kill them, in the slowest and most painful way possible.

He will always make sure to keep you safe, there are knights near you even if you don't see them to ensure your safety and that nothing bad happens to you. By itself Arthur orbits around you constantly, so the chances are minimal.

I already mentioned it in a previous scenario, but he tries to cover up the shady parts of the Eternal Kindom's plan to prevent you from developing fear towards him, that would definitely destroy him.

Luckily that doesn't look like it's going to happen any time soon :D

In the meantime, you only enjoy the good times and memories that you create with your family and your dear husband.

Lancelot

A bit of context as always:

He met you shortly before the events of the 4KotA story, in one of the many massacre battles in which he participated.

He thought that as usual there was no one left, but he quickly realized that it was not yes. He originally thought of just shooting an arrow at where you were (RIP you) but sensing that the presence was rather extremely weak, he decided to see if it was really worth it.

He wasn't exactly surprised when he saw you, all hurt and scared, the fight was pretty brutal. What DID surprise him a bit was that you will ask him if they left. On sheer impulse he said yes and was even more confused when you thanked him.

*insert surprised Pikachu face*

He could easily tell that you were sincere, but even so you left him half out of the loop, he didn't know what to do with you anymore. Should he risk that you divulge information about him?

He considers it for a moment but seeing that you had no bad intentions he simply told you threatened not to say anything about who ended up with your group. You just nodded and he started to leave, what WAS NOT EXPECTED was that you'll start following him.

Again, this left him confused, he saw your heart, you had no intention of killing him or anything, in fact you had a lot of gratitude for some reason, and now you were following him around like a lost puppy. He considered just knocking you out and leaving, but at the same time this made him very curious as to how it would end, so he thought he'd see how far this would go, maybe he'd find out why you're doing it.

Thus began a strange friendship. At first just because you were still in a certain state of shock, you didn't talk much, ironically Lancelot did a good part of the talking, it wasn't much but it was enough to know some basic things, like your name, your age, etc. Yes, he could have used mind reading for that, but he doesn't want to use it for something so basic.

Of course, when he asked you about the group you were with and you got tense, he took a little look, just to avoid bad moments. You weren't with the group by choice, but because you had been "sold" (after being kidnapped) due to your magical power, which was in your healing blood.

Lowkey was satisfied that they would not return.

And lowkey scared him a little bit he almost shot you with an arrow

Knowing this, Lancelot didn't ask any more questions about them and simply asked about more general things, like your family or things like that (if they weren't idiots of course).

The more time you spend together and the more you open up, he becomes more…relaxed around you, so to speak.

He still has some of his stoic demeanor, but brings out a calmer side and more "Sin" so to speak.

Yep, he has shown his Fox form, many times in fact. Especially if you were feeling especially bad about what happened with that group. See, he's not very good with emotions (at first) so he brings out Sin's form so you can pamper him and you can better bring out your emotions.

He honestly thinks you couldn't open up to him at first because of how intimidating he is (the fact that you saw him taking down assholes in a way has something to do with it).

Though you eventually realize this and prevent this from happening, that you want comfort from Lancelot, not Sin.

Again, he's a bit clumsy at first, but gets better with time (especially with physical affection, that's his greatest strength).

If the group you were with wasn't the one that originally sold you out or kidnapped you, he'll ask you directly if you want him to kill them, obviously you didn't want that, and while Lancelot seemed to accept it, he specified that you won't wait long if he ever ran into them, no one lives to count a confrontation against him after all.

Your personality definitely intrigues him. How can someone who lived through such cruel things still be so gentle and friendly? It's out of his understanding.

Yet he finds himself being more open with you, telling you things about himself to be fair and generally being more vulnerable.

If we go straight to when they are together, honestly it doesn't change too much, it's just a little more of everything, more open, more physical, more protective, etc.

Again, your personality is a double-edged sword here, but at least Lancelot is more direct and will tell you what it is, that you have to be careful and a little more suspicious, even if it's for your own good.

Don't get it wrong though, he definitely likes to see how friendly you are, you have a great personality, if there were more people like you, humanity wouldn't be so lost.

He's fine with your willingness to help as long as you don't put yourself in danger, otherwise he'll be the first to jump into the situation and stop you (like the "what an idiot--wait-THAT'S MY IDIOT!" meme).

Cook 👏 together 👏 I won't say more.

Again, his greatest love language is physical contact, he has gotten better at saying he loves you, but it is much more practical for him to be physical than verbal. Although he's more willing to be if you're having a PTSD crisis, he understands that physical contact there can be for worse than anything else, so he encourages you from afar so you can recover safely.

For the events of the manga, they're traveling together with Percy and his friends, it's nice for Lancelot to see the progress you've made (and him, in a way) and you finally allow yourself to surround yourself with people again.

Lowkey, he wants you to meet Jericho, Ban and Elaine, he's pretty sure their parents are going to love you right away. As for Jericho... he must first keep his promise before anything else (and he still has mixed feelings with her being a traitor).

This new adventure looks promising, even more so when the two of them are together. What does the future prepare? Only time will tell.

[huntien]

! * , (hugh dancy, thirty-eight, cis-male, he/him) ! * , hey, did you see SEVERUS CROSS unloading their boxes from the moving truck? i heard they are 38 years old and work as a GAME WARDEN. they totally remind me of BLACKBEAK by YOUNGBLOOD HAWKE, A STORMY AFTERNOON and WORN-OUT BOOTS. they’ll probably hang out at STERLING HARDWARE the most if you were looking for them.

STATS:

NAME:  severus riley cross

NICKNAMES:  sev

BIRTHDAY:  november 15th (scorpio) , 38 years old

OCCUPATION:  wilma's very own game warden

ORIENTATION:  biromantic demisexual

LENGTH OF TIME IN WILMA: 10 years

BACKGROUND SUMMARIZATION:

brief summarization which i'll eventually update as i fine tune. please note i'm open to establishing dynamics or connections with others if they have also existed within wilma for a while.

both of his parents were lost in an accident when he was younger. was a child of the foster system and had gone through a slue of homes (mostly negative experiences for the most part or instances of him being unable to fit/get along with said foster parents). ended up being taken in and raised until he was nineteen by an older lady named meredith (though, he does call her mom).

same person was the one who taught him a lot of his joys for his present hobbies & occupation (nature , farm animal caretaking and the like, for the most part. fishing was a shared passion for them but hunting came later in his life) however severus had an initial career path that he ended up deviating from due to experiences (priorly wanted to get into law enforcement but has grown to now develop a really "yeah no thanks" mindset towards all that due to said experiences)

worked as a farmhand for a long while until he had opportunities presented to him. moved to wilma when he was 28, has always been kind of lowkey/kept to himself. in my head severus has his own land with a bunch of farm animals + in nature. it's his happy place.

MISC INFO:

TW mention of alcohol addiction

severus is kind of ... an asshole? to say the least. very direct and the type to not sugarcoat his words. however he won't be unreasonable or outright unbearable to be around but he has a very strong personality. it's vey evident in the way he carries himself. extremely arrogant and prideful too. (kick down his walls and deep down he's real gooey tho)

introverted heavily. likes to think he is extroverted but social battery who? in that same vein he isn't much of a social gathering kind of person (coughcough drag him out)

borderline-alcoholic-as-in "i'm not an alcoholic" but he has a drinking problem he's not quite aware of yet nor is wanting to admit too.

also a notable chain smoker. stress relief or something. (will also stress eat. big appetite.)

likes hunting, fishing, foraging. he has a bunch of goats too. he's a BIG animal rights advocate and can be argued if he prefers animals to humans at points (somewhat. don't look into it too deeply.)

fond of the rain or storms as a whole. the type to sit on his porch during rainstorms and have a beer.

your go-to person if you have some sort of household thing that needs fixing. very much good with things in that department.

will likely add more with time.

last updated: 11/2/24

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I am fully addicted to your fics and go feral whenever a new one is posted. Because of your writing I’ve firmly become a Shiggy/Hawks shipper. Headcannons for Shigadabihawks.

☾,∇, ൠ, ✿

Buddy, I'm so glad you like my work, but I feel immeasurable guilt over turning you into a shigahawks shipper when I never make content for them anymore 😔

☾ - sleep headcanon

As a group: Hawks is on one side with his wings wrapped around the other two, Dabi is in the middle, usually holding onto Hawks, Shigaraki is on the other side holding onto Dabi until he's sure that they're both asleep and then he gets up to do something else unless it's a rare night he's not suffering from insomnia.

Dabi: Has nightmares a lot, and is always tired, can fall asleep anywhere and even standing up if he feels safe enough

Hawks: Sleepy boy, when he has a day off he is washing his sheets, fluffing his pillows, and making sure his softest blanket is fresh from the dryer so that he can indulge in the Peak sleep experience

Shigaraki: What the fuck is sleep? No real reason, no nightmares even after remembering his past, he just doesn't sleep very much.

✿ - Sex headcanon

As a group: Dabi and Shigaraki like to work Hawks over together best, there's just a lot more they both can be doing with the addition of his wings, and Hawks will never admit it, but he loves being a pillow princess for them.

Dabi: Lost his virginity last of the three of them (the skin falling off and coma were contributing factors). Down for whatever, but does generally prefers AMAB anatomy because he has an oral fixation and loves getting his throat fucked (straps are fine but it's not as good)

Hawks: Thinks he has a low sex drive, but it's really mostly his baggage. He's been a sex symbol in Japan since he was 19 and he's been working as a spy doing honeytraps for a lot longer. He's so unimpressed with sex he's almost uninterested until he finds people that he actually clicks with and genuinely wants.

Shigaraki: Sex is a game and he is winning. Lol no, but he does engage with sex/kink as a form of entertainment. It's something fun to do that feels good, and it's one of the only times he gets to touch someone and they actually want that which helps settle something in his brain.

∇ - old age/aging headcanon

As a group: Hawks an Shigaraki mock Dabi for being an old man, Hawks calls Shigaraki whippersnapper, they are the same as they've always been, but their joints ache now and it looks like Hawks is going to have white hair too soon.

Dabi: did not think he was gonna make it this far and for a long time he's got even more self-destructive tendencies. Takes him deciding that he wants to stick around to see his nieces and nephews grow up before he decides to be a more mature adult. (If he's no longer a villain, he starts a program that can help teach quirk regulation to people like him who have unstable ones.)

Hawks: Also assumed he would die young. Retires from being a hero and focuses on making himself a little life of his own. Has a bakery he goes to for pastries, becomes the old man who feeds the birds, leaves his wings at home when he does those things so he can just be Keigo and not 'retired number two hero: Hawks'

Shigaraki: As he gets older he tries to find kids like him who need someone to take them in. Makes a home for them like AFO did for him (ideally without the ulterior motives). Just eventually the anger and the disgust fade and he is more interested in making sure no kids get abandoned because they're hard to deal with.

ൠ - random headcanon

As a group: One of the best days they've ever had together was the three of them just spending time together on a nice afternoon. They were just a tangle on the couch, Hawks napping, Dabi reading, and Shig playing one of his games. It was incredibly chill and lowkey and none of them will admit it, but for that afternoon they all wished they weren't heroes/villains because if they weren't then this could have just been their life together.

Dabi: Hates that he's always so hot because fluffy sweaters and stuff look so comfy, but he literally can't wear them without overheating.

Hawks: Every time he sees a birdfeeder he wonders. He's not a bird. But. But what would that taste like to him? This haunts him.

Shigaraki: He is the most ride or die person you will ever meet. Once he has imprinted on a person then he is going to make sure they're taken care of and happy. (This is a threat (: )

[hanzi83]

Probably Not The Final Draft

I didn’t even know if I wanted to write this but I can never escape this shit, and it just shows how addicted I am to the discourse as life just passes me by and hoping eventually I am no longer here. The more I wake up to the world being orchestrated to destruct and we continue to sports entertain ourselves into a more fascist world, I don’t know if people know they are brainwashed, or if they are willingly being brainwashed, but this notion of stuff being done transparently on the surface is not supposed to be obvious so there is pushback from people online or alt media that is just as much establishment like rhetoric, especially the aesthetic. People will counter the far right wing shit to some extent, but I still feel the biggest mistake people on the left do is not get conspiratorial about shit to weaponize against the right, because even if a few items on the right wing list turn out to be true, that is all they need to dominate and the only thing I see is constant needs for debate and then it ends up some prominent “left” figures will start easing their way into the right wing mindset, they will common ground that always leads with the person having to be fair to people who don’t ever want to play fair. We insist on having this aesthetic that matches the past when the game is 100 times more advanced. More and more all I am seeing is more people just further themselves into becoming characters for comedic banter nonstop, the sports entertainment personalities take precedent over the systemic issue, even when the systemic issue becomes the focus, it then reduces to shitty debates between other sports entertainers who know it will just be talking in circles with people who are willing to organize a movement where it looks like they are the ones fighting back against the oppressive system, even though they want to normalize their own shitty version. It works out perfect when the right wing trajectory system, much like wrestling bookers, have their world champions out there and purposefully fucking up and we still have to look at it with “America’s dumbest criminal” aesthetic. Sorry, I realize I am not credible enough to give my thoughts on politics through a wrestling lens, but these people have made it so fucking obvious. It is funny because the political crowd, some of them will scoff at wrestling being talked about, but they actually partake and enjoy sports entertainment shit despite looking down at people who watch wrestling. So if the world is supposed to implode, it means that nothing will get done that will really change from a president or prime minister’s “decisions” and then the watered down MSM will limit narratives and not push back when it is a democrat in office but there is pushback, because the shit that is online is just as much the MSM as the MSM is, you notice until the discredited MSM starts hawking points that someone like a Jimmy Dore says then all of a sudden, the shitty MSM is now telling the truth. Ultimately the right wing trajectory system will have their true face of what they have wanted. Again, everything I am saying are just my theories and I don’t have the back up sources for what I am spewing from the top of my head. I know I am not considered the smartest, plus my aesthetic is shit and as shit as my aesthetic is, I still somehow can see where the future is going more so than other political commentators. The MSM will tell overall truths, but that to me are just self preservation truths so in the history books, they can say people warned of what is to come, but in current times, we have lived through so much fucking lies from the US Empire, that no one takes their word on anything seriously unless you happen to be a “whistleblower” that post left and right wing people will amplify. People really think that calling the MSM shit in this current day has any real stock when it has gone to the next level. Suddenly the “independent” media could never have dark money funding it or anything. It used to be so easy to follow the news a bit more because I knew MSM would not tell us everything and then I could refer to supposed independent people who were explaining the propaganda, while then covering up for other government’s propaganda, and then each side gets defensive if you don’t buy their side 100 percent. I don’t know I have seen way too much shit play out where something is bullshit, someone did something problematic etc, and it feels like the intent is not to root for anyone. It doesn’t feel like there is hope. People want to be indoctrinated into the far right, and your hope is that there will be people on the left who can counter, but it turns out people will find a way to start generalizing everyone on the left about coming off as off putting, when the system by design has been there to fuck with people, it has been right wing policies and they are not only getting away with it, but they are winning the culture wars online and dominating and all I ever hear from other “progressive” gate keepers is to be civil and win with ideas, but when shit heads limit what the narratives are, how the fuck are you gonna beat these people when we can’t even expand the narratives. We have to pretend that shit that leaks out online is somehow something the system never wants us to know. It is like how the modern wrestling discourse is, people really think they can only enjoy WWE if the narrative is that WWE didn’t plan for this person to get over. I don’t get this notion to dumb down how smart these people are. It doesn’t mean you have to kiss their ass, but it is perverse because there are permitted sports entertainer accounts that think by naming off stuff on the surface as the big own, when they are helping create the same propaganda with a newer face.

