#but here he is! Mr. Slab!

[quagsthecryptid]

Hermit a day May 17: Etho!

Mr slab himself! I should really draw him more, I’ve missed it.

[ethtyn]

[ID: a screenshot of Minecraft chat messages and a screenshot of Etho.

image one:

<Etho> beef...

<VintageBeef> yes?

<Etho> i got stuck in your fountain

<VintageBeef> lol

<Pyro_0> wow beef get it together, health and safety violation!!!

<Etho> i thought there was a drop here

<VintageBeef> nope

<Etho> this place is dangerous

image two: a screenshot of Etho standing in a fountain, looking forlorn and bedraggled.

end description.]

Local pathetic ninja gets stuck in friend’s fountain

[pin-k-ink]

Oh my god, I love your writing and your blog is so beautiful !!! And I have a request 😭😭 can you write a Illumi x reader again? I read the last one, and it was amazing.

confluence // illumi zoldyck

tw ⇢ illumi kidnaps you (somewhat), mentions of prostitution, mentions of injuries, possessive behavior, imprisonment(?), strong sexual tension, hand job, nipple play, unprotected sex, marking, teasing, pussy job, praise kink

wc ⇢ 6.4k

a/n: the first part is really unnecessary but i like the fact that illumi is unhinged enough to actually kidnap someone just because he wanted to

The worn velvet curtain swept aside as Hisoka sauntered into the dimly lit parlor, his lips curved upwards in a sly smile.

"Ah, there's my favorite," he purred, catching your gaze from across the room. A leaden knot formed in your stomach at his presence.

You watched apprehensively as another figure emerged behind Hisoka - a tall, lean man with dead eyes and raven-black hair. Even from a distance, an aura of danger radiated off of him in waves. This was Illumi Zoldyck, you realized with a spike of trepidation.

"Mr. Zoldyck here has requested your...attentions for the evening," Hisoka practically leered, reveling in your discomfort. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted."

With a wink, he melted back through the curtain, leaving you alone with the renowned assassin. Illumi's hollow eyes slowly raked over your form, betraying neither interest nor repulsion. You felt like a slab of meat being appraised.

Swallowing hard, you managed a coy smile - the mask you had perfected to conceal your disgust. "Right this way, Mr. Zoldyck."

You led him through the rabbit warren of shadowed hallways to one of the private chambers. Every nerve ending prickled with unease at having this deadly man at your back. Once inside with the door closed, you turned to face him fully.

"How would you like to proceed?" you asked with practiced confidence, reaching up to slowly unlace the front of your dress.

In a sudden blur of movement, Illumi's hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist, stilling your movements while his other arm snaked behind your back. You gasped, stunned by his speed and proximity as his intense gaze bored into you.

"That won't be necessary," Illumi stated flatly. "I have no interest in pursuing sexual activities."

You blinked rapidly, his words slowly registering. A tiny coil of relief unfurled within you, though his vice-like grip kept you wary.

"Then...what am I here for?" you asked carefully, studying his expressionless face.

Illumi simply stared for a suspended moment before releasing you without a word. He moved to take a seat in one of the plush armchairs, resting one ankle on his knee as if getting comfortable for a prolonged stay.

"You may do as you wish," he stated dispassionately. "I simply require a quiet space away from prying eyes tonight."

His dead-eyed gaze drifted off, seeming to look straight through you. Utterly perplexed yet not eager to provoke him, you opted to keep to yourself. You passed the long hours in tense silence, stealing furtive glances at the unblinking assassin from time to time.

As dawn approached, Illumi stirred abruptly. Before you could so much as flinch, he crossed the room in a blink and hoisted you over his shoulder in one sinuous movement. You yelped in surprise, too stunned to struggle as he easily maneuvered your dead weight down the halls and out a back exit.

It wasn't until the brisk morning air hit your face that you found your voice. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere your...services will be permanent yet underutilized," Illumi replied cryptically as he strode on with disturbing speed and purpose.

The next thing you knew, you found yourself inside the imposing walls of the Zoldyck estate - prisoners of this strange assassin's whims.

You spent those first few days at the Zoldyck estate in a state of constant trepidation. The sprawling manor felt more like an inescapable fortress, with its towering walls, openly armed guards, and whispers of unspeakable secrets lurking around every corner.

Illumi had unceremoniously deposited you in a small but serviceable room, seemingly tucked away in one of the more reclusive wings of the estate. When you tentatively explored the adjoining bathroom and closet spaces, you found them stocked with basic necessities - soap, towels, simple clothing. It was clear this would be your new permanence quarters, for better or worse.

The first few nights, you slept in fits, jolting awake at every creak and groan of the ancient manor settling around you. You strained to listen for any sounds that might indicate Illumi's movements, your heart pounding at the mere thought of that cold, calculating predator roaming the same halls.

Finally, after nearly a week of self-imposed isolation, hunger and thirst pangs drove you to creep from your room in search of sustenance. You discovered the small kitchenette and pantry just down the corridor - clearly meant for your use, separate from the main household staff's facilities.

And so you settled into an understanding of your new role - a quiet, unseen shadow to keep this secluded wing tidy in Illumi's absence. For he was frequently away on jobs that would take him from dawn until dusk, according to the rhythmic comings and goings you deduced over the following weeks.

At first, fear gripped you whenever you sensed his presence upon one of his returns in the dead of night. You would freeze, ears straining to catch any sound that might betray which direction his silent footfalls were taking. Only when you heard the telltale sound of his chambers door opening and closing would you allow yourself to expel the pent-up breath.

Gradually, however, Illumi's routine became enmeshed in your own - an inescapable constant to which you acclimatized like rainfall to a drought-ridden land. You knew when he was home, when he was away, when he paced the halls in twilight like a specter plagued by insomnia.

True to his word, he never once made overt demands of you or behaved with anything more than cold disinterest during the rare occasions you caught glimpses of one another in passing. You were simply...there, serving your unclear purpose of being his secluded personal maid.

So the weeks blurred into months of solitary mundanity, your only duties being to dust, tidy, and keep Illumi's living quarters spotless while he came and went on his lethal missions. You weren't quite a prisoner, yet neither were you free in this dimly lit limbo of the estate's forbidden wings.

Until one night, when the haunting rhythm was shattered.

The shadow fell across your face, rousing you from fitful slumber. Your eyes flew open to find Illumi standing over your bed like a wraith manifested from the darkness itself. In the dim glow filtering through the curtains, you saw the dark splatters that coated his skin and clothes - unmistakably blood.

You jolted upright, mouth opening in a silent gasp as Illumi's penetrating stare bored into you. He said nothing, made no movement. Simply stood there with his blank yet demanding eyes fixed on you, as if issuing a voiceless summons.

Trembling, you forced yourself out from under the thin blankets, bare feet finding purchase on the chilled floor as you faced him fully. Up close, you could see the vivid streaks of crimson painting his porcelain features in macabre patterns. Whatever he had endured this night was beyond the scope of your imagination.

Illumi's eyes finally shifted, silently inclining his head in a subtle beckoning gesture. Throat constricting, you gave a hesitant nod of understanding. He turned and swept out into the hall, ruby footprints stippling the floor in his wake.

You wrapped a robe tightly around yourself and followed, your heart thundering with uncertain dread. He led you to the bathroom adjoining his sleeping quarters, the walk feeling like a funerary march.

Once inside, Illumi simply stood in the center of the room, awaiting your next move with an inscrutable deadness in his lifeless eyes. Gathering your nerves, you busied yourself drawing a hot bath, the rush of steaming water loud against the tomb-like silence.

From there, it became a ritualistic dance of sorts - you meticulously undressing him, peeling away each bloodstained layer until he stood before you in unvarnished vulnerability. His pale, lean-muscled body was a sprawling canvas of old scars and fresh lacerations made apparent.

Illumi stepped into the tub without preamble, lowering himself into the sudsy depths as more tendrils of red unfurled and bloomed across the water's surface. You found a cloth and bar of soap, kneeling beside the tub to gingerly begin wiping away the gore.

He held himself unnervingly still, that hollow stare fixed forward as you worked. You tried not to let your hands linger or trace the topography of his wounds. At least not at first.

But as more of the viscera was gradually sluiced away to reveal the sheer scope of his injuries, you couldn't help but let your fingertips ghost over the mangled flesh with a strange sort of morbid fascination.

You lost track of how long the two of you remained in that surreal, atavistic tableau. Illumi a gargoyle being ritualistically bathed, while you played priestess in undoing the night's violence carved into his body.

It was only when the bathwater finally grew cold and clouded that the spell was broken. As you wrung out the cloth one final time, you risked a glance up at his face and found Illumi's unblinking gaze piercing into you with...something you couldn't quite place.

A silent, infinite moment passed as that indescribable energy stretched to its fever pitch between you. Until finally, a shuddering breath escaped your lips, severing the connection as you felt your skin prickling with an irrational warmth.

From that night forth, his comings and goings grew more erratic. There were long stretches where Illumi seemed to rarely if ever depart the estate. You couldn't be certain, but his constant presence felt deliberate - as if he were now lingering by design.

And in turn, he began summoning you for minor, seemingly trivial tasks around his quarters or even his personal grooming. Requesting you dress gashes that would have been well within his capabilities to handle alone. Insisting you draw his bathwater at certain times, then dimissively dismissing you before actually bathing.

It was all highly mercurial and charged with some underlying tension, yet you remained thoroughly unable to discern its purpose or source. All you could deduce was that Illumi seemed to subconsciously crave your presence now in ways he did not comprehend himself.

So you resigned yourself to simply following his scant demands - becoming increasingly indispensable to him despite the ambiguities shrouding it all. Because in spite of everything, you could not ignore the enthralled fascination that had awakened within you that fated bloodied night you helped unmake his psychic scars.

The pungent tang of copper lingered thick in the steamy air as your hands glided over the taut plains of Illumi's back. Rivulets of diluted crimson swirled away with each firm stroke of the damp cloth, yet his body remained awash in a thousand miniature lacerations.

You worked with the same practiced meticulousness you had honed over these ritual bathings - a silent, meditative task allowing you to commit every meticulous angle and depression of his musculature to memory through touch alone. Illumi remained statuesque under your ministrations, seemingly unaffected by the intimate contact your fingers inevitably made.