I know I have stated this shit before and I am probably remixing it but I don’t keep track of shit I say word for word all the fucking time and it just feels with more normalized propaganda happening where the right and the neoliberals are making it more difficult for regular people to function in this world, that how can anyone sleep at night thinking that advocating for abduction of trans children or taking away womens rights, trying to erase a racist history while still getting to kill more minorities with impunity and have a bunch of other boring uncharismatic shit heads justify it while filling your head with more trauma porn while people are cheering on the killers, how can anyone think advocating for that kind of side is the normal and just position while screaming how people on the left have gone too far when normally most of the time the examples of the “left” going too far is normally some sensationalist shit that everyone defines by it. We can’t even have an honest look at what society was in the past, and we generalize it in the current form thinking we are better when we are normalizing other racism and ignorance in the process. Like back in the 2000’s, in the midst of all the real edge lord shit, there was a lot of normalized racism and ignorance in general that was normalized with the entertainment consumed, and people don’t want to admit it, but our entertainment and the attitudes reflected upon it have helped brainwash us a little, but back then we didn’t think we were being ignorant or racist etc, because our definition for racism was over the top racism of people not wanting to hang out with other people who were different from them, but in the late 90’s and 2000’s, we hung out with all kinds of minority groups and we somehow thought we were better than the 50’s but we were really fucking ignorant and now in the 2010’s we have looked back and generalized people and things back then when the same system were the ones pushing that kind of shit to be normalized, and now we think in our current aesthetic that we are better than what was the past. We are not. We are always susceptible to propaganda, like when someone becomes a “truth teller” about one stand out racist incident like a Hulk Hogan etc, we think people are telling the truth and they will finally call out the entire system, but people get credit for that and then allow more normalized shit to go down but I can’t call that out because people called out an obvious problematic person one time. It is like how people think that pointing out the hypocrisy in shit really has value, listen these people on the right don’t give a shit if they are hypocrites, and it used to stand out in the 2010’s to point it out but now in our current world, like you think republicans who want child marriage legalized are gonna give a shit if you constantly do nonstop material on their hypocrisy, it is time to find another fucking tactic, because it is not gonna work. It is like whatever side of the fence you want to be on, you will justify being on that side. I am supposed to be hyped up for obvious sports entertainment with George Santos getting in all sorts of legal trouble and still being allowed to fucking be in office, don’t judge me for not knowing the political rules of what is promoted when literally no one in this fucking system is playing by it, but I guess Jamaal Bowman partaking in sports entertainment with Marjorie Taylor Green, which would be the equivalent of a backstage sports entertainment segment that seems over the top to start a feud, then afterwards they then cut their “pro wrestling” promos with MTG lying about being called a white supremacist and how she felt intimidated and she throws a bunch of racist dogwhistles, then Bowman gets to retort and I fuck with his message of what he said, but he is not operating by the same rules that other people from his community face, like if something were to happen to Bowman, it wouldn’t be some random act of occurrence, it would be more dangerous because it would be mafia permitted, but public figures have to make their situation relatable in the exact same way that other people will go through shit. But it becomes political sports entertainment, it becomes the obvious racist shit that we are gonna call out, while normalizing 50 other racist shit. We know MTG is a shitty hypocrite, there is a long list of her harassing people and doing more sports entertainment.

I didn’t want to make this a long blog but I don't know what I am trying to get across. Sometimes I just want to write and wherever I end up going, I end up going because I am trying to refrain from covering the CM Punk shit because I am so annoyed with the nonstop discourse around that, so that is why I am trying to keep it strictly about the overall view I have of where the system is going. If I had any fucking will power I would stop watching this art form though because it is getting a lot worse with the propped up discourse and the gas lighting but then we have to protect the image of someone who needs the discourse centered around them at the detriment of everyone else, even with his planned cancelation, because now people are focusing on his past comments from his 2005 RF Shoot interviews where him and Colt go over what they did to one woman they were training with, hurting her on purpose and justifying it because she didn’t want to learn, and none of the accounts who are literally calling out everyone who didn’t say everything about the Vince accusations, have said anything about this, and maybe Punk/Colt have changed hence why people let this slide, maybe it represents that in the mid 2000’s how much of an ignorant society we lived in where something that Punk/Colt did was not seen as a big deal because those were the attitudes, hell I bet that you shoot interview is what made Vince/Triple H like Punk to any extent. Punk has always been an internet marketing tool, we view the internet as keeping it real but the reason it has so much cache is because it helped propped up entertainers make it to the next level, so Punk in my personal opinion, is in the position of now controlling his negative and positive narrative, so they clearly want this old story out there because maybe it will reflect on who he is now and he will turn heel in real life. When you start off on the internet, they know what your trajectory is gonna be. But maybe at his core he actually does give a shit about women and supports them genuinely, but now we are gonna correlate his past with whatever is revealed in the present since people plan their cancelations before it happens and that justifies why they will be seen as bad guys, but it makes sense because back in the day when people online knew which chicks he had sex with and was in relationships with, we all thought it was fucking cool, but once I realized the probabilities of people in the industry fucking everyone anyways because it is a mafia and open relationship kind of place where they use the relationships as relatable ones with regular people, so now that you think about it, he was such a marketing tool for the internet they had to promote online who he fucked so people would think he is cool. And this is the guy talking about everyone having parasocial relationships and how no one knows him or anyone, he finally does it when his fanbase and other people’s fan bases have run amok online, you literally have the conversation centering around you, you and others have probably given incentive to paid online accounts to take away from the product because they couldn’t wait 8 months until you come back when you are coming back, the entire “They pulled him from the press release” was part of the marketing and he might not show up right away but he will eventually show up again. But people will get on their high horse about “Well CM Punk is simply more entertaining than the product” No you shit heads made the product a lot more shitty with the focus on this fucking guy who will end up coming back anyways, and even if he goes somewhere else, it is still gonna be an online work to me. They sacrificed programming to facilitate this stupid worked shoot shit and people associated have helped dumb shit down so people who are probably paid by the company or Punk online are people who then come up with the solutions that didn’t need to be there because proper booking could’ve fucking happened. And people who are outraged by Punk’s past comments, are you mad about them because you genuinely give a shit about “Bikini girl” or is someone’s trauma being put out there so you can fucking facilitate a feud between CM Punk vs Bryan fucking Alvarez. Sorry it is completely and utter shit, then we have to hear from Brian fucking Last because now we made Cornette a cliche old head character who needs to be involved. The media circus online when shit like this happens, it can’t just be a simple news day, it has to be conflicting reports from different people and people online then get mad, the wrestlers themselves prod the fanbase and then other members of the fanbase are given incentive to help destroy someone’s mentality. But people who suddenly care now about this past interview, you people have overlooked Vince’s bullshit, and the other countless of systemic abuse in these industries and you don’t want to hear about them unless it fits in with your entertainment, and I am no fucking better. If I had any dignity, I would stop watching any of this entertainment shit. But I just hate how people pretend there is a not an overall industry problem and there is never any nuance to the conversation. Nothing will truly change, I didn’t even want to cover it because it is pointless but then I give in and talk about it, but it is like I am just ready for them to get this work out of the way. I really want to hold off on watching the new show or wrestling altogether. I don’t give a shit that Ace Steel is hired or not hired, can’t wait for CM Punk’s cheerleaders turn on Ace once he and Punk fall out and people use the same material they have been using at Colt. But the discourse gets out of control. And the funny part is, because the political shit is making its way into the industries and institutions, you are gonna see some of these political commentators at some point seep into the world of wrestling, the political discourse is all sports entertainment anyway. No one wants to admit it though, they will admit but in a limited way but I can literally break down the system watching wrestling, it is what helps me see how I perceive the world to operate. I am not saying I am right, but it would’ve been easier to boycott the entertainment maybe back then because now it is impossible.

There are people who need me to keep watching despite them suppressing me and keeping under their thumb and people getting comfortable disrespecting me, but it is so much investment for me to be invested into this shit for some reason hence why there are people who are incentivized to wow me to make me feel a little better but it never goes anywhere, and I have been put through the ringer from these people who are in the entertainment and political world for far too long. And the fucked up part of it is I have been through so much spiritual wars that it doesn’t count within “reality” and I still have to deal with people being given incentive in my life to annoy me because that is how industry people get at me since they can’t physically attack me, they can’t attack me on the surface personally when I am online because that would mean admitting that they give a fuck what I say when I am not supposed to be relevant, in fact I have seen messages from people who have admitted when people say shit they don’t like they can organize their engagement to be suppressed and I find it funny that so much effort is done to push me out of the way but then still insist they need me around but unless I have cosigns from other people who want to do Howard Stern like bullshit, because the name of the game is always gonna be chaos in the cogs’ lives nonstop. There is literally nothing that makes me happy on this earth. I wish I could go back in time and change my need to be entertained and be entrenched with the entertainment world because I think it has rotted my brain. And now I am stuck in this world I don’t want to be in with constant sports entertainment that is gonna fuck with our lives. It is not fun being here on this planet and I feel like the longer I am alive, I will have to give into this shit to cross over to the right leaning side and I don’t want to do that, because it feels like everyone is susceptible to it and eventually everyone throws on an NWO shirt, and I don’t want to. I don’t have hope for this world. I feel I wasted so much time, there is nothing for me to look forward to because everything will constantly get fucking worse, and it is amazing because it has gotten bad and you think it can’t get any worse, but they surprise me even more. I am sure I will come back with another blog that is a better draft than the previous one etc because I am writing this really late/early and I am all over the map. Again not one of my best ones, I don’t have all the answers, I can admit that but I feel the ones who do, could organize better shit to go down to prevent the horrible shit from happening. I feel useless on this planet. Why am I needed here? This is just me thinking out loud, I am not trying to say I am gonna kill myself. Which is hilarious people will tell me not to do that but then they will proceed to be the reasons why I would want go down that path in my fucked up head (By the way I left my computer alone for a bit to get something to eat, I come back down, and the place where it says “they will proceed to be the reasons why” the trolls added in all caps “WHY I WANT TO KILL” and I swear I didn’t write that down, but this is more ways to show they can access my shit and do what they want, because it will scare me but I know they are gonna eventually come for me, and the only vindication I will have will take place after I am gone from this planet, but even me leaving my laptop alone for a bit, they will show their true colors. Like me, writing a blog is threatening to you people, like it isn’t good enough, you have used people to isolate me from seeing people for the last decade, you have sent nonstop cogs to come and disrupt my process and make me feel more suicidal, they have suppressed me for so fucking long, but me writing a shitty half ass blog for the sake of it, that no one will talk about, that is so bothersome to you people, you would literally put in caps “I WANT TO KILL” I am trying to seriously think if I wa half asleep and I just wrote in caps because I left it on, but I am pretty sure I didn’t. It doesn’t matter, it just makes me look worse and not the people who would do that kind of shit, and now it is making me not want to write anymore for the time being.

[m6bjo4fu0]

Awake?

When the bnha boys are asleep

- an alternative to Asleep? -

Contains: hawks, dabi, aizawa, kiri, x gn!reader

Warnings: soft boys soft boys, “doll”

❀ Masterlist ❀

Hawks is a busy man, flying all around the city fighting injustices all day. He had done more than some veteran heroes do, earning him the title of “the man that’s too fast.” However, the things he had seen do scar and traumatize him sometimes, resulting in his consistent nightmares. Which is why he cherishes every night that did not have nightmares.

You know about your boyfriend’s nightmares, so a smile reached your face when you saw him sleeping with a rare relaxed expression. With his vermilion wings spread, the only empty space on the king-sized bed was in his arms. Although you planned to crawl in without disturbing him, his keen senses already stirred him awake at the sound of your soft footsteps.

“Yer finally home birdy, I missed you at Wednesday Wingsday.”

“M sorry Keigo, there was an attack at the metro when I was coming back. Had to stop several trains and it was a mess.”

You sighed as you changed into your pajamas, careful to not touch the new bandages.

“We can always order delivery, you still wanna do Wingsday? I still have the coupon for KFC wings.”

“…nah. Come’ere let me hold my love.”

You shined another smile at him, joining him in the bed. Hawks always gave you a special feel. Maybe it’s the way he held your head impossibly close to his chest, maybe it’s the sweet smell you inhale as you cuddled into his embrace, or maybe it’s his chicken addiction. You didn’t know, but loving him the way he does to you was all you needed as the city continued rushing on this fine Wednesday night.

Dabi lived a miserable life, but ever since you joined, things had been going better for him. For example, he gets to sleep comfortably in the safety of your apartment. Some nights, like this rainy one, you would find Dabi peacefully sleeping on your couch with your shirt on a pillow. The couch isn’t necessarily comfortable, but he missed you while you were at work so the faint scent of you companied him and eventually lured him to sleep.

A smile crept up your face at the scene, eyes taking in the sight. With soft footsteps, you reached the side of the couch and caressed Dabi’s cheeks. He stirred awake at the tender fingers across his scars, making his eyes slowly open.

“Hey sleepyhead.”

His heart fluttered at your gentle grin as he returned the expression. Dabi reached his hands for yours, heart fluttering when your fingers curled around his. Everyday he prayed that you’re real, that you’re not some fairytale daydream of his, and the firm grip on his hand always told him that you’re here.