Until a sharp hiss escaped through his clenched jaw as you inadvertently grazed an especially deep gash along his ribs. Illumi shifted infinitesimally, prompting you to freeze mid-motion, the washcloth hovering just above that inflamed, lacerated skin.

"My apologies," you murmured for what felt like the thousandth time, awaiting his silent dismissal of your accidental infraction.

Yet this time, Illumi showed no signs of waving away your concern. He simply remained still and tense as a tightly coiled knot of corded muscle flexing beneath his pallid flesh.

Tentatively, you resumed the motions of cleaning that particular wound, handling the area with featherlight caresses until you deemed it sufficiently clear of clotted blood and grime. All the while, Illumi held himself in a rigid line, the sound of his tightly controlled breaths the only accompaniment to the rhythmic lapping of bathwater.

Once you finished, you found yourself unwilling to withdraw contact completely. Almost of their own volition, your fingers traced upwards in a slow glissade, following the stark cords of Illumi's obliques, his abdomen rippling beneath your touch as you went.

There was an undeniable electricity now thrumming through the humid air - something visceral and primal you refused to put a name to. You became arrested by the motion of your own hands roving those slick, tensed contours, deviating from any sense of pragmatic purpose.

A ragged exhalation shuddered through Illumi's form as your meandering caresses drifted dangerously close to the waterline, the subtle motion enough to elicit a reaction. At last, he spoke in a low rasp that somehow cut straight through the dense miasma enveloping you both:

"You are...exceptionally thorough in your duties."

The jarring sound of his distinct timbre instantly snapped whatever unseen forces had lulled you into such an overt trance. You snatched your hands back as if burned, heat blossoming across your cheeks as you averted your gaze in a swirl of shame and embarrassment.

"My apologies, I...I don't know what came over me," you stammered, wringing the cloth futilely as you willed your heart to stop pounding against your ribcage.

Illumi uttered no reply, leaving the space between you suspended in weighted silence and unspoken tension. You chanced a sidelong glimpse to find him staring at you in that same unreadable way, his glassy eyes seeming to take in every nuanced shift in your expression.

Just as you felt you might suffocate under that penetrating scrutiny, Illumi finally broke away, levering himself up from the tub with elegantly economical movements. You instinctively scrambled up, backing away to give him space and turning to grab the nearest towel to offer.

He accepted it wordlessly, toweling off with those same dispassionate, methodical strokes you had so intimately catalogued. But now, you could not allow yourself to so much as let your gaze linger overlong as he wiped away the last vestiges of water from his lithe, sinewy form.

Nothing more was said between you. No dissections of how the evening's events had escalated towards that deliriously heated pinnacle where boundaries nearly dissolved between you.

Illumi simply moved to exit the bathroom on those silent footfalls of his, leaving you surrounded by the swirls of dissipating steam with only the too-loud pounding of blood in your ears as company.

Yet the unspoken undercurrent persisted from that night on. A charge now existed between you - electric, intoxicating, something unquantifiable that spoke to primal yearnings.

And you could no longer ignore the precipice you teetered on each time Illumi's penetrating gaze found yours, nor the dangerous thrills that sparked through your very marrow whenever his pale flesh brushed against yours.

It was maddeningly exquisite torture to be allowed such proximity to this beautiful, lethal creature while maintaining professionalism. But the tantalizing allure of that forbidden craving only grew more insistent with each passing rendezvous.

Until that tension felt fit to detonate you both into an explosion of unfettered need, consequences be damned.

You sat cross-legged on the floor of Illumi's chamber, deftly mending one of his torn shirts with a needle and thread. The mundane domesticity of this task allowed you to sink into a semblance of calm focus amidst the ever-present hum of tension surrounding him.

The soft splashing of bathwater from the adjoining room acted as a metronome, letting you know Illumi was nearby as he went about his evening ablutions. You tried not to visualize the rivulets cascading down those chiseled contours you had so intimately traced in the past.

A sharp prick to your finger snapped you out of your wandering reverie with a muted yelp. A bead of crimson welled up from the pinprick, eliciting a sting. Before you could so much as reach for a towel, a sudden flurry of movement materialized in your periphery.

Illumi appeared before you in nothing but a towel hastily cinched around his waist, still glistening with errant droplets. His expression was as unreadable as ever, yet his eyes burned with an intense, predatory focus zeroing in on the smear of red now adorning your fingertip.

"You're injured," he stated flatly, as if this mere scratch necessitated such urgency.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Illumi had already captured your hand in his calloused grip with one eerily fluid motion. He raised your wounded finger inexorably towards his face, those flinty eyes never wavering.

A shudder you didn't fully understand rattled through you as Illumi's lips parted. Then his tongue slowly, almost reverently, swiped across the bead of blood with one long, deliberate stroke.

You felt your breath hitch at the utterly bizarre, disturbingly intimate gesture. Yet Illumi seemed entirely absorbed, holding your finger hostage as he proceeded to lave away every last scarlet speck with an unflinching focus.

Only once he was apparently satisfied did he finally release you, his gaze darkening with something you refused to identify as he studied the flush creeping across your cheeks.

In one effortlessly fluid motion, Illumi exerted his superior strength and leverage to propel you both backwards until you landed amid the disheveled bedding with a breathless huff. You gazed up at him straddling your waist with an expression of pure shock rapidly morphing into confusion and apprehension as he loomed above you.

The weight of his piercing stare held you transfixed like a moth ensnared in a spider's web. You wanted to protest, to decry how utterly wrong and incomprehensible this situation had abruptly become. But your voice caught in your throat at the first flickers of blatant intent you'd ever witnessed stirring behind those depthless black pools...

Until finally, something akin to panic short-circuited your paralysis. You managed to wrench yourself somewhat free, shoving against Illumi's solid weight in a desperate bid to disengage before...before whatever other forbidden boundary he seemed primed to obliterate occurred.

He permitted you to dislodge him this time, rocking backward into a seated position beside you with that same unnatural poise and composure. As if your breathless scuffle amounted to little more than shifting atmospheric pressure.

Illumi held your flustered gaze for a torturous eternity, neither of you daring to move or speak. Until at last, he extricated himself from the bed with eerie grace and retreated from the room in silence, leaving you in a frantic tangle amid the tumultuous wake of his upheaval.

Several days had passed since that heated encounter where boundaries were nearly shattered between you and Illumi. An agonizing silence lingered in the estate's halls as you avoided one another, equally unmoored by the events.

Until you were summoned to Illumi's chambers once more in the dead of night. You steeled yourself before entering, chest tight with apprehension over what awaited you.

Illumi sat shirtless on the edge of his bed, eyes finding you immediately with their haunted intensity. Your breath caught as you took in the jagged laceration slicing across his collarbone - a nasty wound clearly requiring medical attention.

"Attend to this," he said flatly, though his tone seemed to hold unspoken layers beckoning you closer.

You gave a small nod, throat constricting as you gathered the suture kit with shaky hands. Medical instincts took over as you positioned yourself between Illumi's parted knees, feeling utterly exposed under his unwavering stare.

With practiced motions, you began cleaning the area, unable to ignore the contours of his toned chest rising and falling with each steady breath. You tried not to dwell on how close his lips were, how the strands of his raven hair brushed your cheek as you leaned in.

A tremor ran through you as Illumi's hands settled firmly on your hips when you went to start stitching the wound. His grip was searing even through the thin fabric of your clothes as he seemed to pull you infinitesimally nearer.

"You resisted me, before..." Illumi's low rumble reverberated through you both as you stilled under his touch. "Yet you don't withdraw from me now. I find you...confusing."

You could only manage a shaky exhalation, overwhelmed by the strain of this delirious proximity and the weight of his stare boring into you.

One of Illumi's hands drifted up, calloused fingers trailing over your clothed ribs until curling beneath your chin. He tilted your face up to meet his lidded gaze, now burning with unveiled yearning.

"What is it you want from me?" His words were a low rasp as his thumb traced the seam of your lips.

You trembled under his scrutiny, rendered utterly powerless by the smothering force of his presence. Illumi seemed to study every hitch of your breath, every subtle flutter of your lashes as his palm slid around to cup the back of your neck possessively.

He leaned in until you could feel the whispers of his exhalations ghosting across your parted lips. When he spoke again, his gravelly timbre shot straight through your core:

"Because I find myself...consumed by this insistent need to have you near. Yet I don't comprehend why it torments me so."

A wounded sound escaped you at the molten admission laced in his words. Illumi's grip tightened fractionally, keeping your faces just a fracture apart as his free hand roamed along the curve of your waist.

"Tell me..." he growled, lips catching yours in an electrifying caress. "Tell me what you want."

That final thread of propriety snapped as you succumbed fully, crashing your lips against Illumi's in a searing, desperate kiss. He responded with unleashed vehemence, devouring you as he insistently turned you around until your legs hit the mattress.

You went tumbling down with Illumi's weight covering you in one fluid motion, mouths clashing with reckless abandon. Everything burned with frenzied urgency as his calloused hands gripped and roamed possessively over your prone form.

Illumi pinned your body to the mattress in a frantic tangle of limbs and bruising kisses. His weight was searing, muscles rippling with tightly leashed intensity as he straddled you. You writhed helplessly beneath him, hands roaming over the grooved scarred planes of his back urgently.

Without preamble, Illumi captured your wrists in one large hand and slammed them above your head. His other hand tangled mercilessly in your hair, forcing your head back as he bared your throat to the onslaught of his teeth and tongue.

Between the harsh nips and sucking kisses, he rasped out in a low growl tinged with feral possession: "You're mine...have been since I claimed you from that cesspool."

A whimpering moan escaped your lips at the dark resonance of his words reverberating through you. Your limbs went pliant under their spell as Illumi asserted his dominance with deliberate rolls of his hips grinding his hardened cock against your core.

"The others aren't aware of what's mine," he rumbled with casual vehemence, releasing your wrists to impatiently rip your clothes away.

Soon you were laid bare before his smoldering gaze, trembling with heady arousal as Illumi feasted on the sight possessively. The calculated divesting of his own garments seemed to heighten the frenzied craving fogging the chamber.

As his nude form draped over you once more, he husked against the fevered skin of your neck with gravelly intensity: "That's why I keep you apart...hidden from prying eyes and undeserving hands..."