“C’mere doll.”

He lazily opened his arms for you to climb in and you gladly joined. With an arm around your torso, Dabi buried his face into your neck. Your scent filled his senses, he felt his eyes slowly lidding again as he smiled into your skin. A soft “I love you” was the last thing he heard before he drifted off in your embrace.

“Aizawa? You in here?”

You called into the teacher’s lounge, hoping to find your sleep deprived colleague in here to talk about class plans.

“Actually, Shota’s napping right now. See that yellow worm in that corner? That’s him.”

Present Mic pointed to a yellow sleeping bag with gentle snores coming out of it, making you smile.

“I’m gonna go grab lunch with Nemuri, feel free to join if you’d like!”

Mic said before closing the door, leaving you and Aizawa in the room alone. You walked to his corner before sitting down next to him. He seemed to wake up, mumbling something about “not now Hizashi” as he turned around to face the wall.

“Aizawa?”

He blanked, not responding until he realized it’s you.

“Y/n? I thought you’re eating lunch with Hizashi and Nemuri today.”

Aizawa sat up slowly and turned to face you at an equal height.

“Well you asked me to discuss next week’s teaching plans, and you’re… yea.”

He huffed at the thought of work before he had an idea.

“I think I have a better thing to discuss now. You wanna join me in here?”

You were tutoring Kirishima for the next test, but you realized halfway you forgot to bring your notebook.

“I’ll wait, you can go get it!”

That was what he said, but you’re now facing him asleep cuddling his shark plushie. You put the study materials from his bed back on his desk before turning off the lights in his room. While you were debating whether to join him or wake him up, he murmured into his plushie “Y/nnn” while kissing it softly. Your heart raced at this, he must be dreaming about me. With that, you gently opened his blanket to crawl into his warmth. Kirishima’s eyes opened slowly when the bed dipped, surprised to find you so close to him.

“Kiri is Mr. Manly better to cuddle than I am?”

He blushed at the mention of his plushie, placing it behind him as he opened his arms for you.

“You wanna cuddle so I can compare?”

His voice, although stitched with sleep, had the same sweet tone you fell for. You smiled before climbing into his embrace and rest your head on his chest. Kirishima soon returned to dreamland, only with you joining him this time.

Author’s notes: I originally had Mirio too but I scratched that idea for now

❀ tip me - ask box ❀

5.15.22

Join my taglist

@loving-katsuki @ren-simp

[hanazuma-inactive]

Hello! Could you please do a Tendo x male reader smut where Valentine’s Day is coming up and the reader buys lingerie to be his gift and to surprise him and they do it then when Tendo is changing for practice the team sees all of the scratch and bite marks on his back?

sweet like chocolate (nsfw) tendou x top!reader

pronouns: he/him

warnings: scratch marks and stuff, top reader, lingerie play (?), overstimulation, tendou begging

a/n: look at tendou hes so cute, also to the 🥴 anon if you see this i will start the hawks fic soon i promise.

_____

dating tendou was never boring. the red haired boy would always find some way to make you smile. whether it was telling you a joke, something funny ushijima did, or making a funny face to cheer you up. being with him made you happy, as an usually low energy person, having someone who is energetic with you all the time was a good contrast to your personality.

at first you didn't feel the need to have sex with tendou, you felt content just being in a loving relationship with him. however after he brought up the idea of it and you guys tried it out, you were practically addicted. your sex drive escalated tremendously and you wanted to do it with tendou almost every single day. the way he moaned your name when you fucked him, and the way his face filled with pleasure when he reached his orgasm drove you crazy. 

valentines day was coming up and as the loving couple you guys are, both of you prepared gift for each other. however, the gifts are not necessarily considered to be on the same level. on the actual day of valentines, tendou prepared you some home-made heart shaped chocolates and you gave him a bouquet of roses in return. 

"wowwww! thank you! y/n-kun." tendou said while hugging the roses. 

you cupped tendou's face and leaned up to his ears to whisper something. 

"there's another surprise for today, for later tonight." 

tendou jolted a little and his face turned as red as his hair. he laughed it off and went back to his seat, but you could tell he was extremely flustered. throughout the rest of the day, during lunch and class time, tendou was stuttering and stammering, thinking about what exactly you had planned for 'later tonight'.

you headed home with tendou after enjoying a romantic dinner you planned at his favorite restaurant. the walk was filled with a lot of tendou snuggling his head into your neck and you kissing him back on the head. if shirabu saw this he would definitely tell you to go get a room with a look of disgust on his face except he's probably just jealous. 

after you got home, you went in the shower first so you can prepare for later when tendou's in the shower. you got the gift you hid from tendou and waited for him without nothing on except your boxers. 

"y/n-kunnnn~ i'm done with the shower AHH~" 

tendou was very startled by the sight and he immediately started blushing. 

"what's wrong? you don't like it?" you said with a smile while chuckling. 

"n-no of course i like it i'm just surprised, was this the surprise you were talking about?" tendou said nervously.

"oh no baby boy~ we have way more than this in-store for tonight." you said as you grabbed the red box you prepared and gestured tendou to open it. your boyfriend opened and box and screamed a little, he saw the item inside the box and slowly took it out. The gift was a light red lingerie, a clothing that was meant for woman but you thought tendou would look incredible in it. 

“so, do you like it?” 

“well uh…i definitely wasn’t expecting this." 

"why don't you try it out? you would look amazing in it." 

tendou then proceeded to remove his pajamas and put on the little gift you bought him. it fit his slender but built body perfectly, his cock exposed enough to tease you and the same with his ass. you could see his pink nipples already start to stiff up. 

"h-how do i look?" 

you could feel your cock getting hard looking at the meal in front of you. just thinking about fucking your boyfriend in that sexy outfit was enough to make you cum. now that the opportunity finally presented itself to you, you were more than ready to take it. you gestured tendou to your arms and whispered into his ears. 

"i'm gonna fuck you so hard tonight you lose your fucking mind." 

all the near tendou's neck stood up as he leaned his head into your shoulders from embarrassment. without delay you started to loosen tendou up with some spit from your mouth. you knew where tendou's good spot is so you got him moaning in seconds. with his crotch leaned against yours you could feel his tip starting to leak more and more.

"h-hah y/n, i'm gonna cum if you keep teasing that spot!" tendou whimpered out. 

"uh-uh, you can't cum yet baby boy~ we can't have you reaching your climax when we're just getting ready for the real deal now can we?" 

as much as tendou wanted to listen to you he couldn't. you constantly teasing his prostate made him cum almost instantly after. 

"i-i'm sorry y/n, i couldn't hold it in��" 

"aww what a shame, bad boys will get punished y'know?" you said as you grabbed tendou's cock with your fingers still in his ass. 

"wait y-y/n i just came you can't a-ah!" 

you stroked his still hard cock rapidly while aggressively rubbing his prostate. not much longer you made tendou come for a second time. 

tendou laid on the bed, exhausted from two orgasms in a row. 

"get up baby~ cause we're not fucking done yet." you said as you revealed your throbbing hard cock under your boxers. 

you grabbed tendou into your arms gently as he gave you a kiss. 

"p-please y/n, i don't care anymore…just fuck me, use me, make me yours, i beg you." 

"that's a good boy, satori." 

you thrusted into tendou's ass and found his sweet spot instantly. you didn't start off slow but instead just fucked him sloppy. slapping sounds so loud the neighbours could hear. all your precum and the spit from earlier mixing inside tendou's ass made entering and going back incredibly smooth.

tendou was scratching and clinging onto your back as you were doing the same with his. you felt him cum a few times while fucking him but you lost count. you've probably also came once or twice but you were so lost in the pleasure you didn't care either. eventually, both of you passed out in each other's embrace after countless orgasms. 

of course because of this both of you were late to school the next day and got scolded by the teachers. your classmates had suspicions as to why you guys were late because the timing was just when you guys arrived was just too close. the team had practice after-school and although neither of you had enough energy to actually train you guys still went so it wasn't as suspicious. while changing your team members realized the marks on you and tendou's backs. after a while, even ushijima got the clue of what happened. tendou was a little bit embarrassed but you just had a smirk on your face the entire time and bragged about how amazing of a boyfriend you have. 

[artoni-arts]

melody in static; chapter 9

previous . index . next

what u should know;

@tiesthatbind-tf verse, quintesson-era [late 1920s actually I did a timeline we’re in 1930 pretty much]

cw; Outside perspective of drug addiction. Discussion of drug-related anxiety.

---------

Pravda was used to people changing on her; it was one of the reasons she held her thoughts so close to her chest, to better protect her heart before it could be hurt. Unlike Victor, who seemed to trust on a whim, which at first had been almost endearing but now was a cause for alarm. For ever since she'd first met Soner, her heart had been nervous, some inner gut feeling warning her of danger. And perhaps that feeling had been overprotective at times - indeed, it had been the same with Victor at first - but it had only grown as they had traveled, and as Soner and Victor had developed a friendship.

Perhaps, she privately acknowledged, there could be some jealousy involved, or some other paranoia; Soner was a stranger, vouched for only by strangers in turn who were, admittedly, on the same side. But further examination of her thoughts and feelings, when compared with the sudden shifts in Victor's behavior...while part of her hoped that this was merely a sign of his fluttering thoughts, so close to reuniting with his wife, the rest of her quietly determined that as soon as they had found Scarlett?

They would get out of here, get them all to safety, and then leave Soner for good. If he was to blame, even in part, they would soon find out. If he wasn't, and this was the real Victor that simply hadn't revealed itself before...he was too great an ally to simply ignore, but she would watch her step around him nonetheless.

For now, she studied him in the dark as he peered through to the pen she had discovered. And while her mind also considered the thought of using the Beastmen as a distraction, she also considered the increase of lines in Victor's face, the sunken skin about his eyes...he'd changed over the journey, she realized, and she didn't recall nearly as dramatic a change in the first leg. No, this had only happened after they left Titanomachia's Meteora, which led credence to the thought that somehow, Soner was involved. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the thought, and she couldn't help but glance towards two dim pinpricks of red that studied them both. 

The pinpricks were getting closer as Soner pushed his way through the various pieces of structure here within the wallspace. Eventually, he arrived next to Victor, trying to peek over the man's shoulder to see what had caught the other two's attention. Pravda watched him for a few long moments before turning her attention to the motion past; one of the Beastmen, one who seemed to have the traits of some sort of hawk or eagle, was moving towards them. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see the two men starting to draw back, and in a moment, made a decision.

"Amical," she whispered, eyes on the Beastman. They stiffened, clearly having heard her voice, but the quizzical expression suggested a lack of understanding - so, she tried again. "Дружелюбный. Friendly."

It was the last that sparked a reaction, though not just from them. Victor was trying to shush her, but before he could offer much, the Beastman spoke. "Hal 'ant huna-" they, he trailed off, looking about almost helplessly.

It was then that Soner stepped in, holding a short conversation before looking back towards Pravda and Victor. "Well," he began with that incessant cheer of his, even if he was thankfully speaking more softly than normal, "we have made contact. Shall I ask of Scarlett?" he added, that directed straight at Victor. The man nodded quickly, and Pravda was at least relieved to be reminded that hadn't changed; he was still clearly intent on his goal.

If a bit...intensely so at times, she amended, thinking back to him snapping at her. She had never seen him like that; he hardly ever raised his voice, and to be so angry over a 'poor choice' of words...was it more than just the words, she wondered? But there Soner was talking again, and startling a bit at the response. Another few words and the Beastman nodded, moving away and leaving Soner to briefly rub the bridge of his nose.

"It seems we are in luck - for that name is indeed familiar to our new friend. But," he continued, raising a hand to forestall Victor's apparent instinct to jump in, "they are closely monitored within there, and it would not do to reveal ourselves so quickly, yes? Our friend is attempting to determine if a distraction can be made, but perhaps yours..."

He cast a look towards Pravda, and Victor followed it before his eyes (metaphorically) lit up in realization. "Primus!" 

Pravda couldn't help but flinch at the name, expression immediately darkening. Victor knew they weren't to mention-! He'd agreed, and now Soner - whose own eyes glinted in the darkness - had the name as well. She scowled as Victor didn't even seem to notice his misstep, instead continuing to speak, suggesting they create some sort of connection- which Pravda wasn't even sure was possible, but after a moment, she let out a frustrated puff of air. "I will ask," she conceded, turning about to pull out her own tablet and send a message.

The one she received in response, however, had her stare at it for a long moment.

Yes - if you connect this tablet to a terminal, I should be able to reboot their systems. I've attached an image to help you. 

Go back for the others after everything gets started. - PRIMUS

That was...not quite what she had expected. The image was welcome and helpful, yes, but the final comment stuck in her mind - had Primus thought she would simply leave them? Either way, she let out the breath she had been holding, looking towards the men. "Our friend," she emphasized, bitterly satisfied to see a flash of realization finally come over Victor's face, "can assist. We will need to find one of these." She turned the tablet around, showing its image to the other two. They studied it before Soner snapped his fingers.

"I saw one through the other vent- I shall do this, yes?" He reached for it, but Pravda pulled back the tablet protectively.

Victor noticed, and sighed in annoyance. "Pravda, don't make this-"

"I will do it," she interrupted, giving him a similar look as she had to her brothers when they were acting foolish. It would leave Victor alone with Soner, a choice she wasn't particularly fond of (especially as it felt she had already left them to themselves far, far too much), but considering it didn't seem to be that far…

Soner pulled back his hand, tilting it from side to side in a gesture. "If you say so! We shall await the signal, yes?" he added, grinning at Victor.

For his part, Victor gave Pravda a look of his own, and for a moment, Pravda thought she saw the old him - the him that had been willing to put his life on the line for children, and for a person he'd never met as well. The moment didn't pass so much as shift, and a determination filled his eyes as he nodded. "Signal if you need help," he said, touching the satchel which held his own tablet, and Pravda only nodded before moving to accomplish her mission.

The thing was, she was relatively certain she wasn't the one in need of help.

—---------------------------

The tablets, proving their worth once more, were useful for coordinating the distraction - for Soner had convinced Victor to wait until the Beastmen gave their own signal before passing it to Pravda. Less than a minute later, the soft vrrrr of the surrounding systems trailed off into nothing, what few lights visible growing dim as well. 