You shuddered full-body at the predatory promise laced in his tone. Illumi responded by capturing your lips in a searing, devouring kiss, seeming to savor your quiet sounds of desperation in the back of his throat. One hand anchored your hip in a bruising grip as he ground himself against your slick entrance with honed restraint.

"Since that first night bathing you in my sins..." he rumbled darkly, nosing along your jawline and inhaling your maddeningly tempting scent. "I've been consumed by this all-devouring need to have you unravel for me alone..."

Illumi's words dripped like dark honey into the hollows of your very being, setting every nerve ending ablaze. He captured your mouth once more, drinking in your needy, desperate moans as his tongue slid against yours languidly.

Your hips arched off the mattress in an unconscious bid for more friction, the head of his cock now poised at your entrance. Illumi released a low, rumbling groan, breaking the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"Say it," he growled, the guttural demand vibrating through you as he teased your dripping folds. "Let me hear you admit who owns you..."

You couldn't stop the keening cry that tumbled out of you at the sheer need throbbing through your veins. A sob wracked your frame as you surrendered to the exquisite torture, arching desperately beneath him.

"Please, Illumi...I'm yours, only yours," you gasped, fingers digging into the corded muscle of his back.

His answering growl was almost inhuman as his mouth crashed against yours once more, his tongue delving deep with unbridled hunger. In one smooth thrust, Illumi sank to the hilt, stretching and filling you completely.

You moaned into the kiss, trembling beneath the solid weight of his form as he began rutting into you in a relentless rhythm. It was all you could do to cling to him, your nails leaving crescent moons along his taut, scarred flesh as he pistoned his hips with growing fervor.

"That's it," he gritted out in a rasp, one hand tangling roughly in your hair as he held you firmly in place. "Let me see your pretty little face fall apart for me alone..."

The filthy praise elicited a shuddering moan from you, sending a new wave of heat blooming through your veins. Illumi's mouth captured yours again, his kiss ravenous and demanding as he fucked you harder and deeper.

The room was filled with the obscene sounds of skin on skin, mingling with the litany of breathless moans and gasps tumbling from your lips. You were completely unraveled for him, a mewling, panting mess beneath his expert ministrations.

"Something as beautiful as you… was never meant to be tarnished by another's touch," he grunted, the primal possessiveness of his words sending a surge of white-hot pleasure through your core. "You belong…only to me."

You could feel your impending release building, coiling tighter with each stroke of his cock buried deep inside you. Your nails raked down the hard planes of Illumi's back as his pace quickened, the bed creaking in time with his powerful thrusts.

"Cum for me," he rasped, the gravel-edged command sending you toppling over the edge.

You cried out as you came, waves of blissful ecstasy crashing over you in relentless pulses. Illumi fucked you through it, his rhythm stuttering as his own release approached. He groaned, the guttural sound vibrating against your skin as he found his own release, spilling inside you with a few final, erratic thrusts.

Your breathing slowed as the euphoric haze gradually lifted, Illumi's weight pinning you deliciously. He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the unexpected gesture making your chest ache.

"Mine," he whispered against your skin, his lips trailing over the pulse fluttering beneath the hollow of your throat.

You awoke slowly, surrounded by the musky warmth of tangled sheets and the lingering fog of satiated bliss. As awareness gradually filtered back in, you became acutely conscious of the male weight anchored against your back, skin searing everywhere your forms touched.

Carefully, you shifted onto your side to find Illumi already awake and observing you with heavy-lidded intensity. He was propped up on one elbow, raven hair tousled in artful disarray that somehow only enhanced his aura of dark, rugged beauty.

Those fathomless eyes of his seemed to roam possessively over the exposed canvas of your body, taking indulgent inventory of the fading lovebites and crescents from his grasp that now bloomed across your skin like lurid floral tributes.

"You're awake," he stated in that low, disarming rasp that somehow held multiple implications.

You managed a tremulous nod, mesmerized by the aristocratic slant of his features and the exquisite musculature that comprised his lean and powerful frame. The dim morning light sluiced him in a warm glow, accentuating each grooved indentation and ridgeline.

"Your wound has reopened," you murmured without thinking, entranced fingers straying to ghost along the inflamed gash marring his collarbone.

Illumi's gaze followed your perusal with banked intensity, clearly taking note of the concern etching your features. His hand rose to ensnare your wrist in an implacable grip before guiding your knuckles to brush over the seam of his parted lips.

"Then you will need to attend to me again," he stated with an indecipherable undercurrent as punctuated each word with an indulgent sweep of his tongue over your captive skin.

A shuddering breath escaped you at the molten flashes his ministrations ignited along your nerves. Illumi responded by dragging you flush against the sultriness of his bare chest until his viselike arms fully enveloped you in their corded strength.

"See to drawing a bath," he commanded in a rugged timbre that brokered no arguments, even as his lips trailed searing, openmouthed paths along the column of your throat.

"While you seem so eager to care for my...needs."

Those last words were a depraved rumble you felt thrumming through your very marrow. Any semblance of objection instantly dissolved into pliant, smoldering acquiescence at such undisguised desire.

With great effort, you managed to extricate yourself from the delirious haven of Illumi's embrace, pulling on his discarded white undershirt to seek out the adjacent washroom and begin running the steaming tub. You moved through the familiar routine of drawing a steaming bath for Illumi.

Soon the spacious tub was filled with steaming water perfumed by fragrant oils. You turned to find Illumi's imposing, battle-carved form prowling in behind you - a great Renaissance sculpture of clenched muscle and primal masculine power exuding dark covetous intent.

He stepped into the tub without preamble, powerful body submerging amidst the lapping ripples. Illumi held your gaze firmly as he settled back against the curved rim, a clear unspoken directive kindling between you.

Swallowing thickly, you reached for the plush cloth and fragrant bathing soaps, lathering until the lavender-scented lather frothed luxuriantly. With utmost care, you began sluicing the rich moisture over Illumi's exposed torso and shoulders.

He remained unmoving and silent throughout your reverent ministrations. Only the intense weight of his watchful stare and subtle shifts of powerful musculature beneath your administrations gave any indication he wasn't carved from stone.

As your attentions trailed lower down his abdomen, Illumi shifted his hips subtly to allow better access. Those sable eyes glinted with banked smolders, studying each minute reaction flickering across your features.

"Keep going," he rasped in a low gravelly timbre that pulsed straight through your rapidly thrumming heart.

Throat constricting around a shuddering inhale, you mutely complied - allowing the fragrant lather and purposeful sweeps of the washcloth to tease along Illumi's sculpted 'v' line and curly, unkempt pubes below the water's surface.

Illumi's intense regard remained unwavering even as you gradually skirted lower down those powerful muscles, movements growing more sensuous and tinged with unrestrained yearning. Inch by torturous inch, your hands ventured downwards, awaiting his dark approval with bated breath.

"Lower," he rumbled thickly, giving himself over to your ministrations with subtle bucks of his hips and languid reclines that only enhanced the eroticism of the act.

By the time you finally reached the base of his erection, you were trembling, skin feverish and flushed with desire. Illumi's eyes held a dark, primal gleam as he watched your hands roaming over the straining, veiny skin.

A low groan reverberated in the back of his throat, the sound shooting straight to your core. His hand suddenly shot out to clasp your wrist, guiding your motions along the swollen length in slow, deliberate strokes.

"You enjoy serving me," he rasped, watching your face intently as he fucked himself into your hand.

Illumi's other hand wrapped around your waist, effortlessly maneuvering you into the tub to straddle his lap. Your heart thundered at the suddenness, the scalding water sloshing dangerously near the rim.

Yet Illumi's commanding presence dominated the scene - the dark, smoldering depths of his gaze and the iron-barred muscles flexing beneath you as he continued thrusting his cock into your palm.

Your His shirt stuck to you like a second skin, transparent and revealing the hard peaks of your nipples. Illumi's eyes roved greedily over the sight, the hand gripping your waist sliding up to roughly pinch the hardened buds.

A sharp gasp tumbled from your lips at the sudden sting. You arched instinctively, seeking more friction even as Illumi's grip on your wrist tightened, keeping the pace of his cock moving into your hand languid and controlled.

"You look so sweet, so pure," he husked, rolling the stiff peak between his thumb and forefinger with calculated pressure.

"I'm going to ruin you..."

Your mind swam with dizzying heat as his words sank through you. A low whine escaped your lips as his cock throbbed in your palm, leaking precum and swelling with every thrust.

Illumi's hand tangled roughly in your hair, forcing your head back to expose the vulnerable curve of your neck. His lips latched onto the fluttering pulsepoint, biting and sucking a dark bruise into the tender flesh.

You moaned, arching into the sensation as his mouth trailed lower, teeth scraping over the swell of your breasts. Illumi's grip on your wrist eased, allowing you to move on your own volition now.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against your fevered skin as you continued stroking his cock with increasing fervor. You were utterly drunk on the sounds escaping his throat, the sensation of his cock throbbing in your palm, his musky scent enveloping you both.

Illumi's fingers tightened around your nipple, pinching and twisting until the deliciously sharp sting sent waves of heat crashing through you. His other hand drifted lower, trailing down the curve of your ass and sliding between the slick folds of your pussy.

"So wet," he rumbled against your breast, nipping and licking at the stiff peak as he slid a finger inside you.

You moaned, thighs tightening around his hips as he began pumping his finger in and out, the friction eliciting delicious sparks of pleasure. Illumi pulled you closer until your back was arched and your breasts were flush against his face.

He licked and sucked the swollen, aching tips, groaning against your skin as his fingers slipped out of you. The water sloshed wildly as you writhed atop him, shuffling closer until you felt his cock sliding between the slick folds of your pussy.

Illumi's hands gripped your waist, holding you still as he rubbed the leaking head against your entrance, teasing the sensitive flesh with a wicked glint in his eye. Your thighs quivered as you fought to stay still, his gaze holding you captive.

"Please," you whimpered, voice catching on a ragged moan as the swollen head nudged against your clit.

Illumi's grip tightened fractionally as he continued torturing you with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips. His cock slid against your folds, teasing the sensitive flesh and sending jolts of electricity up your spine.

The water lapped dangerously close to the lip of the tub as you rocked into him, desperately seeking more friction. Illumi's dark eyes watched you intently, drinking in the sight of your flushed, trembling body.