Impatient, Victor immediately drew his hand against the vent. Again, there was that subtle resistance, but it was less this time; as before, only a minor adjustment was needed before Rhisling's glow was illuminating both the wallspace and the mini-world beyond. Soner jumped through before he could, but Victor was quick to follow, trusting that Pravda could simply break through the vent if it wouldn't budge for her.

In the near distance, he could hear yowling, snarling - a fight, perhaps? He hoped that was their own distraction, but for now- "Did they say they'd meet us?" he whispered to Soner, still mindful that Quintessons could enter at any time and it was best they had no reason to focus on anything but their systems - or the scuffle in progress.

"Give him time," Soner murmured, fidgeting with his hands. But before he could say more, there was another soft hiss, a new voice;

"Over here!"

The accent was thick, but the voice was strong and sure. Both men looked towards the sound as the nearby greenery rustled, and there was only a brief moment of hesitation before moving into the copse. It at least provided some measure of privacy, though even in the dark, the strangeness of the Beastman was apparent.

There seemed to be three - four? - of them here, but Victor's gaze was drawn to the largest. Standing upon four legs, they resembled a horse, except- there was a man's body atop of it, much like the centaurs of legends. But that wasn't all of it, for tucked against their back and flank was another mass, one Victor couldn't quite make out in the dark. Nonetheless, the positions and postures of the others seemed to defer to this one, and he squared his shoulders as Soner began to speak in that fluid tongue.

One of the forms - Victor assumed they were the bird-man from before, the shape was similar enough - answered, but the dim glow of the centaur's blue eyes moved away from Soner and to Victor himself. After a few more moments, he interrupted.

"That's enough, Haytham." 

A different voice, a different accent - but a surprisingly pleasant texture accompanied the words, a smooth bass that seemed to reach to one's core. Haytham - if that was indeed the bird-man's name - only protested a moment before another voice, feminine, snorted in derision.

"Better the rest of us can understand, too." Wide red eyes regarded their fellow. "Besides, your English isn't that bad, you've been practicing with Scarlett."

Immediately, Victor's chest went light. "She's here, then?" he pressed, looking around. "She's- she's with you?" 

"Why do you seek her?" The centaur spoke once more, his voice immediately taking command of the conversation. "You are strangers to us. And you only seek one of our number?" There was a surge of anger for this thing standing in his way- but this time, Victor forced himself to fight against it, to take another breath. Keenly aware of Soner watching him, he kept his voice as even as he could as he said, "She's my wife - we were separated years ago. I was told she was in this facility, and I've come to get her out."

It was so easy to say - and yet, Victor felt as though he was missing something. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on- but surely it wasn't important, if it wasn't in mind, was it? He came here for Scarlett, and now, looking from Beastman to Beastman…

Their leader was impossible to read in the shadows, but there was some movement from the other two. They seemed to be looking towards one another in surprise, their body language more like animals than humans'; the woman's large, pointed ears flattened against her skull, and the other's feathers seemed to flare up in alarm.

"Wife?" he repeated, just as their surroundings abruptly shifted from near-black to bright as day. Only the fact that they were shaded by trees kept it from becoming an unbearable change; as it was, the Beastmen all flinched as they immediately reached to shield their eyes, and even Victor raised a hand to shade his own - but for another reason. If the power was back on...

Pravda.

But she was nowhere in sight, and the vent that they'd first seen through - it was still intact. He furrowed his brow in concern, looking at Soner, but the man was wide-eyed gazing at the Beastmen. And as Victor followed that gaze, he quickly found out why.

The centaur was, in fact, the most beautiful human he had ever seen in his life - man or woman. With broad shoulders and a well-toned frame, he could have stepped straight out of a myth with his even bronze skin and striking blue eyes. His hair was tucked within a headwrap, but even what few strands had fallen free seemed almost as if they were intended to be loose wisps to perfectly frame his bearded face. Below that, a chest that was smoothly muscled, with only a bit of hair in the front leading down to where his hips would have been - and from there was an effortless transition in to the body of a horse that would have itself been a thing of beauty, itself balanced between a heavy draft's build and that of an elegant sporting breed -

-and the wings. The wings. Shades of red and gold melded with each other like colors of a sunset, an almost hypnotizing gradient that was, for the moment, tucked on either side of the flank. Victor couldn't tell how they connected from this angle- did they come from the man's back, by his shoulders? Or were they attached to the lower half, could they allow him to actually fly? Belatedly, he realized he was staring, and he tore his gaze away in embarrassment to sight the other two.

The woman was - mostly - human, her pointed ears and furry tail the most change Victor could see, unless her loose clothing - all of them wore a crude style, Victor noted, as if they were only given lengths of cloth and it was up to them to fashion it into coverings - hid more. The other man, in sharp contrast, had a clearly defined beak as well as feathers that had fluffed up all the more. Though the wings on his arms seemed too small to fly - in comparison to Mina's, at least, and even the centaur's - there were more than enough to enlarge his small frame, and combined with the way he was staring wide-eyed in to the distance, it was enough to cause Victor no small amount of alarm.

The others noticed it, too, their eyes on him as he clacked his beak in upset. "They come," he said, only briefly looking at Victor and Soner before his gaze went to the centaur. "Extempaxia with guards-" 

And before he could say more, there was a sharp, high-pitched tone that rang through the area; once again, the Beastmen winced, the woman emitting a soft whine as she reached to cover her ears. The centaur pawed at the ground, looking from his kin before his attention turned to Soner and Victor.

"Stay here. They're summoning us for a count - do not leave this place," he warned before a wing extended to help usher the other two out of the copse. Victor bit back an impulse to ask about Scarlett, Soner reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder and offer a reassuring smile.

"Do not fret. Once the Quintessons are satisfied, we can see your Scarlett, yes?" 

Victor gave him a look, then shrugged off his hand with a tight, unhappy expression. There'd been so many delays already, but- 

"She has waited this long," Pravda had said. And she was right. Why had he snapped at her? Unconsciously wetting his lips with his tongue, he pushed the feelings of regret aside, instead taking a moment to seat himself in the brush with a heavy exhale of breath. Soner watched him curiously, then sat beside him a moment later.

"Tell me your thoughts," he suggested. "You seem troubled- I would offer you a drink, but I think it best you stay sober, yes?"

Even the offer had something in Victor surge with want; he grimaced again, shaking his head as he combed his fingers through his hair. "I don't- I don't know what I'm thinking," he admitted after a moment. "I want to see her so badly, but - if she's here, then for all I know she's one of them," he nodded towards where the Beastmen had gone off to, "and that isn't a bad thing, only I don't know if-"

"-if she's still human." Soner nodded in understanding, but Victor made an irritated sound in response because it wasn't that.

"Of course she's still human!- nothing the Quintessons could do to her would change that, I don't care what she looks like now. But it's not just that, I don't- I can't put it into words," he admitted, closing his eyes and curling his fingers just slightly in a frustrated gesture. "There's something- something else, I feel like we're walking on eggshells and something's about to give-!"

For a long few moments, Soner was silent. Then, he made a thoughtful sound, leaning enough to bump shoulders. "My friend," he declared, "I think you worry too much. You should be happy! The end of your journey is in sight, and before long you will-"

Whatever he had intended to say was cut off by the sound of rustling. Victor stiffened, his mind for a moment flashing back to another time such sound had heralded the ambush of a turbofox, and he reflexively began to get to his feet only for Soner to haul him back down with a 'ssh!' A moment later, Victor heard something that made his blood run even colder.

The electrical hum of armor. How had it snuck up on him, he should have noticed it sooner-! But he'd been talking, and now he could see them, the great hulking frame of a guard-caste Quintesson approaching from the far side of the copse. He flattened himself down further into the brush, glancing wide-eyed at Soner, who was looking back at him with a worried expression. Victor couldn't blame him, for if it had heard them speaking to one another, surely it wouldn't leave until it had discovered the source of the noise...

And then it spotted them, red eyes locking on to the shapes of the two men. Tentacles writhed as it emitted a low warble, a clear command - one Victor vaguely realized as a get up, but he was frozen on the ground like a mouse sighted by a hawk. Soner gripped him tightly, and Victor almost, almost reached for Rhisling as the Quintesson moved forwards-

Shnk!

It froze, abruptly, body going rigid as something dropped on it from above  - and the men stared wide-eyed as it abruptly topped over, as that something (someone) was straightening up atop of it. This one was armored as well, but unmistakably humanoid - another beastman? But their tail was long and segmented, and was pulling out of the Quintesson's body as its owner emitted a low hiss of suppressed anger.

"Don't you dare," she spat down at it, her English clear, without accent, and unmistakably familiar. Victor's red eyes immediately blazed in recognition as he pushed himself up,  mouth dry as the Beastman's dimming blues met his own. For a moment, there was a tense silence - then the figure took a step back.

"No, please-!" He raised a hand, desperation filling him as the figure outright fled, and in the distance he could hear other sounds, other shrieks, not unlike the 'distraction' from before but these ones were mixed with Quintesson cries and shouts-

-but as Victor scrambled free of Soner's grip, none of that was on his mind. There was only one thing that mattered as he clambered to his feet, reaching out for that retreating form.

"Scarlett!"

[llamagoddessofficial]

Original Siren = Harpy? The Harpy Boys. Migrating bird boys that stay near the water, mountains, caves, and cliffs. Near impossible to see at night. Sirens of the skies. Bird Nests. Preening. Addicted to the shiny. If you are ever in trouble, throw a mirror, keys, coins and run the opposite way.

HARPEY,,, harpie...... winged beasts whose feet are instead claws with huge talons....... direct from wikipedia; ‘When a person suddenly disappeared from the Earth, it was said that he had been carried off by the harpies’. They 100% would kidnap a pretty human they wanted to keep....

here’s some headcanons because. i have a mighty need

Sans:

His feathers are like those of an asian fairy-bluebird. Where they are close to his shoulders they’re a stunning deep electric blue, and the rest (the majority) are black.

He obsesses over/collects ‘pretty things’; this isn’t just shiny stuff and could be anything that piques his interest. Books, electronic devices, cool looking stones... and in this case, his new favourite pretty thing is Mc.

He definitely likes to ‘preen’ her; playing with her hair, touching her skin, etc, even if at first she would pull away in fright. Physical bonding activities she has no idea are incredibly romantic to harpies.

After he kidnaps her, all the pretty things he collects are things she finds pretty.

He met Mc first, as per usual. Instead of immediately carrying her off and eating her he decided to follow her home at a distance- her home had a balcony with a lovely glass door that she often forgot to lock because of how high up it was. He would use that to pay her nightly visits... she only started to clue on that she wasn’t alone in the house at night when she woke up early one morning to find a single, huge, jet black feather on the floor by her bedside.

He kidnapped her eventually, swooped in and grabbed her by the upper arms kinda like this (of course, he was careful not to stab her with those gigantic talons of his, harpies are incredibly precise)

Red:

His feathers are like the crimson sunbird. Red at the top, and fleckling down into brown, very faintly following the lines of the middle feathers. He’s very proud of his plumage, he feels like it makes him look cool and dangerous

The first harpy she warmed up to after Sans kidnapped her. Red’s always the amicable one who can ease tension and assure her she’s not here to be a snack.

... He’s a nester. He’ll grab Mc but instead of eating her, or picking her up and flying away, he’ll just pull her into his nest of pillows and blankets in a flurry of feathers and effectively kidnap her until he gets too lovey-dovey and tired to catch her during her escape attempts.

Unlike Sans, Red’s attentions couldn’t more obviously have underlying intentions. He chuckles and nips her ear while running his phalanges through her hair until she squeaks and jumps back. But... the ‘preening’ he’s doing with her? It isn’t real preening. It’s a show, a joke.

... Red doesn’t ever really do that kind of thing. Proper preening, genuine preening... it’s all too vulnerable, it’s too domestic. It’s a promise of love. You only do that to family, or... your ‘one and only’.

That’s a little too close to home for him.

He’d only properly preen her when he’s tired, or very very emotional and it’s just the two of them in one of his many nests. Tucked up close to her, and he can’t help but softly start to play with her hair.

Skull:

Wings are pretty much black hawk eagle to a T.

Usually keeps his wings tucked close to his body, as he has a very ugly scar running down the back of one wing that left him missing a few feathers. He’s self conscious

Also the issue of there being few things more terrifying than a Skull-sized harpy extending its wings to full length.

However... when he’s cuddling Mc, he can’t help but wrap those huge wings around her to pretty much entirely hide her from view. It’s just instinct. He wants to keep her closest to him, and out of sight of anyone unwanted.

His feet talons are about the length of her lower arm, so he’s always conscious of being especially gentle around her.

Likes to preen her too, but to a much more intense degree than the others. It started with gently brushing through her hair when he had a moment but it grew into pulling her into his lap to properly brush and detangle every strand

When he’s at his happiest (Mc pressed up against him and probably keeping her wrapped up in one wing) he makes little, almost inaudible warbly cooing sounds.

[kinsurou]

I hope you guys don't mind I combined these two requests 👉👈

64.I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole.

37. Could he make you feel as good as I do?

Warnings: Cheating, Rough sex, Kinda dubcon-ish?, Hints of child abuse. 

It’s all for the sake of the mission...All for the sake of the mission.

That’s the inner chant going inside your head as the male above groans repeatedly, keeping a slow yet deep pace as he continues ramming himself inside you. His knees are bent over one of your own legs. Simultaneously, the other one rests over his shoulder just as he keeps moving deep inside your amid such a brutal pace that rattles the old mattress laid on the floor. 

Teary, hurting eyes wander all around the dirty, trashed room in an attempt to distract your thoughts as he buries himself deeper inside. The floor is covered in an array of discarded clothes, both yours and Dabi’s to be precise. There’s not even a proper bed, but a single old mattress covered by a single blanket clutched in a death grip from every thrust against your aching cunt.

Whimpering softly, more tears run down your stained cheeks when a hand grips your face firmly, turning it back towards the man above. Dabi drops your leg from his shoulder before leaning down to kiss you, and he can’t help groaning when you kiss him back weakly.

“C’mon, doll. You can do better than that.” He buries his head in your shoulder, and his pace doesn’t change one bit “Think I haven’t seen you sucking face with the chicken? Stop acting all shy.”

He kisses you again and this time, slowly, very slowly you start kissing him back. Moaning into his mouth when he starts thrusting deeper, reaching a certain spot that makes your hands start wandering all over his back, caressing a certain spot where should he be someone else, there would be a pair of beautiful wings fluttering divinely.