His hands slid down to grip the supple curves of your ass, guiding your hips into a slow, steady rhythm that had his cock sliding between the slick folds of your pussy.

You gasped as the head caught against your entrance, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. Illumi's eyes locked with yours, dark and intense as he guided your hips down, letting the head slide inside you.

You shuddered at the stretch, thighs clenching around his waist as he sank deeper. Illumi's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass, holding you still as his cock buried itself in the tight heat of your pussy.

A moan escaped you as he filled you, the stretch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. Illumi's hands gripped your hips, guiding you into a slow, steady rhythm as he thrust up into you.

Your hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, nails digging into the taut muscle as you rode him. The water lapped around your hips, adding an extra layer of sensation as the slick friction built.

You rocked into him, taking him deeper with each roll of your hips. His hands roamed over your skin, fingers digging into the supple flesh of your ass and pulling you closer.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the room filling with the sound of wet skin on skin and water sloshing against the side of the tub.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping the thick strands and tugging his head back. You leaned down to capture his lips in a heated kiss, tongues sliding against each other as you rolled your hips, taking his cock deeper.

Illumi's grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down onto him as he thrust up into you. He fucked you hard and fast, the sound of your bodies meeting echoing off the tiled walls.

You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as you rocked into him, riding the wave of pleasure that washed over you with each deep stroke. Your muscles tightened around him, the sensation of him filling you over and over driving you higher and higher.

Illumi's grip on your ass tightened, pulling you down harder onto him, fucking you with abandon. The sound of the water splashing against the sides of the tub was almost drowned out by the sounds of your moans and gasps as you writhed in his grasp.

You felt yourself reaching the edge, the waves of pleasure building with each stroke until you couldn't hold back any longer. You came with a cry, muscles clenching around his cock as the waves crashed over you.

Illumi groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he fucked you through your orgasm, drawing out the pleasure until you were trembling and breathless. He followed soon after, spilling inside you with a shuddering moan.

You slumped against him, muscles weak and shaking from the force of your orgasm. He held you close, hands running over your back and legs, soothing the trembling aftershocks.

The water lapped around you as you both caught your breath, the tension slowly ebbing away. Illumi's hands cupped your ass, his fingers tracing over the soft curves.

"Next," he murmured against the flushed skin of your neck, pressing a kiss to the mark he'd left. "I’ll make you suck me off while you help me dress."

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Say it Dirty - An Alfie Solomons/Reader One Shot Story.

For my babes @cillmequick and @zablife. Enjoy!

Words - 1,467

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Alfie. One could never use the word tall to describe the gangster rum distiller of Camden town, but suffice to say, he is big. He takes up space. He has presence. Alfie is so wide in both physical width and the enormity of his personality, he fills whatever room he happens to be within.  

Everything about Alfie is imposing. That is why you fell for him in the first place. What gets your blood tingling with desire the most, though... 

“Next lad!”  

Oh, that enormous voice. He doesn’t shout often, but when he does, it sends your knees to jelly.  

“Next lad!” 

He’s handing out the weekly wages, the precise count out of pounds, shillings and pence into a small paper envelope, handing them to each of his employees for their, ahem, “baking” endeavours. The smell of the rum within the large casks fills your nose as you walk past them down in the dingy distillery, moving past the line and entering Alfie’s office.  

“Bear with me, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even need to look up from his desk to know you’ve arrived. He can smell the sweet notes of your perfume in a sea of rum and sweaty men a mile off. “Just gotta get these fellas paid, innit.”  

You perch on the edge of his desk, his hand moving to stroke your thigh fleetingly. “Next lad!” God, you’ll melt off the edge of the desk if you’re not careful. “Is there a fuckin’ reason you’re gorping, boy?”  

“Um, n-no, Mr. Solomons.”  

Alfie lowers his spectacles, raising his eyebrows. “You seriously comin’ in here for your pay, and giving me missus the once over with your beady little eyes while you’re here, eh? Nah, son. Off you fuck, while you still have them legs to carry ya. Just know, though. If I ever see you lookin’ at her like that again, yeah, it’ll be the last fuckin’ time you have eyes, mate.”  

The young man takes his wages with a stiff gulp. “S-s-sorry, Mr. Solomons.”  

“Ain’t me you was lookin’ at like a slab of meat.” He folds his arms, jerking his head in your direction, a smile spreading beneath his beard. “Apology should be directed at me wife, really.” 

“I apologise, Mrs. Solomons.” He’s steadier when talking to you, wringing his cap between his hands nervously all the same.  

Alfie studies you, watching you nod. “Alright, fuck off outta here. Next lad!” He scurries from the office, your husband continuing to hand out each wage envelope and mark it off with a pencil strike in the ledger. With the last lad paid, he stands, moving before you.  

“Now, how about I take my little turtle dove out for a bit of nosh, yeah?” Well, that’s the sole reason you came to meet him from work, after all. He goes for a quick wash and to change his shirt before you leave, yet when he returns, he finds you not quite as ready to leave as he is.  

The double take at seeing you sitting atop his desk naked is priceless, eyes touring your bare curves with much interest. “My darlin’, I dunno what kind of fuckin’ restaurant you think we’re going to, right, but it ain’t the kind where the customers sit about naked.”  

“Can’t help it,” you purr, pulling him close, hands smoothing over his fresh shirt. “See it’s when you raise your voice, Alfie, when you get defensive of me, too. It does things to me, that voice of yours.”  

He looks quietly thrilled at that. You don’t quite know how one can raise an eyebrow with cocky intent, but Alfie nails it every time. “Yeah, that right, love? You like the sound of my voice? Why don’t you sit on my cock while I talk to you, then?” 

Grasping his shirt, you pull him close. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, Alf.”  

Your lips meet in a slow tempest, all heat and honey, his hands beginning to glide where his eyes have already roamed, touring your bare flesh keenly. When his mouth follows, you whimper, each kiss sinking into your skin, the soft of his beard coaxing tickles over your flesh. Hot hands adorned in cool gold knead at your thighs, fingers slipping between.  

The sweet sting of him toying with your clit radiates, little pricks of pleasure trickling down your spine, puddling at those clever fingers, his teeth sharp at your neck. “Always did love my hands, didn’t ya, dove?”  

You hum in appreciative response against his tongue, mouths locked, those fingers you do indeed love so much thrusting within. He opens you, pushing greedily, his raspy chuckle low and self-satisfied at each little mewl that pours from your mouth like wine, your cunt clenching around each rotation as he roots those thick digits, so inordinately deep.  

“Fuck, get in the chair,” you pant, hands moving to slide his braces down, undoing his trousers. “I need to ride you. Now.” 

He chuckles, his thumb rolling over your clit sending sparks to skitter wildly. “Ain’t half a demanding little mare tonight, aint’cha?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, Alfie letting his trousers and undergarments fall to pool at his ankles, sitting down in the chair and guiding you astride him. “But then I always did know what’s good for me.” Taking him, you squeeze the thick of his rigidity, pushing him to your glistening opening and dropping down until you’re full.  

You can feel every inch of him pressing your soft walls, thick and heavy, his hand weaving into your hair and pulling until you arch for him, bending like a crescent moon. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, look at that body bow for me. Can’t wait to watch these pretty little tits bounce while you ride me, darlin’.”  

His mouth devours you, nipples sucked and bitten, his free hand grasping your hip as you begin to roll against him, his girth sending sensations to flutter up your spine, fizzing like champagne bubbles, the hint of teeth upon the peak of your nipple sending glimmers to join them. “Ain’t even half started properly yet, and this sweet little cunt is like a fuckin’ lake. Yeah, look at you. So fucking pretty for me, ain’t ya? So pretty and sweet, split open on me.”  

His words mist hot beneath your skin, rising like steam, the torrent of seductive filth unabating. “Think I could have you like this on me for hours, and I wouldn’t get tired of watching you gripping tight on my cock. And you would, wouldn’t ya? Yeah, you’d keep giving, my beautiful, cock hungry little doe.”  

His thumb stretches, and it sends a rain of pleasure pelting through you when he brings it to your clit, circling, your bundle twitching against the stroke, your toes gripping on the floorboards beneath as you begin to ride him with more determination. “That’s it, sweet. Show me how much you love this cock.”  

The moan seeps from your lips, sweet and slow, like thick syrup, the clasp of your cunt tight upon him, the sound of him punching into the very wet of you lewd, mixing with the slap of your arse smacking hard against his solid thighs. It’s a symphony of utter sin, his groans adding delicious baritone, your tits bouncing, his hands moving to clutch them as his tongue swipes your cleavage.  

His touch has lightning forking from nerve to nerve, your ministrations greedy in desperate need to come around him, wet his cock further with the dew of your orgasm, your hands fisting tight in his hair, a shift of his hips sending him deeper into the flutter of your cunt.  

You sob his name, and he pushes even deeper, so heavy and overwhelming within you. “Come on, my beautiful little darlin’. Come pretty for me on this cock.”  

Oh, how you do, the pleasure burning neon through your nerves, a sky of colours painted over you as it topples you completely. The scream it pulls from you has him twitching, and he becomes caught in the tide of it, cock pressed filthily deep into the rhythmic clasping of you, spilling hard, everything tense undoing and softening to fluid bliss. You both swim in it, adrift on the endless ocean, panting against one another.  

“Fuck, that worked up a right appetite,” he finally breaths, kissing your neck as you roll your eyes. 

“Do you ever cease thinking about your stomach?” 

He chuckles, low and dirty. “Yeah. I often think about how good me wifey feels when she fucks me like she just did. And you can count on it, treacle, that I’ll be thinkin’ about it for the rest of the night an’ all.” 

The way he keeps stealing heated glances at you all the way through dinner, you’re left in little doubt of that, too.  

[cameronspecial]

What if Drew meets the actress!reader' parents and older brother at a family dinner, he would be graciously greeted by their kindness of her family, especially her mother who seems to have a little crush on him. Her father will tell all the funny anecdotes of his childhood and her brother who teases them about marriage of them 😏😅 It's rather embarrassing for her but it's a good night for Drew

Plz can u doing that !?