He connects the dots in an instant, growling furiously before biting down on your lower lip, harshly enough to draw blood. Your soft cries of pain seem to arouse him when he pulls away and sees the pained look in those lost, glistening eyes.

“You’re thinking about him…dont you?” He gives a hard thrust that pulls out a loud gasp of pleasure. “Why are you thinking about that fucking chicken, when there’s a real man right in front of you. I bet he can’t even please you like this, does he?” 

As much as you want to ignore his words. Deep inside, you know he’s right...Growing up, you and Hawks were both part of the Commission's program, thus it was bound to happen when you began bonding over the harsh training you had to endure growing up.

That bonding eventually developed into romantic feelings for each other...or at least, that’s what you thought they were. Maybe the both of you were so alone all those years that it ended up misinterpreting that connection.

Even intimacy felt...foreign. Keigo was good, but something was always missing, whenever the two of you slept together. 

“Well? Answer me, sweetheart.” Dabi’s movements stopped, it was enough to snap you out of those hate-filled flashbacks, including the reason you’re undressed, underneath one of the league of villain’s most dangerous members.

“N-No…” The words burned like bile at the back of your throat and hurt just as hard as getting hit in the stomach by somebody three times your size. Weeping softly, you couldn’t help letting go of his back, to hide your face shamefully as more warm tears came out “He...he doesn’t.”

Those same hands were pulled away and pinned over your head, by a single one covered in burns and staples, exposing all of that pain to the villain, who’s face became stoic from your reaction.

“You’re one poor little thing, aren’t you? Can’t even be pleased by her own boyfriend.” He even has the nerve to give you a small pout, almost like he’s mocking everything representing you “But don’t you worry. I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole.”

The leg he was sitting above is pulled up in front of you along with the other one. Eventually, Dabi holds you into a mating press before guiding his hard member inside you for the second time. Once he finally bottoms out, he lets out a breathless gasp as he picks up a rougher pace than before.

You can’t even stop moaning, thoroughly overwhelmed by every shove of his cock deep inside you, it feels so wrong and at the same time, it’s impossible not to want more of such rough treatment that makes your head fall back against the sheets, completely exposing your throat to Dabi, who doesn’t waste any time before starting to leave patches of bruises and bites.

The sounds of his moans, combined with those lips suckling against the skin is absolutely addictive, you can’t even think about anything else but him. Lost into a sea of euphoria that lures you to wrap your previously stiff arms around his neck, pulling him closer, refusing to be separated from him in this delightsome moment.

“Harder...Please Dabi! Harder!” There’s no trace of reason left inside your mind, nothing matters to you anymore and he knows it, judging by that cruel laughter of his. 

“Tell me something...Could he make you feel as good as I do?” He doesn’t really need an answer, but he still wants to hear you say it.

“ah...ah!...n-no…!” Nothing but shame flows through your body at the idea of somebody hearing those words, but even if you wanted to deny it, every inch of your body said otherwise. 

“That’s what I thought...Now, stay put. I’m going to make you come so hard until you can’t breathe...” 

[keigos-dove]

Beauty Of A Broken Man

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent. This idea hit me while having a bit of a breakdown and I thought I’d get it on paper before I forget it. This is me projecting my feeling about Keigo onto the reader to tell Keigo. 

Paring: Keigo Takami (Hawks) x G/N!Reader

Word Count: 900

|Tags:| @leeswritingworld​

It was sunset in Osaka. The day was very quiet, which was unusual for such a busy town. No cars or people flooded the streets. The crime rate was at a minimum today, not that Keigo complained much. 

The scenery was beautiful, and he was thankful he could see it with you. The sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow across the city. A warm breeze blew through at the high altitude of the building you both were sitting atop of. 

Keigo had his shoes, headphones, and visor neglected to the side. Deciding to enjoy the comfort of the peaceful evening and you. 

You were sitting between Keigo’s legs. At the sideways angle you were sitting at your legs were thrown over one of his while you curled into his chest. While your head was laying on his shoulder, tucked into his neck, your arms were wrapped around his waist pulling him impossibly closer.

The two of you were talking away the evening. Talking about nothing, everything, and the world all at the same time. It’s so comforting and peaceful and happy. It’s a feeling neither of you wants to let go of, mostly because you don’t get many wonderful moments like this.

Eventually, you stopped talking. Opting to admire Keigo’s features instead of actually participating in the conversation. And eventually, Keigo noticed your silent admiration and decided to speak up.

“Something on your mind, Little Dove? You’ve been looking at me like that for a while now.” Keigo chuckles softly. The vibrations of his laughs going through his chest and being felt by you.

“I’m just thinking about you,” you say honestly. Picking your head up to look at Keigo better. You removed your hold on his waist and held his face in your hands. On instinct, Keigo leaned into your touch.

“What exactly about me?” he asks with a smile.

“Your beauty. You’re being,” you say vaguely.

“Wanna tell me?” he asks with a smirk.

“It’ll just boost your ego,” you giggle.

“Oh come on, Little Dove, spill it. I wanna hear all about what’s going in that mind of yours.”

“You sure?” you ask.

“I’m all ears and wings.” he jokes.

“Your eyes. One of my favorite things about you, honestly. They’re so soft and warm to look at. They remind me of freshly made caramel.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks. “Your soft skin makes me so happy to hold you. Your nose that constantly pokes at me whenever your cuddling into my neck is something I love as well. Your lips, god I love them so much,” you kiss him gently before continuing. “They’re so soft and gentle. So addicting. If it’s small pecks in the morning or our heavy kisses before bed they always keep their gentleness. Your cheeks that I love to give kisses to tease you are amazing. So beautiful when you have that handsome smile on your face.”

You take a deep breath before continuing. “Your little mustache that tickles me to death is annoying but looks so good on you. Your neck that I love to give kisses to and cuddle into is wonderful. Your body in general. You’re not too muscular but not too skinny either. It’s a perfect mix of the two that makes you look so good and makes you so comfortable to hug and hold. Your magnificent wings. They’re so soft and warm. I love running my hands through them and feeling them around me when we hug. I love them because they feel like a second protection, aside from you.”

“Real ego booster here, Little Dove,” Keigo smiles warmly.

“Shut up, Pretty Bird, I’m not done,” you quip back. 

You stare into his eyes and collect your thoughts. Without realizing it, you were running a hand through his hair.

“I love your hair. It’s so soft and fluffy. I love running my hands through it to relax you after a rough day.”

“Little Dove-”

“It’s not just your looks that I love. It’s your mind. Your intelligence and strength. You’ve been through so much and you still push forward. You’re so smart but you cover it up a lot of the time. I appreciate it either way. You’re so kind to everyone. You’re such a loving person. Children, teens, adults, hell even the elderly love you. You’re just that amazing. Your dedication towards everything impresses me. Your fighting is spectacular. Your cockiness is a pain sometimes but you use it as a strategy against everyone and I find that so wonderful.”

“Little Dove-”

“Then the little things you do, like your coos when you’re tired, the gifts and gestures just to impress me, how much love you carry in your heart. God, I could go on for hours, Keigo. You’re such an amazing person. You’re so talented and special. I love you so much, you have no idea.”

At this point, he was almost in tears. He never expected your thoughts to be that in-depth.

“Little Dove I love you so much,” he said softly, kissing you again.

“I love you so much more, Pretty Bird.”

The rest of that patrol was spent with little kisses, more confessions, and a few stray tears from Keigo.

Love was a powerful thing, he learned. You really can learn something new every day. 

And on that evening he learned just how much you loved him.

[oldreignofhades]

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Aylin Nadia Karga

Nickname(s): Lin, Karga, Hades

Age: twenty-eight

Date of Birth: April 13th 1993

Hometown: Antalya, Turkey

Current Location: depends on the mission, but mostly Cairo, Egypt

Nationality: Turkish

Gender: cis woman

Pronouns: she/her

Orientation: romantic and sexual biromantic/bisexual

Religion: atheist

Political Affiliation: none

Occupation: Oracle for Four Hundred

Living Arrangements: various apartments for example in Cairo, Sao Paolo, Madeira, Sylt, Paris, London

Language(s) Spoken: French, Turkish, German, English, Spanish, (Egyptian) Arabic

Accent: a mix of Egyptian Arabic and Turkish

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Hande Ercel

Hair Colour: Brunette

Eye Colour: Dark Brown

Height: 1,75 m

Weight: 64 kg

Build: fit

Clothing Style: Elegant, but at work mostly black, somewhat comfortable so it allows her to be as flexible as possible.

Usual Expression: stoic, maybe a slight smirk, in public more soft but still with an edge so people don’t talk to her but neither suspect or of anything (less intimidating)

HEALTH

Physical Ailments: various scars (gunshot wound in her leg, cuts and other wounds on her side and arm), two numb fingers on her left hand

Allergies: Lactose

Sleeping Habits: survives on however sleep she can get, but usually she sleeps around 6 hours, sleeps lightly, wakes up often

Eating Habits: eats healthy and tries to not eat a lot, tho she has a problem with eating junk food if she’s in another town but Cairo 

Exercise Habits: exercises a lot due to the job, remains fit, jogs almost every day

Emotional Stability: a solid 6, she’s been broken before, never again (at least she tries to think that way)

Sociability: introverted yet social. It’s a weird mix of both. Aylin won’t shy away from company, though she prefers to be alone.

Body Temperature: hot-natured

Addictions: the game

Drug Use: none

Alcohol Use: frequently

PERSONALITY

Label: the femme fatale

Positive Traits: adaptable, brave, passionate, decisive, tough

Negative Traits: aggressive, two-faced, hedonistic, dishonest, Machiavellian, cruel

Goals/Desires: continue her father’s legacy, protect her son

Fears: to lose her son, to lose her position and everything she has worked for

FAVORITES

Weather: sunny, not too hot, clear skies, slight breeze

Colour: green-blue, deep red, black

Music: classical music, Turkish rap, generally a bit of everything

Movies: at the moment she quite enjoys watching kids movies with her son. It’s a lovely alternative to the stuff she sees in real life.

Sport: hunting (I guess, not animals tho)

Beverage: Wine, chai, Glühwein, Coca Cola, orange juice

Food: Burger, Köfte, Döner kebab, apple pie

Animal: lions, hawks, snakes, dogs

FAMILY

Father: Orhan Karga, deceased, former army general & Oracle for four hundred before his death

Mother: Meryem Karga, 59 years old, former model and fashion designer

Sibling(s): Volkan Karga, 25 years old, younger brother -- student

Children: Serkan Karga, 4 years old, son (biological father open as a spot)

Pet(s): none

Family’s Financial Status: rather wealthy, her father made sure to keep his family financially independent even after his death

EXTRA

Zodiac Sign: Aries -  Like their fellow fire signs, Leo and Sagittarius, Aries is a passionate, motivated, and confident leader who builds community with their cheerful disposition and relentless determination. Uncomplicated and direct in their approach, they often get frustrated by exhaustive details and unnecessary nuances.

MBTI: ISTP -  ISTPs are attentive to details and responsive to the demands of the world around them. Because of their astute sense of their environment, they are good at moving quickly and responding to emergencies. ISTPs are reserved, but not withdrawn: the ISTP enjoys taking action, and approaches the world with a keen appreciation for the physical and sensory experiences it has to offer.

Enneagram: Type Eight - Protectors believe you must be strong and powerful to assure protection and regard in a tough world. Consequently, Protectors seek justice and are direct, strong and action-oriented; they also can be overly impactful, excessive and impulsive.

Temperament: Melancholic individuals tend to be analytical and detail-oriented, and they are deep thinkers and feelers. They are introverted and try to avoid being singled out in a crowd. A melancholic personality leads to self-reliant individuals who are thoughtful, reserved, and often anxious. They often strive for perfection within themselves and their surroundings, which leads to tidy and detail-oriented behavior.

Hogwarts House: Slytherin 

Moral Alignment: Neutral Evil

Primary Vice: Wrath

Primary Virtue: Charity

Element: fire

BIO (short, longer version will follow)

death tw, pregnancy tw

Once a loved child, Aylin grew up in a world filled with wonders. Always protected and surrounded by a great number of bodyguards, she could barely walk a meter without being watched. It didn’t take too long for her to accept her circumstances, especially considering her father’s absence most of the time. As oracle for four hundred he was tasked with getting rid of some of the world’s worst criminals which put a target on his daugher’s back. Unaware of the possible threat, Aylin attended some of the best schools and went on to see her father every now and then. His absence turned her almost bitter and resentful of him, which would change Aylin forever. The loving, laughter loving girl turned into a cold, spiteful monster with little regard for the emotion of others after her own hadn’t been acknowledged properly. Her father, noticing the sudden change in her, decided to train Aylin for a possibility to eventually take over his spot within four hundred. Their training sessions included light sparring, throwing daggers and cardio. Once started, once tasted, Aylin longed to keep on going as this felt like the right call at that time. Fed by her insatiable need for approval and spending time with her father, Aylin did everything in her power to train with him and be a good daughter. Years of training eventually manifested her choices and completely took over her life. Any possibilities to follow into her mother’s footsteps were discarded and only wrath remained. The world didn’t look all rosey after all, so she decided to help just like her father did. Yet fate propelled her into this position far too early. After her father’s murder by one of the world’s most influential forgers, Aylin took over her father’s position. 

Five years in Aylin got pregnant and took a short hiatus from Pantheon. Once Serkan was born her outlook on life changed since she had something to protect now, however the cruelty remained, as did her sudden mood swings. Shaped by a traumatic childhood and mostly neglectful parents she’s made it her mission to protect her son and continue her father’s legacy all while sating her own inner demons -- and to stop being her own worst saboteur and monster. 

[after-witch]

replies & inbox messages!

@kentucky-fried-hawks OMG ITS 5K THATS A DREAM THATS AHHHHHHH LITERALLY IVE NEVER BEEN MORE HYPED FOR A FANFIC LIKE IM LITERALLY SO EXCITED UR THE BEST OVERHAUL WRITER You need to write a real full length novel like ur writing style is really incredible i mean WOW

;asdf; ahh you are so nice!! too nice!! this comment made my week 

@saintdabi i’m embarrassingly excited for this

I hope you liked it! :)

Anonymous said:

In the town after she escaped. There was this beautiful wistfulness in your writing about things we take for granted until they are gone. UGGGGHH I LOVED IT! It made me so frustrated and sad and angry but in a good way!!! In my headcannon, the reader is able to escape again and this time successfully; living a happy a stable life as a big F U to Overhaul (2/2)

oh no if there was a part 1 to your comment, tumblr ate it. But ahh thank you! Forgetting little normal things and not even realizing that you missed them is something I liked about kidnapped yandere scenarios. What a nice headcanon!! 