The Embarrassing Meet

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Masterlist

Y/N has brought home boyfriends since she got famous. Other Actors. Authors. Musicians. Even sons of famous people. However, she hasn’t been as nervous about bringing them home as she was about bringing Drew home. She is incredibly in love with him and family meetings always seem to chase her boyfriends away. Not only are they embarrassing for her, but they also make her boyfriends realize that her home life is not as glamorous as they want it to be. Drew holds the passenger’s side door open for her. She smiles at him, dropping it once she sees her family at the open front door already. “Oh my goodness, look how handsome he is. And he is tall too. He could get all the stuff on the high shelves for us and we could have tall grandchildren, Jeremy,” her mother gushes. The older Y/L/N woman comes running to hug the new arrivals. Drew is more than happy to receive it while Y/N crosses her arms at her mom. “We literally just got here, Mom. Do you have to lay it on so thick?” she asks. Drew smiles at Emily, “It’s okay, Y/N/N. I’m honestly flattered that I’m already making a good impression and I would love to grab anything you need, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Emily’s face warms up and she hits Drew’s bicep playfully. “Please, call me Emily. We have a shelf that needs hanging if you are okay with being put to work,” her mom offers. “I would be more than glad to help out with that.”

———

Drew and Jeremy stand in front of the wall. The shorter of the two reaches up high with his hands to approximate how high they want the shelf. Y/N sits on the sofa with her mother while her brother makes dinner, watching the two men do the work. Her father tries to lift the heavy shelf they are going to put up, but he freezes and holds his hand to his lower back. Drew holds a hand out to the older man and takes the slab of wood from him. “I’ve got it, Jeremy. I see the nice woodwork you have on the other shelves. Is that what this shelf is for?” Drew questions, using the pencil to mark where he needs to put the screws. Jeremy beams and picks up one of his pieces. He shows drew the wooden duck, “Yes. I’ve been doing it since I was in high school. My best subject was wood shop. I made this duck for Y/N/N when she was little. She would refuse to take a bath unless it was beside her. If it wasn’t near the tub near bath time, then she would run around the house naked looking for it.” “Ugh, Dad! Do you have to tell that story? It’s so awkward,” Y/N complains, burying her head in a pillow. Drew chuckles and takes the duck into his hand, “What are you talking about? I think it’s an adorable story. Might have to make you another duck if it that’s how you react without one. Plus, I would love to spend more time with your dad while he teaches me.” Drew’s laughter increases as he catches the pillow that is whipped at his head.

———

Jeremy and Emily stay at the front door to wave the couple off whilst Gideon follows his sister and Drew to the car. He leans against the open car window to formally say goodbye. “Okay, so I expect a wedding invitation within a year. You got me, Starkey? You are too good for this family to let go of,” Gideon orders with a finger pointed at the male in the driver’s seat. Drew glances at Y/N with a grin before looking at Gideon, “I got you. I would be crazy to let your sister go.” Gideon slaps the car door in satisfaction. “Good. I knew I liked you for a reason. Okay, bye you two. Drive safe.” He straightens up with a wave and steps back so Drew can drive off. Y/N sinks lower into the seat at the sound of her family very loudly wishing them goodbye one more time from outside of her car. “I hated that so much. I didn’t know I had so many embarrassing childhood stories.” Drew chortles, “What are you talking about? I loved it. I think I made a great impression with my future in-laws. I can’t wait to see them again.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[thewertsearch]

And now we have to deal with this motherfucker.

It’s probable that Scratch knew things would play out like this, which means this message was always intended for Karkat.

...it's probable that that's the case, but there's always a slight possibility that we're in one of his dark pockets. If so, then Karkat wasn't supposed to see this message, and might be about to learn something Scratch doesn't want him to know.

Mr. Vantas.

Dang it.

I'm delivering this message through the console of one of my numerous unwitting proteges to give you a word of advice, and then you will not hear from me again.

Characteristically unhelpful - and in fact, it might not refer to either of Eridan's victims. We still have Tavros's corpse to deal with, and I'm sure there'll be more bodies hitting the floor before the day is out.

All of the bodies in the room remain as they were. There is clearly nothing to be concerned about whatsoever.

Feferi has an eldritch connection through the Horrorterrrors, and they could probably pull some dark magical shenanigans to get her body moving again. I think that's unlikely, though, since Feferi's ghost is active in the Dream Bubbles, and I don't think she'd actually want to be revived. After all, she's go a job to do.

I'm still convinced that Kanaya's coming back, but it's hardly going to happen while our back is turned. We're out of Kernelsprites, so she can't be prototyped - and we can't use her Dream Moon Slab, if it even exists, because Prospit's been destroyed by Jack.

Frankly, I can't think of a single realistic way to revive her short of time travel, and that's not a road we want to go down. I'm really trying not to think about what that might mean.

I guess that leaves Tavros.

There's definitely something going on with him that we don't understand. He was about to smooch Vriska before she stopped him, and the Breath symbolism surrounding the act makes me think it was more than just a typical Dream Self revival kiss. He has a hidden power, and that power seems to kick in when someone's dying.

Could Tavros be a little less dead than we've been led to believe? It's possible - his arc doesn't scan as complete to me. He'd only obtained the merest shred of confidence before Vriska brought him fatally down to earth, and I think there are still many interesting places you could take his character.

CG: THERE YOU ARE, YOU HAD ME WORRIED DUDE […] CG: QUIT THE BULLSHIT PARTYCLOWN ANTICS AND GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE. […] TC: shut up. CG: WHAT… TC: I SAID SHUT THE MOTHERFUCK UP, MOTHERFUCKER. TC: honk honk honk :o)

Gamzee’s rocking a new quirk. He’s still swapping cases, but they’re alternating every message rather than every character, as though his mind is less scrambled than it used to be.

Could this be how he talks when he's off the slime? He already seems more aware than before, and his grumpiness evokes a hangover - but he's honking more than he used to, which is the opposite of what I'd expect if he was sober.

CG: SERIOUSLY, GET BACK HERE NOW, AND HAVE A SLIME PIE TO RELAX OR SOMETHING. TC: SLIME? TC: there is no more slime, brother. TC: AND ANYWAY. TC: shit was motherfuckin poison, didn't you know?

Yup. It looks like Gamzee’s gone cold featherbeast.

It's not a great time for this to happen, but it's not like we can stop it now. I highly doubt Gamzee was forward-thinking enough to reproduce his pies through alchemy, and things are a little too tense right now to try getting clever with an Appearifier. For better or worse, his supply has dried up for the foreseeable future.

So now, for the first time, we're interacting with a Gamzee who isn't out of his mind on soporifics. His shift in personality is already pretty drastic, and I'm interested in seeing what the real Gamzee is like.

[covetyou]

in honour of the Pedro Party, I sent @goodwithcheese this ask about who would get pantsless first and who stays pantsed until the end of the party. between that, and a particular thought about party hats (and Mr. Pedro "I hate belts" Pascal), I thought it was a good idea for Dieter and his PA to make an appearance at this party. enjoy!

do it like Madonna

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Mature (18+ only!) warnings: no smut. nudity. mention of Dieter Bravo's dick and balls. drug and alcohol use/refrence, improper use of party hats. cameos from Javi G, Oberyn, and Santos (all the P-Boys are there!) word count: 801 summary: Being Dieter Bravo's plus one to a party isn't always all it's cracked up to be, and sometimes, just sometimes, it puts a smile on your face anyway.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

It all starts when Dieter Bravo walks into the party with you, his long suffering assistant. He'd been grumbling the whole ride here about how uncomfortable he was, and he hadn't stopped now that you'd stepped through the door and said hello to a few people before making your way to the empty kitchen to grab drinks.

You barely have a drink in hand when an all too familiar jingle reaches your ears and, like every time before it, you whip around to see Dieter standing there, fiddling with his belt buckle and fighting it through the loops of his pants.

"Dee, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he grumbles.

"This is a nice party, you can't go taking shit off. It's not that kind of party."

"I know, but you made me wear a belt. I fuckin' hate belts."

"Because your pants were falling down, Dee."

"So," he grumbles again, only just managing to whip the belt off before you can grab him, slapping it down on the counter not a second later before double fisting two drinks and leaving you stood there in the kitchen staring after him.

His pants are already sagging at the ass by the time he walks out onto the patio, his arms spread wide, drinks sloshing over onto the slab below, as people wrap themselves around him in warm greeting, before sipping from one cup and then the other.

Your own drink will have to wait. You have a belt to put back in the car and a menace of a man to keep an eye on for the rest of the night.

Except, he's nowhere to be seen when you get back inside from stashing his belt. You check the pool and just about every room, but you have a sneaking suspicion he's intentionally avoiding you.

It's a suspicion that's confirmed when you find his shoes and pants hidden in the corner of the office.

Even moreso when you find his shirt tucked behind a sofa cushion.

Dread runs through you at the thought of all the NDAs you'll have to get signed when you find his boxer shorts in the punch bowl, fishing them out only to throw them - still fruity - onto the pile of Dieter's clothes in the back of your car.

And then, twenty minutes later, you see him.

Completely naked, obviously.

Kind of.

It is a party after all.

And what's a party without party hats. It seems Dieter doesn't think it'd be much of a party at all, because he's wearing four. One is exactly where you'd expect it - directly on top of his head with the elastic pinching under his chin.

From there, it just gets worse the further down his body you look.

He has two hats strapped to his chest, each pointing a different direction even has he tries to reposition them over his nipples. And the fourth hat... well, he's somehow managed to stuff his cock and balls into the cone of the fourth hat, because at the very least you can't see anything hanging out or dangling in the sight of anyone who shouldn't be seeing it.

It's miraculous really. Even in his nudity, he's somehow managed to be modest about it.

He's grinning at you as you approach him, that giddy, too happy, look on his face that he always gives you when he's too drunk or high to care about actively pissing you off.

"Do I look like Madonna," he slurs, sticking out his pointy chest.

"Dieter, why are you wearing four party hats and not your clothes," you ask, hoping against hope the people coming out of the house haven't seen him and you can tidy this all up before they start to stare.

"Five."

"What?"

"Five party hats," he says, giving you a twirl. There you see the fifth hat, strapped against his ass with the thin elastic, looking exactly like a-

"It's a tail," he says with a giggle. "I have a tail."

And with a dozy smile his gaze trails off and lights up just as a very stoned, but very beautiful, Spaniard comes walking out of the house in his own set of party hats, followed by a man wearing nothing at all, eating from a plate of berries, and another in the tiniest, tightest Speedo you've ever seen. And, beyond that, you see a few more bare asses, and even more bare chests inside, mingling with fully clothed bodies that don't seem to care too much that your employer is comparing party hat sizes with his new friend.

You'll allow it this time, you suppose, taking a tepid sip of the same drink you've been nursing for hours, watching Dieter run off back inside, his party hat tail shaking with every jiggle of his ass. tagging my Pedro Party pals - who do you think would be pantsed vs. pantless? @ghotifishreads @sp00kymulderr @missredherring @ozarkthedog @perotovar

@undercoverpena @schnarfer @secretelephanttattoo @hellfire-state-of-mind @readingiskeepingmegoing

[imaginebeingmentallystable]

Academy!Coryo x reader Warnings: swearing, now that i think of it slightly ooc Coryo but its Academy era so idk, use of y/n

dividers by @saradika

Pure. If you had to choose one word to describe Coriolanus Snow, that would be it. The boy was basically a slab of untainted, white stone brought to life. Clean cut, not a speck on his record, and god forbid his grades be anything less than frustratingly perfect. It was something that infuriated you constantly.

How could someone possibly have absolutely no visible weakness?

Sometimes it seemed even basic needs such as sleep were unnecessary for your blonde classmate while you, on the other hand, relied on disarranged nights of frantic muttering and rustling paper to maintain your top grades. Only, of course, to spend the next few hours behind a deck having your sanity and patience stripped away by the object of your hatred/affection/whatever those heated stares every once in a while were.

Either way, the back and forth cycle was driving you insane! You were one step away from screaming for it to just-

“Miss Fremont. Would you like to explain to me what is so interesting about Mr. Snow that it is physically impossible for you to pay attention to the lesson?”

Red crept onto your cheeks as you sank slightly in your seat. Your classmates whispered and giggled around you and Mr. Snow was clearly displaying a mocking smirk when you spoke.

“Nothing, Sir.”

~

Later, after you’d rushed from your classroom, through the library and into the little study room you sat in the corner of. You buried  your head in your knees.

How embarrassing was it that you were caught staring at that smug little shit, and by your teacher no less! Not even a classmate, who might have let it slide-

Oh fuck.

You groaned, curling into yourself further. You were caught staring at Coriolanus Snow, the annoying but pretty boy Clemmie had shipped you with from the beginning, your sworn rival. She was never letting you hear the end of this and you suspected neither was Coriolanus.

The soft thump of your head hitting the wall was amplified in the small space. Surely, you reasoned, snatching the Plinth Prize from under Coriolanus’s attractive nose would wipe that smirk off clean off of his face. And for that to happen you would have to get up, pull yourself together and study until your hands shook and your eyes burned. 

Not necessarily in that order.

This time, you’d end up on top.

~ 

Coriolanus found you spread out on the floor, almost buried in pages upon pages of notes and examples and resources. He had, like you, come to the library to study, but all thoughts of classwork were put aside when he saw you, sleeping in his usual study spot. If he was entirely truthful, he didn’t think you could make a face that peaceful. Coriolanus knelt down next to you and brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“Time to get up, sweetheart.”

You swatted his hand away sleepily, mumbling incoherently.

“Y/n you’re drooling on your notes.”

No response.

He sighed, already losing his patience. He’d try one last time, he promised himself, and then he’d leave and find another place to work. 

“Y/n, love, you have to get up now. Can’t let you lose to me too easily next week, now can we?” 

This time he gave you a little shake, finally getting through your sleep deprived haze. You jolted back, flustered for a moment.

“Co-coriolanus, what- Why are you here?”

He waited until you were done dusting yourself off before replying.

“I realise you might not know this, but some people like to come here to actually study.”

You scoffed and pushed him towards the door.

“I was doing just that before you interrupted me-” He raised an eyebrow, “-so leave me alone.”

The door slammed in his face.

~ 

Now, you think he’d gotten the message. But the next evening, right after your last class for the day, he was back, like a recurring nightmare. Being seen in this state, your hair messy and eyebags dark, might have irritated you had you not been cramming for two final exams and an assignment that was due the next morning.

"What part of leave me alone was confusing for you, Snow, because I would be happy to explain it to you after I finish this. I'm busy. get out." You say from the desk, exhaustion evident in your tone.

Clearly, you had no patience left for anything, let alone him.

Coriolanus, despite having almost the same workload as you, seemed entirely unbothered by this.

Perfect bastard with his perfect hair and his stupid, perfect smile. Exactly the money he was displaying right now, actually, as he unpacked his notes next to yours.

"Move over sweetheart-"

"Don't," You growled, pausing your work, "Call me that, sweetheart."

He sat down across from you and began writing in that beautiful handwriting. "Whatever you say... Darling."

You really wanted to slap him sometimes.

A/N: this is my first time writing for Coryo so if someone finds this please tell me what you think <3

[soubi122]

Funeral

This is a oneshot that was collecting dust in my drafts and I finally managed to finish it - ft kakucho.

Warnings: Domestic violence, smut, pregnancy, cheating, mentions of death, slight dark content, alcohol, language, slight angst and fluff.

MDNR - MINORS, respectfully, GO AWAY.

You never thought about being this happy at a funeral. Past funerals attended were full of grief and sorrow. The person who left the earth would be someone whom you'd dearly loved or were close with, someone who you felt was taken too soon. But this was different, the funeral taking place today was for none other than your husband. What you thought would be the best thing in your life turned out to be a nightmare. 

At the funeral many people flooded the marble floors, paying their respects to the dearly departed. His large portrait was on a stand surrounded by white and yellow chrysanthemums. The sight of these flowers was too pure for the vile being that was being honored today. Strangers were coming up to you and bowing - giving their condolences for your loss. They placed small envelopes in a box, a red and gold box that you wanted to burn. He deserved none of the generosity offered today. 

The black veil that covered your face felt like a mask, obscuring your features to avoid people gauging your reactions or grief, it also hid the ugly bruises and swollen eyes. For hours you've been sitting in that cushion and in pain. Your ribs were aching, the throbbing in your head wouldn't stop, the taste of metal on your tongue was driving you mad. As the funeral was winding down, the director approached you with a warm smile, years of practice and empathy made this process easy for them. “Mrs. (L/N)? We're at the last 10 minutes - we will begin escorting the guests out.” You nodded and were about to get up and leave but a tall figure approached you. Oh god, please… no more 'sorry for loss', 'your husband was a great man' lines. You think to yourself as you look up and notice the male's features. Raven hair, a scar that ran across the right side of his face to the left eye - despite his threatening appearance, the look in his eyes was sincere. 

Remembering him as a recent acquaintance of your husband, you knew they were coming to ask about his will. Business is business after all, it will keep going even when you are laying on a metal slab or are 6ft underground. “(Y/N), I'm very sorry for your loss.”  His stern but gentle tone caught you off guard. As you were beginning to bow, he spoke again - “We will need to speak regarding your husband's affairs and assets.” Here we go…the ever looming threat of his wealth was barreling towards you already and his ashes have yet to be scattered into the wind. The vultures were ready. “His attorney will be reading the will tomorrow - I'm sure he outlined what is to be done with his assets.” The raven haired man said nothing more and bowed, taking his leave. Finally, this act was over. 

You made your way to the penthouse that you were forced to call home but now that he was gone, you welcomed the emptiness that awaited you. Kicking off your heels, you exhaled a sigh of relief and slid down to the floor - barely noticing the figure that emerged from the dark corner of your kitchen. Only when you heard the sound of a click did you notice the shadow. You began to put your hands up and stare into the dark corner, waiting for the figure to emerge. “Sorry to do this during your time of grief, but this is urgent.” The same scarred man approached you, he had a gun in hand, loaded and pointed in your direction. 

Soon more figures emerged from the dark corners of your home. How the hell did they get past security? A knot began to form in your throat as the man tilted his head, pointing towards the kitchen island and telling you to take a seat without words. You got on your feet and made your way towards the island, silently taking a seat with your hands still up. The final figure that emerged was that of a shorter male with silver hair and eyes that looked like they haven't had a good night's rest in months. The dark circles became even more prominent by the dimmed overhead lights in your kitchen. “You can put your hands down, dollface.” One of the many men spoke, his tone was that of a psychopath - to avoid invoking anyone's wrath, you put your hands down on the counter. “Your husband's assets belong to us - at tomorrow's reading, you will relinquish them without any opposition.” A third voice said and his figure stepped into the dim light. He too had silver hair but his was long and he had eyes like a feral cat. A light chuckle escapes your lips as you reach for your coat pocket. In an instant your head was pinned against the counter, making you grunt and a gun was pressed against the back of your skull. “Don't even try, gorgeous…” Long slender fingers reached for the hand that held the metal object, prying it from your hold. “It's a cigarette box…” You say quietly without moving or resisting. 

With a nod, the shorter man gave permission for them to remove the gun, allowing you to lift your head from the counter. “We will have someone accompany you to tomorrow's reading…as a safety precaution - wouldn't want you to make a break for it.” Your silence spoke volumes to them. “We can also just make you hand everything over without the attorney present.” Another voice said from behind you, his tone was much softer than the one who pinned you down. Just what the hell did your husband get into? How did they know where you lived? The only thing you could do is nod. “Kakucho, you and these three will stay with her until tomorrow's reading. Takeomi and Mochizuki will bring you some spare clothing in the morning.” The man who you assumed was Kakucho nodded. Were they really planning to spend the night here? Or did they have other plans in mind? Did they want to break you more than your husband already did? You looked at the man with the short silver hair, his eyes were empty, bare and cold. Though the veil covered your face and hid your expression, he saw right through it - the submission and fear. “They won't touch you unless you give them a reason to…” His words of reassurance did just the opposite. 

Once the rest of the men left your penthouse, the others that remained began to make themselves at home and turned on the lights. Turning to face them, you noticed that they were all dressed in suits, had wildly colored hair and two of them had neck tattoos. The more ‘normal’ looking one was the raven haired man, with the exception of his facial scar. “So, dollface…you're probably wondering what your dear ol' husband did in order for us to be here…” The male with the psychopathic tone spoke, the two diamond shaped scars on the corners of his mouth curved as he smiled wickedly at you. Never have you seen such beautiful crystal eyes on such a sinister looking man. “You're scaring her Sanzu, she'll be sleeping with an eye open now thanks to you.” The coy and playful tone of the tallest male made you look in his direction. He had clean cut short purple tresses, the neck tattoo robbed your attention from his lavender eyes and handsome smirk. If you were to stand in front of him, you were sure to get top shelf vertigo. “Mikey said not to touch her.” The third male spoke, he had almost a matching hair color to the taller man but in mullet form, he too bore a neck tattoo - wait…that hanafuda design…it can't be! Alarm bells started going off in your head, you've seen the news, heard the rumors and seen first hand at what Bonten is capable of. That life of peace that you thought you were going to have? Well it just went up in smoke. These men were probably going to torture you, rape you or throw you in a brothel to pay off whatever your husband owed them. 