Anonymous said: that overhaul fic I- 💀 he is so mean and that piece was so good, you really fed us well tonight 😭 I notice in all of your overhaul fics, he rarely if ever initiates intimate contact with darling. Do you think he ever gets to a point where he would be more open with hugging/kissing/whatever, or is he always pretty distant like that?

Ty!! He is the WORST, no consideration for your actual feelings. Just pushes and pushes to get you to break down and be more malleable. I think it takes a lot for him to initiate more substantial contact, it’s going to take a long time & his darling will have to be behaved and broken down. He’d take months to recover mentally if he went to kiss you and you tried to bite him. Eventually 

Anonymous said:

imagining overhaul roasting me for my social media addiction since I don’t have an eating disorder. washing my mouth out for quoting too many tiktoks around him 😭💀

Normally I would say Overhaul isn’t one to force any sort of BDSM-like activities into his darling’s life but you would make him very tempted to buy a gag, lol. He makes you look at your dwindling follower count from your inactive TikTok just to fuck with you.

kentucky-fried-hawks: THIS MADE MY WHOLE WEEK THANK YOU THIS IS WOW WOW

I’m so glad!!! :D

writerandstudent said: Loved the overhaul fic! Would have reblogged by Tumblr doesn't always let me reblog post so decided to say I really liked it. It was so creepy! I felt so bad for the darling (reader), and it had be like cringing away from Overhaul mentally! Love that you hit that creepy/scary aspect of Yandere! (love me soft yanderes, but let's be real it's a horror story at it's core lol) When he was lecturing the reader and the soap thing I was just like: no, no, no, no, ack. Again loved it!

thank you for this comment! I’m glad it was creepy/scary, I wanted to avoid it being too soft! The soap was horrible to write!! 

[crowgale]

Resident Evil 2 AU

Claire Redfield x Elza Walker

Generally the characters are the same, but with a kick of real so they aren't blank slates. Elza herself is a street-smart, confident young woman with a troubled past.

Born Elizibeth Walker in Anchorage, Alaska to parents separated before she was born, her father was an fortuitous yet endearing construction worker who took custody of her until he went missing during the construction of an Umbrella Research Facility in the Rockies during her early teens and was then sent to Connecticut to live with her mother, who was an abusive drug addict.

In her teens she developed a keen interest in motorcycles while overstudying in a library to avoid her mother and further strengthed it with part-time jobs in various mechanics. Eventually she lost hope in her father being found and her increasingly hostile mother drove her to runaway from home, using connections she developed through gangs and mechanics to move to Florida and join an amatuer racing contest in Daytona under the alias 'Elza' (Her father's nickname for her)... where she broke the track record 4 times (The first was the previous fastest lap time, she then broke her own fastest laps 3 times).

By her 18th birthday she had left her criminal ties behind and became a minor celebrity on the fast track to becoming a professional bike racer. She had sponsers ready to pay her into any university she wanted, emancipation from her mother and enough money saved up from work and victories to let her live as an independant young woman.

Elizabeth was gone. She was Elza now, and she had found her path to happiness.

~

By 1996 Claire had enrolled in the University of Houstan, Texas. Chris hoped she would enrol in Kansas City so she'd be closer to him but she wasn't going to be his little sister forever. She had grown up quick after their parents died... they both did.

Elza and Claire first met the week before classes started, Claire having just moved into the dorms a day before; Elza arriving like a perfect storm the next day on an customised kawasaki sports bike and a trailer full of her belongings.

Claire recognised her of course, her debut into the racing world made national headlines. So like a dork Claire was shy and tried to avoid Elza as she rode in on her Harley Davidson, after running an errand off campus.

Elza however, heard the sound of a Harley and wanted to know who owned it. She took one look at Claire in her red leather shorts, that 'Made in Heaven' jacket tied around her waist and that tight black bodysuit she had no business looking so sexy in, decided 'Yeah, I'm chilling with you!" and was having none of it.

There was, what a native of Northern Ireland like myself would call, a fresher's fair that night and like a hawk Elza seeked out the introverted Claire and started asking about her bike.

By the end of the night, Claire's shyness vanished upon realising that the seemingly untouchable queen of bikers, whose body was covered in tattoos and whose hair was as wild and untamed as the wind, was actually a massive dork. Elza however found someone who had quickly seen her and not the racing queen. The dealbreaker came when Elza asked what made her get a bike to begin with.

"Well... my brother owned a Suzuki before but... I guess I saw the film 'Akira' and that's what made me do it"

"Oh my god bitch me too!!!"

The two would then become firm friends. Elza being the misadventurous one who managed to talk Claire into actually leaving the library and give herself a break from studying; Claire being the one to get them out of trouble and keep Elza grounded. The two became a power-couple without realising, defending the other from rude people who mocked Elza for daring to be a woman racer or harassed Claire for her looks or for trying to latch onto a celebrity. It went without saying no one could harass these women if they wanted their hearing and face intact.

Things would eventually become more personal between the two. The week after New Years, Elza received news that her mother had died from a drug overdose. Although she didn't need to, Claire bought a side-car for her bike and rode her to New London for the funeral.

The service itself was tense. Elza being uncharacteristically silent and the lack of relatives worried Claire as the service ended. She never saw Elza's eyes look so cold as she gave her eulogy, which she soon realised was a stock eulogy the minister gave to those who didn't write one.

A while after she was buried in the a man approached Elza in the cemetary, introduced himself as her mother's dealer and decided that since she was a famous racer her mother's debt would pass on to Elza and that she would pay him else there would be cpnsequences; it goes without saying she refused to pay off the debt and apathetically asked him to leave.

Claire was on him like a wolf the moment he slapped her and was ready to kill him when he started to threaten her with a knife.

She very nearly did.

They left New London that evening amidst a police BOLO for a woman with auburn hair seen kicking the living shit out of a man in a graveyard. They made it to Kent Island before a blizzard rolled in and they had to say at an inn along the Chesepeake Bay.

That night Claire meant to apologise for her actions, stating she saw her get hit and just... reacted. But Elza pulled her into a tight hug and finally released her pent up emotions. She told Claire about her fathers disappearance, about the years of torment at her mothers hands, that this wasn't the first time something like this happened, that she doesn't understand why she's crying if she hated her mother so much and how much it hurt to remember all those terrrible things and have someone make her feel like that scared little girl again.

Claire, feeling her best friend shake in her arms, doesn't know what to say. She's silent for a time as Elza holds onto her like a lifeline, as if letting go would make her fall off the Earth itself. She finally tells Elza that she isn't that little girl anymore.

"You are Elza Walker! Yhe Woman who can never be slowed! You're unreachable! Unstoppable! And no one will ever hurt you again!... I... don't want to see you hurt again"

Elza didn't speak for a while after that... but eventually she did and what she said broke Claire.

"I've wished for someone like you my whole life Claire"

~

Life returned to normal soon after that. One tournament race was enough to bring Elza Walker roaring back to life and with a vengeance. She was faster, she was braver, her smile after each weekly victory able to light up the world... or at least Claire's, who now made it a point to go to every race, or at least watch it on TV if the race was in a city too far out of reach.

Elza knew Claire was watching her... she figured that's why she was doing better now.

~

Spring came and went, the summer exams now already a fading memory to the pair, but foreshadowed by Claire losing her part-time job and being unable to find another one. With no means to pay for her student fees it looked like she would be forced to drop-out.

But Elza wouldn't have any of it.

"I know how you can pay off your fees. A guy in my pit crew retired a month ago and I've been short two hands ever since. It's hard work but the pays good and if I make pro next month it'll be even better"; she said idly at a bar one evening.

"You... you want me in your pit crew?"; Claire asked incredulously.

"No, I want you as my personal pitbabe so I can drool at you in a tight spandex jumpsuit looking all cute with dirt on your face"; Elza said with a lop-sided smile.

"Ha!"

"Hm... seriously Claire, I want you there with me. I can't imagine anyone better to look after me on the track"; Elza said confidently.

"...You do take way too many risks"; Claire mused, before Elza held her cheek in her hands.

"You told me once that I am the woman who can never be slowed... well Redfield, I'd slow down for you!"

~

Elza's manager might have called her decision to hire Claire personally driven and entirely unprofessional. However, Claire proved herself highly compotent within a week of employment, being able to keep up with the repairs, adjustments and tyre changes her job demanded.

It was also found that Elza actually listened to Claire whenever she was pushing her luck, which turned out to be a blessing in the final race of the season in San Francesco. Her main rival who was tied for 1st with Elza didn't want to lose to a woman, and in the final 3 laps had begun making poor judgement calls to try and keep up with her. Risky overtakes, tight cornering and high speed was equally met, and soon Elza found herself in a dogfight she refused to lose.

If Claire hadn't screamed at her to brake before the last corner, she would have been thrown off her bike with her rival after an attemped inside lane overtake resulted in them losing control of the bike and wiping out.

Elza won of course, making it into the professional league. It was a dream come true. At no point after she took off her helmet and locked teary eyes with Claire could she make any expression that wasn't a bashful smile or tears of joy. It also seemed like she couldn't stop looking at Claire during the victory reception or later that night on the train ride home... where she had too much to drink, leaving Claire having to help Elza meander into the sleeping car after the 8th Buttery Nipple.

She helped her move herself onto the bed, but Elza didn't let go of her hand. Instead she brought her hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles and held it to her cheek as she openly wept.

[gerrystamour]

love is a target with my heart painted on it - the b-side

Written by: GerryStAmour

Tags and summary below the cut.

Chapter One: Related to: Letting Go

“Well, you’re certainly in a good mood, Juno,” Nureyev commented from the vanity as Juno entered his quarters, his own smile spreading slowly when the detective looked over at him. Well, it was more like  their  quarters, but so far neither of them were quite ready to admit it. Juno just stayed in Nureyev’s room more often than not, and talking about it wasn’t important yet. Probably.

“I am,” Juno declared after a moment’s thought as he kicked off his boots and quickly stripped as he walked through the room. 

It almost came to Juno like a surprise to say out loud, even though the pleasant moods seemed to outnumber the bad ones these days. It was something he was still getting used to enjoying while not waiting for “the catch.” Or not actively creating “the catch” himself.

Juno stood in front of the dresser in just a pair of lacy black panties, debating what he wanted to wear to bed. It was always a dilemma to be weighed out carefully; on one hand, he could wear proper pyjamas but something a little sexy in bed was always fun, too.

Glancing over his shoulder, Juno could see the thief watching him in the mirror, and he turned back to the dresser with a sly grin. 

Juno chose a pale pink babydoll with a fancy little front-clasp and slipped it on. It barely covered him from chest to hips, the front of the skirt parting tantalizingly when he moved to show off his stomach and panties. With a smile back at Nureyev in the mirror, Juno turned toward the bed.

It was a fairly massive thing by Juno’s standards, far larger than the double he had owned back in Hyperion City. The Carte Blanche used to be a pleasure vessel for carting tourists around, so the rooms were fairly nicely furnished if a bit dated and threadbare by the time Buddy came into possession of it. 

Over Nureyev’s bed was the canopy made up of scarves, gauzy materials, and various trinkets and items the man had “collected” along the way. Throughout the layers of scarves and fabrics, strings of fairy lights had been woven to provide them with light, tinged with the colours of fabrics they shone through.

At that moment, the canopy at the side of the bed was tied open, the duvet and mountain of pillows inside bathed in a kaleidoscope of colours and beckoning him inward. Not one to turn down such an enticing invitation, Juno crawled in and maybe he deliberately swayed his hips saucily as he did so. Who knows? 

There wasn't any way Nureyev could prove it if he had, at least. 

“My mood could always get even...  better ,” Juno said with a sultry dip of his voice as he stretched out at the pillows.

He laid flat on his stomach with a bent knee, hiking the hem of his baby doll up to give Nureyev a little peek of the swell of his ass. With a demure sigh, he rose to his elbows to smile coyly over at his lover, who was still watching him like a hawk in the mirror. Nureyev’s dark eyes were focused on him with an intensity that was normally reserved for the riches they stole, sending a shiver up Juno’s spine.

“Oh, I’m certain it could, Juno,” the thief replied, his voice dropping an octave in a way that made Juno shudder lightly. “What does my lady ask for?”

Juno rolled his eye, feeling his face heat again. 

Somehow, he would always forget the way Nureyev demanded detailed bedroom requests. The liar claimed it was all part of their “communication” deal, putting words to their “wants and desires, even the baser urges of the carnal variety” or whatever the hell Nureyev called it. 

Juno was sure this was just Nureyev looking to get Juno to stammer.

“C’mon, Nureyev...” Juno eventually said when the man only raised his eyebrow at his embarrassed silence.

The thief stood up and untied the belt of his silk robe to reveal a deep purple camisole and a matching pair of shorts, the edges trimmed with even darker lace. It was one of Juno’s favourite sets, and Nureyev knew that about him as well. There was something about how that rich colour sat against all of his pale skin that had need bubbling in Juno’s gut every time he saw him wearing it.

“You know you need to actually tell me what you want, Juno,” Nureyev sighed, striding over to the dresser in the corner and glancing over his shoulder knowingly as he did.

“I just want...” Juno trailed off, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought. He wanted to be taken care of, to feel wanted, needed, desirable. He wanted to be held and made to feel  good . He wanted to make Nureyev feel good, feel loved.  Juno wanted it so much, and so badly, but the thought of voicing it brought so much heat to his face, he worried he might burst into flames.

“Yes, my goddess?” Nureyev prompted when Juno didn’t continue, grinning toothily at the scowl sent his way from the bed.

Juno sighed with annoyance and rolled over to prop himself up against the veritable mountain of pillows the other man insisted on sleeping with. Arching his back a bit, Juno let the split in the front of his babydoll fall open, revealing his hips and the wisp of black lace he charitably called panties. With one arm bent and tucking behind his head, Juno began trailing the fingernails of his free hand gently up and down the middle of his abdomen. 

The movement drew Nureyev’s gaze, as Juno knew it would, and he bit his lip with an exaggerated sigh. 