It felt like your chest was about to burst, the anxiety was ravaging your nerves and mind. The shortness of breath and trembling started, when the raven haired man noticed, you were on the verge of passing out. He caught you right before the back of your head met the floor. “Hey! What's wrong?” He asked as you began to have a panic attack. A sharp pain in your chest was making it difficult to breathe or even speak. “Get her some water!” He ordered one of the others as he sat across from you on the floor. The others began bickering, yelling at each other over who scared you. There was too much noise. “I'm going to slowly remove your veil, ok? I'm not gonna hurt you.” His hands gently reached out to you and you screwed your eyes shut. Don't look at me, please…! The voice inside your head screamed, your body was too in shock to move away from him. When he removed the veil, they all went silent. “…fuck, we didn't know.” You could hear one of them say. 

All four men flinched for a split second, recalling when they slammed your head against the counter. The purple and faded yellow bruises on your face and busted lip were staring at them dead in the face. The veil wasn't so that people wouldn't see your puffy crying eyes, it was to hide the pain and evidence of domestic violence.

The silence was overwhelming, making you panic even more - your breathing struggled again, snapping them out of their daze. You felt a pair of hands intertwining themselves with yours. Despite being inside, your hands felt like ice - the warmth of his hands made you feel alive. “I need you to try and take a deep breath. Focus on my voice, squeeze my hand if you understand.” Kakucho's soft and honeyed tone traveled through your ear canal and went straight to your chest. There was a soothing bass in his voice that made you follow his directions. 

Slow and steady you began to take deep breaths, one light squeeze signaled your understanding. A second voice was now in your ear, gently he titled your head in his direction. “Slowly open your eyes and focus on me…what color are my eyes?”  When you opened your eyes, you were met with a pair of lavender orbs and a tender gaze. “T-They're…beautiful.”  You managed to stutter out, his eyes matched the taller male - were they siblings? Your comment made him smirk softly, usually when people stare into his eyes they see death. “Rindou, I think she likes you…” The taller male whispered as he noticed the slight blush on your face. Finally, you were beginning to relax and breathe normally. Who would have known that the world's most dangerous men could soothe your soul? “Here, take small sips at a time.” The man with the diamond shaped scars said to you and handed you a small glass of water. Little by little, you were able to think straight without panic or anxiety. “So you can call us by our names and trust us - my name is Ran, this is my brother Rindou.” The tall male said. “The knucklehead you see over there with the pink hair is Sanzu and finally, in front of you, you have Kakucho.” Their introduction was not needed but worthy of making you feel a little at ease. 

Kakucho released your hand and helped you get on your feet. “Please, get some rest - we need to be on time for tomorrow’s reading.” That's right, these men stated that everything your husband owned was theirs. The question slipped your tongue when you opened your mouth, “Will I be set free or sold tomorrow?” Ran stepped closer and cupped your bruised cheek, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “That's not for us to decide.” Depending on what Bonten's king says, he will ultimately determine your fate - even after his death, your husband is still finding ways to break you. 

With your head hung low you made your way to your room. “Keep the door open, dollface.” Sanzu said as he sat on the Burrow couches and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. It made your eye twitch, your husband would have made you sit on the floor if that were you. Despite being at home, you had to be perfect, primed and ready for anything. To have such freedom and fearless nature, you envied it. 

It was useless to try and protest keeping the door open. Walking into your bedroom, you began to lay out clean clothing - the day was long, you needed the comfort of warm water to relieve the ache in your ribs, the aches on your legs and arms. Once you had everything ready, you picked up your bathrobe and went to the bathroom - quietly closing the bathroom door. You took a long hard look at yourself in the mirror, analyzing the bruises on your face, the marks across your neck and the redness in your eyes, it was over. Your life was over before it even began. That freedom you were hoping to have was now dependent on someone else. 

After filling the tub you began to slowly shed the clothing that clung to your figure. You had hairline fractures that were making it impossible to stay still during the funeral. The bruises extended down to your hips and thighs. Something no else would see. After showering you settle in the bathtub, gently laid back and stare at the ceiling and wonder if you should even continue to walk this earth…

Several minutes of staring into space, the door to your bathroom opens and in walks Kakucho. His calm demeanor was rather comforting - you were used to seeing your husband walk through that door with a scowl on his face or worse, a liquor bottle in his hands. “I’m not trying to drown myself if that’s what you’re thinking.” You say while slowly sitting up. You were surprised that they gave you this much privacy knowing that you could have called the cops or signal for help. Unfortunately, you didn’t trust the cops. That dearly beloved husband that departed this earth always had his way anytime you or someone else would call the cops. They would ask questions but your husband would pull them to the side and slip a small stack of bills in their pockets to keep them quiet. As soon as they would leave, he’d continue where he’d left off. Days would go by where you couldn’t even walk or let alone stand due to the pain. 

“Please be ready by 8:00 tomorrow, the reading is at 10:00...” He says and hands you a towel. Guessing by how they are looming over you like this, they wanted to make sure you’d be able to attend tomorrow’s reading. He was about to walk away but you pulled his sleeve and stopped him. “I need help.” You spoke meekly and avoided his eyes, as much as you didn't want to ask - you needed his help. “Oh…I won't look.” He said, closing his eyes and turned the other way as he extended his arms for you to reach out and grab. Sucking in a deep breath you braced yourself for the next painful seconds of your life. Kakucho could hear you struggle and grunt as you were struggling to get up. It was exciting to him, but he refused to indulge. With his eyes still closed, he spoke - “Your face isn't the only thing bruised, is it?” Usually they don't pry into other people's affairs but this was different. Gathering information was his specialty, but your docile nature drew him in. 

Kakucho felt compelled to at least leave you with something to take care of yourself with. Despite Bonten's reputation and crude nature there was still some sort of kindness in their subconscious. “My late husband would beat me almost everyday if something wasn't up to his standard.”  You said while wrapping yourself in a bathrobe. Maybe, just maybe they'd have a little mercy on you if you tell them the truth. “Yet he wanted me to conceive a child…and he fucked me nonstop until I couldn't walk… “ Kakucho felt his hand twitch for a second, raising your hand at a woman - it made his blood boil. Even though Bonten was involved with prostitution, their merchandise would still be protected. 

Your mother-in-law's declining health led to her asking you to bear her only son's child. It was a request made out of love. She loved you and adored you like her own daughter, yet she was completely blind to her son's true nature. Manipulative, cunning, aggressive and silver tongued - that's what he was. He tried to knock you up but had no luck. With a visit to the doctor, you'd come to find out about your infertility. This caused a maelstrom of emotions, you were glad yet heartbroken. Cursed to suffer alongside him and unable to conceive. After his mother's death the beatings worsened, the cheating began and so did the drinking.

“Did you miscarry?” Kakucho's question made you chuckle, making him open his eyes to face you. The sight in front of him was that of beauty and horror. The thin bathrobe left little to the imagination, the outline of your perky breasts made him blush. Your figure was gorgeous, your frame was perfect and your eyes almost had an ethereal glow to them. Yet the bruises on your body made him sick. How could someone do that to you? Was your love and devotion not enough for that sadistic son of a bitch? “Apparently I'm hollow…” Your hands caressed your belly as you spoke. Confusion was written all over his face. “I can't have children.” For someone who knows very little about you, he was ready to kill your husband but alas he was already dead. Someone beat him to it. 

There was little to no emotion in your voice. You accepted your infertility and begged to be divorced but he refused to let you go. He refused to see you happy, let alone happy with another man. “I know it doesn't mean much now but I'm very sorry.” Kakucho says and breaks you out of the misery spiral. For the first time in your life since your mother-in-law's death - someone actually said something sincere to you. “Thank you. Who knew strangers could provide such comfort?” You say and head to your bedroom to get dressed. Something about you made him curious. What else were you forced to endure? 

From the doorway you could see the other three males laying on the couches and nodding off to sleep. Looking back at Kakucho, you noticed his eyes never left you. There was warmth building up inside you, but the reality of it all loomed over you like a rain cloud. Yet, the urge to feel that warmth overpowered you. “Mind if I close the door?” There was a tinge of playfulness in your tone. You knew he would keep his eyes on you. He nodded and gently closed the door himself, he didn’t want to catch the attention of the others. 

Shedding the bathrobe and letting it drop to the floor, you kept eye contact with him. You could hear him swallow thickly as his eyes began to wander around your naked figure. Kakucho just about groaned as your body was on full display. The bruises, scars and cuts drew him in like a moth to a flame. He began to walk towards you and closed the distance. Seeing how you could barely lift your arms or bend over, he helped you get dressed. There was tension but as much as he wanted to act on it, he couldn’t. You were too fragile to even touch. 

Finally after helping you to bed, he stepped out of the room and left the door ajar. “I know that look…” The sound of Ran’s voice broke through the silence. Turning around, Kakucho saw that Rindou and Sanzu were asleep on the couch. Ran was sitting by the island and smirking at him. “We might need a little help tomorrow.” Kakucho says and makes a phone call. The remainder of the night was quiet, you slept peacefully for the first time in 3 years. 

*the next morning*

You felt a warm hand on your shoulder, it was gently tugging at you and waking you up. Mumbling, you turned to face Kakucho. He was standing next to your bed. “It’s time.” He says softly. Slowly sitting up you notice he was the only one with you. The others had left already, maybe they were making their way to the lawyers office…wait, what time was it? Grabbing your phone, you see that it’s 8:30 a.m.- you were late. Sensing your panic, Kakucho explained that they let you sleep in as the reading wasn’t until 10:00 a.m. 