“Want you to fuck me,” Juno finally bit out, such crass words barely doing the treatment he desired most justice. Nureyev made a noise at the wording as well, and Juno rolled his eye. “Fine, I want you to ‘make love’ to me or whatever sappy phrase you wanna hear.”

“It certainly sounds prettier,” Nureyev replied with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well I just want you over here, on the bed, between my legs and  fucking  me,” Juno bit around a moan as his hand slipped lower to play with the growing bulge straining against his panties.

“Is that the extent of your request, my goddess?” Nureyev asked, his voice low and dark before climbing into the bed holding a few items that had Juno’s heart racing. 

Juno shivered under the molten gaze of his lover, spreading his legs even wider as Nureyev crawled between them on his knees. He reached easily across the bed to pull the scarf tying the canopy open, and soon they were completely isolated to the bed, not a care in the world for anything beyond their little love nest.

“No teasing tonight?” Juno added softly, tipping his chin up to wordlessly ask for a kiss.

Juno normally loved being teased beyond coherency, thrived on it really, but right now he felt too vulnerable for it. He was so happy, so content, so  safe , Juno just wanted to celebrate with the one he cared for. 

“I’m sure I can manage that for you, my beautiful lady,” Nureyev sighed, spreading his own legs wide so he could lay almost flat on top of Juno and seal their mouths together perfectly. 

While their tongues played, Juno slipped a hand down the front of Nureyev’s shorts, huffing a small laugh at the way the man’s stomach jumped at the light touch. Juno teased at a line of what felt like three piercings; one at the just inside the pointed spur of Nureyev’s hip, another a few inches down, and a final one just above his pelvic bone. Juno knew there was a matching set of piercings down the other side of his lower abdomen, and grinned at the way Nureyev shuddered when he played with them with some determination. 

When his fingers met slick folds at the junction of Nureyev’s thighs unimpeded by underthings, Juno couldn’t help groaning. The thought of Nureyev sitting there wearing nothing beneath his shorts, waiting for Juno to come to bed and discover it, was intoxicating. 

With a happy sigh, he pressed his fingers into Nureyev’s wet core and rubbed his palm against his dick. The penetration, brief and shallow as it was, pulled a pleased moan from his lover and he ground his dick down against his hand.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Juno groaned, mumbling the words against his lover’s mouth and shuddering. He paused as he withdrew to play with Nureyev’s dick, paying extra attention to the piercing there too and wrenching a near-sob from the man. 

“You know what playing with the links  does to me, Juno,” Nureyev groaned accusingly, his hips stuttering to get more pressure against his dick.

When Nureyev said “links”, he was referring to the piercings Juno had been fondling all the way down his lower abdomen, as well as the one he was currently rolling around between his knuckles. And of course, Juno knew what this did to Nureyev; that was the entire reason he did it at all. 

The “links” were a superficial neural hook-up designed to allow him to feel things with certain accessories or prosthetics. It would feel just as real as the actual limb. Or an appendage, even. 

This was to say that Nureyev had an amazing and  very expensive strap-on.

It wasn’t the largest of Nureyev’s cocks, nor did it have any fun bumps, grooves, or vibrating features that would make Juno’s head spin for hours. But all of that meant very little where it actually mattered. The high-tech strap-on felt like an actual cock, made it so Nureyev felt like he was part of their passion rather than an accessory to Juno’s. The thief would never think of their trysts like that, but Juno couldn’t just ignore the way Nureyev shook apart in his arms when they used it. 

Overall, the effect of the strap would have Nureyev quickly dissolving under his own pleasure, mouth slack and eyes glazed as he fucked Juno until they both were utterly spent. It was always a beautiful sight, always unbelievably hot, and most definitely addictive. Nureyev could come while buried deep inside him, actually  feeling what it was like to be connected so intimately. 

The only downside was that they couldn’t use it every time they made love. This was partially for the general upkeep of the prosthetic, but overuse also caused a somewhat permanent neural linking, resulting in desensitization. That was expected and even desired to a degree with a prosthetic arm or leg, but not a cock that expensive.

Nureyev pulled back just enough to grab Juno’s wrist, shuddering desperately before guiding the fingers coated in his own slick to his mouth. The thief moaned thickly at the taste of himself, and something shorted out in Juno’s head, his vision going hazy as he struggled to breathe.

“Do you want to fuck me, my goddess?” Nureyev whispered as he lifted his mouth off of Juno’s fingers with a wet pop.

The idea had merit, that was for certain, especially with how Nureyev was absolutely dripping with his own desire. However, Juno just wanted to be held and pampered, to feel loved even if he didn’t quite feel he deserved it yet, and he was about ready to beg for it if he had to. Years ago, he was told by someone that made him something called a “pillow princess.” Juno just called that “having common sense.”

“No,” Juno whined, shaking his head while his face heated, his hand slapping across the surface of the bed until he found the purple strap-on and picked it up. Shoving it into Nureyev’s chest, he added in a low, warning tone, “Want you to  fuck me , Nureyev”

“Of course, my Juno,” the thief murmured, pressing in for a kiss so deep, Juno could swear he felt it in his soul. They made out until they were both breathless and Juno was rutting his aching, weeping cock helplessly against Nureyev’s stomach.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you are, my goddess,” Nureyev whispered, lifting up onto his knees to take off his shorts and take the strap from Juno’s grasp. 

He winked at Juno as he pressed the thick knob of it into his core, groaning and allowing his eyes to roll back in his head as it sank home. 

The strap-on perfectly cupped Nureyev, connecting with the link in his dick, and the phallus arched out past his pelvis. It was far from realistic, but that almost made it hotter for Juno. He shuddered with anticipation as he looked down at that obvious piece of tech, its deep purple silicone lining set against Nureyev’s pale skin. 

Juno  really  loved the contrast of dark against pale on Nureyev.

After situating the strap inside himself, Nureyev gave the cock a few deliberate pumps. He shuddered when the six links on his lower abdomen lit up with a dim amber, which began to pulse gently.

“Now, while that finishes linking up,” Nureyev murmured and he finally slipped Juno’s underwear off, tossing them to the side. They likely got caught up in Nureyev’s artfully disorganized canopy of stuff, which to Juno was almost hilarious enough to laugh at. Before he could actually register that thought, a slick finger pressed into him without warning and dragged a soft whimper from his throat.

“You brute,” Juno grunted teasingly at the slight discomfort, grinning up at his lover as he rocked his hips lightly against the thin digit.

“A brute, you say?” Nureyev asked slyly, curling his finger and instantly nailing his prostate. Juno scrambled back against the mattress with a punched-out moan, seemingly trying to escape the exquisite pleasure, even as he ground his hips down for more.

Despite such a teasing start, Nureyev seemed to remember Juno’s request and was thankfully efficient with his preparation. The thief was absolutely perfect, doing enough to get Juno loose and pliant while keeping him aroused, but not so much to get him too close to coming all over himself. That didn’t make it any less intense, and naturally, Nureyev couldn’t stay so straightforward for long.

“Nureyev,” Juno whimpered as three long fingers twisted and scissored inside him. “C’mon, I’m ready, knock it off already.”

“Of course you are, my Juno. So perfect and beautiful, so good for me,” Nureyev moaned, his other hand pumping his own cock to test the link-up. The links pulsed a bright green before settling on a dim blue. “Such a good little lady, I can’t wait to feel you.”

“Then get on with it,” Juno tried to growl, but it came out more like a petulant grumble and Nureyev laughed.

“Of course, my beautiful lady,” the thief said, and he bent over Juno to kiss him deeply again, driving his fingers directly into his prostate. “How do you want me to take you, Juno?”

“Like this,” he sobbed against Nureyev’s mouth, one hand grabbing the thief’s thin wrist as Juno arched his back, his eye lolling back in his head. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to stop Nureyev, or keep his fingers there.

“Perfect,” Nureyev purred before sitting back on his knees and tugging at the grip on his wrist. When Juno didn’t let go, Nureyev pressed his thumb into his perineum and crooked his fingers against his sweet spot simultaneously.

Juno’s head flew back with a broken sound, his firm grip on Nureyev’s wrist turning nearly painful as he frantically rutted into the torturous pleasure. Juno thought he might be about to pass out as it became more and more difficult to catch his breath around his moans. 

“You have to let go of my wrist if you want me to fuck you, Juno,” Nureyev murmured against his ear, his voice infuriatingly level while Juno was shaking to pieces beneath him. Turning his head to look into his lover’s face, though, Juno let out a thick groan.

To someone who knew Peter Ransom, the man looming over Juno was smugly pleased, sharp teeth glinting in the lights that lined the canopy, his eyes heavy-lidded and sultry. 

Juno though, who knew Peter Nureyev, could see the slight shiver to his lower lip, the way his normally sharp gaze was cloudy with arousal, the deepness of his flush reaching the tips of his ears. Nureyev hadn’t even been touched yet and he was barely holding himself together, and Juno  did that  to him. He was an absolute vision of need and pleasure, and  Juno did that. 

It was enough to break his own cloud of hazy desire, and Juno’s natural instinct to be a brat kicked in. It was always fun to see how far he could push it, and it was almost always worth it.

With a slightly exaggerated moan, Juno tightened his grip and held Nureyev’s gaze. By the thief’s dark smirk, it was clear the man had caught on to him.

Nureyev wasted no time crawling down the length of Juno’s body, his smirk still in place. There was only a moment for Juno to fully realize what was happening before the thief winked and sealed his mouth over the head of his cock. 

“Oh,  fuck !” Juno shouted before lifting his free hand to bite the heel of his palm to quiet himself. 

Nureyev chuckled before hollowing his cheeks and sucking on the head with incredible enthusiasm. Without even thinking, Juno released the thief’s wrist to gently cup his cheek, his thumb brushing along Nureyev’s lips. To his utter dismay, however, Nureyev pulled back off with a pop.

“Good girl,” he sighed, the glint in his eyes mischievous and dangerous, and took Juno into his mouth and throat. 

Nureyev’s nose hit his lower abdomen, and Juno’s hands were on the back of his head. With fingers tangling in silky, dark hair, Juno held him down as his hips bucked up against his mouth. He hadn’t realized Nureyev had ceased the assault on his prostate until it returned with a vengeance. Now that it was accompanied by Nureyev doing his level best to suck Juno’s soul out through his cock, he  screamed before he could stop himself.

“ Nn  -Nureyev--I can’t, I’m gonna--” Juno panted as the coil wound tight in his stomach, lighting him up from the inside, and his hands moved to shove at Nureyev’s forehead. “Nureyev,  please !”

Nureyev instantly lifted off of him with a wet pop, withdrawing his fingers simultaneously, and Juno found himself empty and cold on the bed. Hazily, he could tell that Nureyev was kneeling between his thighs and moving, heard the cap on the bottle of lube popping open and then shut, and then a low groan. 

It felt like he was alone in the middle of the bed for half a century before Nureyev shuffled back up the bed, propping himself above Juno on his elbow. With tremendous effort, Juno managed to meet his lover’s heated gaze and lift his legs to wrap them around Nureyev’s trim waist. The thief was breathless, flushed, his hair hanging in a mess of tangles as he looked down at Juno.

The absolute adoration in the man’s gaze had Juno’s breath stuttering out of his lungs. The intensity of that affection, the casual emotional intimacy, in the middle of something so carnal and debauched had tears threatening to bubble up.

“Ready, my love?” Nureyev murmured, and the head of his cock lining up. Juno was so loose and slick from the thorough preparation that the length was already sinking into Juno by the time Nureyev finished his question.

“Fuck me,” Juno sobbed, squeezing his legs and shifting his hips to take more of Nureyev into himself. The movement worked, and Juno shouted as the length spreading him open shifted a couple of inches inward. “Just  fuck me , goddamn it!”

“As my lady commands,” Nureyev said with a sigh, his other arm sliding around Juno’s waist and holding him tightly.

That was the only warning Juno had before Nureyev snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside his pliant body. The shout (it was actually a scream if Juno was being honest) that was punched out of him rang in the room and Juno knew he owed Jet a huge apology in the morning.

Without any further teasing, Nureyev set a frantic pace, dropping his mouth to Juno’s to try muffling the sobs that fell from his lips at every slide home. The kiss could hardly be called that, with how sloppy it was, their mouths open and tongues moving against each other, and it didn’t do much to muffle Juno at all. Even if there  was a way to silence the noises Juno was making, the sound of Nureyev’s hips and thighs against his skin alone was loud enough to be heard out in the hall.

“So beautiful,” Nureyev sighed against Juno’s lips, moving to kiss away the tears that were now flowing freely from Juno’s eyes.

“Shut up,” Juno sobbed as the thief dipped lower to bite his earlobe with his sharp teeth. 

“But you are, my dear Juno, so beautiful,” Nureyev insisted as he sat up, grabbing Juno’s hips with both hands and looking down at him. The bastard hadn’t even slowed down, Juno thought a little bitterly, but it didn’t last long with the way his insides lit up with each strong thrust.

Juno managed to open his eye and look up at his lover, gasping at his beauty in the low lighting. The thief’s hair was an absolute mess, sticking to the sweat on his face and neck, the ends curling. The flush on Nureyev’s cheeks had deepened and his eyes were darker, half-lidded and hungry. He was still wearing his camisole, though one of the straps had slipped off his shoulder and Juno wanted to taste the newly exposed skin.

“So gorgeous,” the thief moaned, thumbs stroking gently across the scarred skin Juno’s waist and lower abdomen.

Nureyev reached for the clasp of Juno’s babydoll with one hand and undid it, sweeping the gauzy material away impatiently. As the bare line of Juno’s torso came into view, Nureyev sighed happily, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigour. Juno was beside himself, every thrust into his core lighting him up, the head of his lover’s cock dragging along his sweet spot on every inward glide.

Juno jolted when slender fingers began working one of his nipples, pinching it and rolling it gently before tugging on the piercing he had there. With a guttural sound of pleasure, Juno’s eye rolled back and he arched desperately into the touch.

“So radiant,” Nureyev moaned, his voice shaking as he sat back up to his full height over Juno. “Are you close, my love?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, I’m so close,” Juno sobbed, reaching down to touch himself but Nureyev knocked his hand away lightly.

“Not yet, love,” Nureyev murmured, his brow furrowing with concentration. 

“Fuck you, Nureyev,” Juno whimpered but obeyed, moving his hand up to his chest to play with his nipple, if only to give his hand something to do. He managed to wrestle some coherency to snipe up at Nureyev, “Is this allowed?”

“Of course, my goddess,” Nureyev moaned, and then his slender hands were moving again. They slipped down to his hips and held him with bruising strength, the slight pain sparking arcs of pleasure up Juno’s spine. That grip was his only warning before Nureyev began to  properly  fuck him into the mattress.

The new pace and intensity had Nureyev’s cock hitting his prostate with devastating accuracy, wrenching sobbing cries and desperate pleas for release. Juno was babbling his need, both hands on his own chest to keep himself from stroking his cock. 

Juno’s release was suddenly  right there , regardless of his efforts. 

“ Nn-  Nureyev!” Juno shouted, eye wide as he met his lover’s gaze, his hands dropping to hold onto Nureyev’s wrists for dear life. “‘M  close !”

“You can hold out a little longer, goddess,” the thief said encouragingly, apparently either misunderstanding the situation or greatly overestimating Juno’s ability to handle such a relentless assault on his sweet spot.

“Can’t, I can’t!” Juno sobbed, tears actually forming as his eye rolled back in his head. “You don’t--  shit,  Nureyev, I’m gonna--  fuck !”

On the next planet-shattering thrust, the coil in his gut snapped. Somehow, Juno managed to meet Nureyev’s gaze once again just a moment before it happened, and then his back was arching and his head was thrown back. The cry upon his release was wordless, loud, and almost pained as he came across his stomach and chest. It felt forced out of him, his cock pulsing and aching without friction, and even as he came down from the clouds he realized he was still  hard .

“ Fuck ,” Juno whined, writhing under the relentless pounding against him, and with some effort, he made eye contact with Nureyev again.

The thief looked stunned, mouth hanging open as he observed the mess across Juno’s stomach. 

“You never told me you could come just like this.” Nureyev eventually said, almost accusingly as he stilled his hips to give Juno a moment. There was a look in his eyes, however, that would have worried the former detective if he hadn’t been recovering from one of the most intense orgasms he’d had in years.

“Didn’t know I still could,” Juno confessed breathily, swallowing thickly and making a face at Nureyev, letting out a shivery sigh at being so sensitive, so full, and so hard. “Haven’t in a while. And it’s not something you just  say,  anyway. Oh hey, Nureyev, so fifteen years ago I found out I could--  ah! ”

The thief thrust roughly into him, sending fire up Juno’s spine and effectively shutting him up. “As lovely as your voice is dear, we will have to save this conversation for another time, hm?” Nureyev said a bit smugly, smirking knowingly at Juno’s halfhearted glare.

“Asshole,” Juno grumbled, or tried to but it came out as a sigh as Nureyev’s hips began to move against him again.

There was something almost wild in Nureyev’s gaze now, his sharp teeth bared and his movements stilted. One of Nureyev’s hands slowly followed the path his eyes had taken down Juno’s torso, slender fingertips dragging through the sticky puddles and smearing them over his heated skin. The former detective’s chest was heaving; he was out of breath and being driven nearly completely out of his mind with overstimulation.

When long, pale fingers closed around Juno’s cock, he came close to screaming. He bit down on his bottom lip until he tasted copper and his entire body tense with want. Somehow, against all odds, Juno was close to coming again and his whole body felt like it was about to fly apart at the seams.

“Oh,  Juno ,” Nureyev moaned reverently, his own eyes rolling back as he fucked Juno’s tight heat harder and faster. The thief looked so fucking beautiful, hair clinging to the sweat of his brow and blushing cheeks, his sharp teeth pressing into the meat of his lower lip.

“Kiss me,” Juno demanded through his pleasure, reaching up as far as he could to pull him down. “Please,  please , kiss me, Nureyev.”

The thief didn’t need much convincing, and Juno found himself quickly smothered in a desperate kiss. And that was enough for him, apparently, because Juno was coming again, wailing into the panting mouth of his lover. Juno was still shuddering through his second release when Nureyev wrapped both of his arms around his waist tightly and his thrusts turned rougher, harder.

Juno couldn’t even shout anymore. All he could do was sob breathlessly into the humid air of their “love nest,” holding the back of Nureyev’s head as the man dropped it to his shoulder to mouth across the sweaty and scarred skin there. Tears were streaming out of the corners of Juno’s eyes, overwhelmed as he was with overstimulation, and it was quickly becoming painful. But Nureyev still had to come, and Juno refused to let this stop until his lover was satisfied.

“Oh,  Juno ,” Nureyev groaned again and slammed home a final time, sinking his sharp teeth into the meat of Juno’s shoulder. The sound that left Juno was exhausted, exultant, and absolutely wrecked. With a punched-out moan, Nureyev shuddered and Juno felt his whole body shiver through his orgasm.

They laid together for a long while, panting through the aftershocks of their tryst until Juno stiffly lowered his legs to the bed and Nureyev pulled out. The thief hummed when he lifted his head, surveying his mark before licking the abused flesh for a moment. 

With a gentle kiss to the bruise, Nureyeve lifted his head and met Juno’s gaze, grinning tiredly.

“Well, that was certainly something,” Nureyev said, dipping to kiss the corner of Juno’s mouth where it twitched upward with a smile.

“That was a goddamned miracle, Nureyev,” Juno replied, sliding a hand down the thief’s front to help with removing the strap-on. “I haven’t done the whole double-tap thing since I was, like, twenty-two.”

“That was a happy accident on my part, my love,” Nureyev said with a chuckle, licking into Juno’s mouth with a satisfied sigh as the former detective pulled the strap out from inside him. It was so wet with slick, Juno almost dropped it and the desire to taste was  very  strong.

But he was truly exhausted, his entire body shaking and weak under his lover. 

“Let’s keep these ‘accidents’ to a minimum, yeah?” Juno groaned around a yawn. “I’m turning forty soon, heart can’t take it.”

“Oh, my dear, don’t you see?” Nureyev said dramatically, grinning at the flat look Juno gave him. “This is merely an incentive for you to work on your cardio like you claim you’ve been doing!”

“Nuh-uh,” the former detective grumbled, not actually able to come up with a counterargument, before wrapping his arms around the man and holding him tight.

“Let me up, gorgeous,” Nureyev murmured after allowing himself a few moments to cuddle, and Juno let his arms fall away from him. When the thief pushing himself up and off of Juno, he could not help but look at the mess his cum had made of Nureyev’s purple camisole during their snuggling. It was  very hot, Juno decided while he yawned again, closing his eye for just a moment.

When Juno opened it again, however, his stomach and chest were being wiped clean with a warm cloth, and belatedly he realized he had dozed off. 

Above him, Nureyev’s hair was combed back, and he was wearing a pair of boxer-briefs. He had shed the camisole at some point, and Juno was more than pleased to see all that bare skin. Nureyev caught his eye and smiled gently, setting off a bloom of warmth in Juno’s gut and a blush heated his cheeks. Angling his chin up, Juno wordlessly demanded a kiss, which Nureyev happily obliged, the touch feather-light and chaste.

After another blink, Juno found himself tucked into bed, clean and naked with Nureyev spooned tightly up against his back. The lights in the canopy had been turned off, and the thief was snoring lightly against his shoulder blade. 

Something ached in Juno’s chest as he laid there, listening to Nureyev’s sleepy noises, felt the skin on his shoulder dampen with the steady breaths puffing across it. It was something he was just about ready to call love, and this time he didn’t want to run away from it. He wanted to stay and see this feeling through.

With a contented sigh, Juno shifted a bit in Nureyev’s arms and settled himself back to sleep.

[sariahsue]

You know what would be more fun than writing AUs?  Combining AUs.  I took the most common ones in the Miraculous fandom and smashed them all together!  Here’s what I think reverse crush AU, enemies AU, aged up AU, and soulmate AU would look like combined into one story: 

They are older.  Boom.  That takes care of the aged up AU.  I'm thinking late teens?

Ladynoir are enemies, but Cat Noir is still a big flirt with her (due to his personality and repressed attraction to her, mostly).  He doesn't really mean his compliments and flirts, and he doesn't realize that they work their magic on Ladybug anyway.  She tries to pretend they don't, but they do. 

She brushes him off while they're fighting, but when she gets home she has to lie down because she's “tired from fighting.” Really, it's because the butterflies in her stomach are overwhelming and her romantic fantasies make her weak in the knees.

I'm not really sure why Ladynoir are enemies.  Maybe one of them is being lied to about the situation and thinks they're right.  Maybe one of them is being emotionally manipulated and used and doesn't realize it.  And just for fun, let's say it's Ladybug, because I feel like it's always Cat Noir who's the villain in these enemy AUs.

They fight on a regular basis, but they’re pretty evenly matched, so neither makes much headway toward their goal, whatever that is.

Ooh.  Maybe Gabriel isn’t Hawk Moth.  He’s still a neglectful and emotionally abusive butt, though.  Marinette has the bad luck to be under Hawk Moth’s thumb instead.  And he/she is horrible to her.

Tikki – who knows Marinette is on the wrong side but can't get her to listen – probably encourages her feelings for Cat Noir to try to help turn her to the good side.  She doesn't know Cat Noir's identity, and Plagg doesn't know Ladybug's, so they can only offer simple advice, not helpful hints.

Marinette and Cat Noir meet, and, against her better judgement, Marinette can't really help but use her secret identity to her advantage to secure his affections.  He's starved for attention and love, which she enthusiastically and passionately gives, and he's immediately ensnared.  Marichat quickly becomes official, though they keep it a secret.  Can't let the notorious Ladybug use Marinette against the Hero of Paris, after all.

Marinette hates being enemies with the love of her life and hates being desperately in love with her bitter enemy, and she hates how fighting with him on a regular basis hurts so much.  She hates hiding her identity from him, but she is terrified that he would abandon her if he ever learned the truth.  She also has to hide the relationship from Hawk Moth.  The secrets weigh on her heavily.

Adrien's never been so happy.  For the first time in his life, he's finally got all the love he ever wanted, but it's marred by the fact that he can't tell the world, and he's constantly worried that his job will put her in danger.  It doesn't stop him from going to see her every spare moment he has, though.  She’s addicting.

Adrien and Marinette meet, and Adrien is thrilled.  He can finally be seen with her in public!  Not knowing that he's Cat Noir, she's kind to him but distant.  He hates the separation between them, knowing that they can't be a couple like normal people can.  Their secret relationship can never last in its current form, and he can't stand to lose her, but he can't tell her his identity, either.  

He tries to win her over outside of the mask, but she's too in love with Cat Noir and rejects Adrien's advances, possibly making herself even more distant in the process.

Marinette later learns that Adrien is her soulmate, not Cat Noir.  She is forced to interact with him as Marinette and Ladybug many, many times for a myriad of reasons.  She's like, no thank you, universe. I'm in love with someone already.  Stop throwing us together!  (I have no idea why a fashion model would be forced to hang out with a supervillain, though.)

To make matters worse, Adrien's constantly trying to (nicely, even though she's a supervillain and supposedly evil, because he's a nice guy like that) push her away when she's Ladybug, and win her over when she's Marinette.  It's confusing, and she hates it.  But she also can't deny that she is extremely attracted to him, and that makes her feel guilty about betraying her feelings for Cat Noir.  

After a while, Adrien's attentions to Marinette start to feel nice instead of grating, though she tries to lie to herself about it.  She starts to get upset when Adrien pushes her away when she's Ladybug.  She lies about that too.  

She hides the fact that she knows who her soulmate is from Cat Noir.

Meanwhile, Adrien learns that Ladybug is his soulmate, not Marinette.  He is initially appalled that he is supposed to be soulmates with a villainess.  He tries to ignore this newfound knowledge as he attacks her and starts to notice all his enemy's good qualities.  He reminds himself that he has a girlfriend and that he needs to do everything he can to ensure that they can be together forever, and that means stopping Ladybug. Permanently.  

He tells himself that his mind is just playing tricks on him. Ladybug's objectively attractive, but that doesn't mean that he has feelings for her.  The knowledge that she's his soulmate is messing with his emotions, he tells himself.  Those aren't his true feelings shining through... he tells himself.  

He tries to hide his changing feelings about Ladybug from her, both as Adrien and as Cat Noir, though he isn't sure how successful he is. 

He hides the fact that he knows who his soulmate is from Marinette.

This is all made more complicated when Ladybug, still being lied to/manipulated, finally figures out that she's in the wrong and accepts, anguished, that she's inflicted a lot of pain on innocent people.  To make it extra awful, she can't see how to extricate herself from the situation.  She's trapped by the lies/manipulation/her own bad choices/society's and Cat Noir's views of her, and she feels powerless to change.  

Cat Noir, not knowing that she's really Marinette, rejects all of her attempts to get closer to him, thinks her pleading for his help is a trick, refuses to even talk privately with her when she begs him. This reinforces her idea that she can NEVER reveal her identity to the love of her life, and it's killing her.  She's going to lose him.  She needs him, he’s keeps her sane through all the manipulation and agony Hawk Moth puts her though, and she's going to lose him.

The whole square would eventually devolve into an angsty mess – with both of them trying to hide their attraction and feelings from each other, with plenty of hurt and guilt to go around – but something happens.  Maybe one person's identity is revealed.  Maybe both are. Maybe one figures it out but doesn't tell the other.  Maybe one confesses to being soulmates with someone else.  Maybe Cat Noir proposes to Marinette.  Maybe she proposes to him.  Maybe one of them is feeling so guilty about being in love with two people that he/she breaks up Marichat.  Maybe Hawk Moth figures out Cat Noir's identity or about their secret relationship.  Maybe Ladybug finally switches to the good side, so they become allies instead of enemies, and it upsets their whole dynamic.  Maybe one finally defeats or seriously injures the other in battle.  Maybe several of those happen at once.  I don't know. (Is there any way to have them ALL happen at once?)

In the end, they are both hailed as superheroes, with Hawk Moth publicly held responsible as the real culprit, clearing Ladybug's name.  The two of them are finally completely honest with each other about their identities and feelings, and they finally, finally end up together and live happily ever after with their one-and-only beloved soulmate.

     I will never get the chance to write this, as I have a lot of other stories lined up and waiting, and it's not really my style of story to write (way too angsty).  So, I'm putting this summary here, because I thought it was a great idea that I was really proud of, and I wanted to share it, even if it's not in story form. 

     On the off chance you’re feeling inspired, I’m also giving permission for anyone to make anything out of this idea.  No need to ask in advance, just tag me when you’re posting it.  (To credit me with the idea, but also because I really want to see it!)