During the car ride, you stared out the window and wondered if you would live to see the next sunrise. “Did you tell your boss about that?” You asked him and broke the silence. Apparently there was more than just a simple helping hand last night. You laid your soul bare and told him some additional information that Bonten needed to be aware of. “It’s been taken care of.” He says and keeps his eyes on the road. 

When you arrived, you made your way to the office and upon entering you saw it. Well to be exact, her. Your husband’s mistress and the wicked smirk she had on her face. She was clad in a skin tight black dress that accentuated her bust and belly, a large ‘fur’ coat, stilettos and was wearing bright red lipstick. It was a stark contrast compared to you. You were appropriately dressed like a widow, wearing black dress pants and a black blazer - it was to cover your bruises and also be comfortable during this shitty reading. You had neutral makeup on, just enough to hide the bruises and dark circles. “Well well…you showed up knowing that you ain’t getting shit. How bold of you (Y/N).” The mistress said while eyeing you up and down. Kakucho glared at her, after what you told him last night - he wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off her face.

In walked the lawyer about 2 minutes later, he was a very short man with gray hair and thick glasses. He carried a serious look on his face and by the creases in his face, you can tell his scowl was permanent. Clearing his throat, the lawyer sat down and confirmed that the required party was present to begin. Before he could begin with the reading, the mistress interrupted him by saying something that made you ball up your fists. “Sorry, I need to run to the ladies room. Being pregnant and all, you just can’t hold your bladder.” Her faux apologetic tone was a jab at you and your infertility. Of course she knew, your husband made it known to every prostitute he slept with. How she managed to stick him, you weren’t sure but you no longer cared enough to harbor any jealousy towards their affair. The only thing that managed to hurt you or cause you anger was the fact that she always threw your infertility in your face. It was worse when she found out she was pregnant with his child. Constant bullying and teasing by them both ensued. She was currently 4 months pregnant.

When she returned, you kept your eyes focused on the lawyer and asked him to proceed. You couldn’t stand being in the same room as her. “Very well…we are gathered here today to read the final will and testament of (Husband’s Name). ‘To my wife, (Y/N), I leave to you only one thing, my mother’s wedding ring.’ To- ” The lawyer was interrupted by the loud cackle of the other woman, she was laughing and holding her sides. Ugh, you wanted nothing more than to rip her tongue out. Kakucho placed a hand on your shoulder and snapped you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry, oh that was too funny! Please go on.” She says and wipes tears from her eyes and calms herself.

The lawyer subtly rolls his eyes and proceeds. “As I was saying, ‘To (Mistress’s name), I leave to you all my assets and fortune as you carry our child and my bloodline.’...” Of course she was elated and smiling from ear to ear. Kakucho could see that she was only looking forward to the money and didn’t care that the man in quest had passed away. She was giggling and making a whole scene about how lucky she was and how the god’s blessed her. The lawyer kept reading the will and then the room went silent when the lawyer read the last line of your husband’s will. “In order for (Mistress) to claim any assets and fortunes, a paternity test will be required to prove that the child is the biological child of (husband’s name) no later than 1 month of the child’s birth. In the event that the child is not his, all assets and fortunes will go to his spouse, (Y/N).” As she is a floozy, you knew there was a 3% chance that it wasn’t his child. All eyes turned to look at her and her face was red. She was pissed. “How dare he question his own child?! I will prove it as soon as I am able to get the paternity test!” She yelled and huffed. To be honest, you just wanted to go home, you didn’t care who ended up with anything - Bonten was going to take it anyway.

Just then Kakucho’s cell phone rings, he lightly taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile before he steps out of the room. The mistress caught it all. Her fires simmered when she noticed the look of what she assumed was worry on your face. “Moving on so soon (Y/N)?” She says and it looked as if she was baring her fangs at you. Maybe she could try and take Kakucho from you too. You ignored her question and asked the lawyer what needed to be done in the meanwhile as the mistress was in her 2nd trimester. He explained that you will manage all assets and issue a monthly allowance until the child is born. 

After 10 minutes, Kakucho walked back into the room and asked you not to contest the will. You figured that Bonten instructed him on how you needed to proceed. They will obtain the assets through the mistress, knowing them - it will be easier than dealing with you. You knew the ins and outs of the legal world so you may be able to contest in some sort of way. It was a little upsetting that you were being tossed aside but at the same time you were grateful that you didn’t have to continue suffering for your husbands fuck ups. 

The lawyer presents you and the mistress a document, it was to confirm that you were present at the hearing and will not contest the will. You read over the information to make sure it was all accurate, once confirmed - you signed it and returned the documents to the lawyer. The mistress was so giddy and had a shit eating smirk on her face that it made the lawyer roll his eyes again. The poor man was not having it. Once everything was signed, his assistant came to collect the documents and was personally dropping off the documents to the courthouse for filing. Everything was to be expedited and they did not want to waste any time. “(Y/N), I guess I will come by before the end of the month and drop off my things. Since I will be moving into the house and all.” She says smugly and leaves the office. You wanted to punch her in the face but had to resist the urge to upset her as she is pregnant. It’s not the baby’s fault that their mother is a fucking bitch.

Standing up, you thanked the lawyer and headed out, leaving Kakucho behind. You were so overwhelmed with emotions that you forgot about him and just wanted to go home to pack up your things. You didn’t want to leave anything personal behind for that woman to enjoy. Once you were out of sight, Kakucho placed a document on the lawyer’s desk. He didn’t say a word and let the lawyer read it to himself first. The lawyer gasped and chuckled. “I expect you will arrange a meeting within the next 2 weeks, yes?” Kakucho said and the lawyer nodded. He exited the office and headed back to headquarters. 

The next few days were a blur, you were trying to figure out what to do with your personal belongings and searching for a new place to live. Even if your husband would have left you the penthouse - you didn’t want it. There were too many bitter memories in this hellhole. Lucky for you that you set aside money for yourself and weren’t fully dependent on your husband, you were able to afford living comfortably by yourself. With some of your injuries healed or at least not as bothersome, you were able to move around a little better. It allowed you to pack and put things in storage. Luckily, Kakucho came by everyday to help you. He was extremely kind and believe it or not a great cook. In the midst of all the chaos in your life, he was slowly becoming your rock. 

There were innocent gestures that made your heart skip a beat. As much as you tried not to get attached to another man, it was hard when the man in question was treating you like an actual human and not a punching bag. 

By the end of week 2, you received a call from your husband’s lawyer - he stated that you and the mistress needed to come back down to his office for a final reading and to confirm that the paperwork was accurately filed. You asked if this was something that could be confirmed over the phone but he said no. “It is in your best interest to attend, you also need to sign an additional statement.” Great… You didn't want to see the mistress and her smug face. It was rather short notice, you had to attend tomorrow evening. Ending the call you prepared to let Kakucho know. Either way Bonten was bound to know about this right? Regardless, it was no longer your concern as the mistress would be taking hold of all your husband’s assets. 

A hard knock on your front door spooked you and you thought it was going to be none other than her as she promised to stop by. Huffing in annoyance you walk over and open the door but were caught off guard by the gentleman that stood in there. “(Y/N).” Kakucho was standing in the doorway and made a chill run down your spine. The timing was too perfect. Were they wire tapping your home? You wouldn’t be surprised. “You’re still packing?” His calm demeanor was rather soothing and welcome. Opening the door wider you let him in. “I have to.” You smile softly. 

He noticed that you were packing other things that were rather questionable and gave you an odd look. You chuckle. Kakucho was taken aback at how sweet your laugh was. He realized how much you changed, it was like night and day. On day one, you were broken and quiet - almost frail and had given up on life. Today, you are warm and vibrant. Was this the same woman? 

Throughout the day you were drinking wine and offered him some, at first he refused as he was technically on the job but you somehow got him to accept. Now you were down to the third wine bottle. Getting to know your executioner was rather endearing. Aside from Bonten being what it is, their members weren’t as bad as they seemed - well for now anyways. With the previous visit leaving a bit of tension behind, the wine was giving you the edge you needed to get closer. Who knows, this might be the last time you could sleep with someone of your choosing. Bonten might end up selling you or leaving you penniless. 

“So, why do you do this?” You ask and lean your head back on the couch. You both were sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. There were multiple boxes, papers, momentos and wine bottles scattered about. Kakucho picked up a photo and looked at it, exhaling as he pointed at your husband in the photograph- “To keep people like him in check.” There were various things that came to light after you asked Kakucho to elaborate. Backroom deals, gambling, fraud, prostitution and of course murder - they were all dealt with by Boten. Your husband ended up joining them as a partner after trying to move into their territory. Some things were a little familiar to you but there were other unsavory things that hit you like a truck. It made you sick. Your husband owed them money amongst other things.

All this wealth was obtained by walking on other people’s corpses. Your husband not only destroyed you but he also destroyed others. It was naive of you to think that you were the only one who was taking in his wrath. Sensing your disquiet, Kakucho opted to change the subject. “You will be set free, (Y/N).” He says softly. Turning to look at him, you noticed his eyes were glossed over - oh that innocent look on his face… It made you want to devour him. “You know you shouldn’t promise things like that.” You say coyly. You were just teasing but at the same time you meant what you said.

Taking a chance and letting the liquid courage take over, you leaned over and pressed your forehead against his. The unsteady breathing and sweet scent of alcohol only drew you in. “What are we doing?” He whispers and almost pouts when you bite your lip. “I want you to make me feel like a woman again.” You almost whimper your reply and place your hand on his chest. Oh you just made Bonten’s number 3 head spin. In the blink of an eye, his lips were on yours - hungrily devouring every breath and whimper. For once, you were enjoying getting kissed, you were enjoying the taste of alcohol on someone else’s lips and you were sinking into bliss.

You felt your heart racing, it was racing out of excitement rather than fear. His hands began to travel along your body and touched places that you never thought would make your heart skip a beat. The more heated the kiss got, the more you wanted him to lay you down already - you were desperate. 

Feeling bolder, you moved your hands south and felt the bulge that was throbbing. You breath almost caught in your throat - he felt bigger than anything you’ve ever had before, larger than your now dead husband. Wasting no time, you made haste and unbuckled his belt, you were leading. Throbbing in your hands was Kakucho’s member, oh the gods gifted him with more than just a menacing look. Leaning back away from him you took in the sight in front of you. Heavy panting, chest heaving, glossy eyes and parted lips - he was beyond handsome. You paused a little too long before you were snapped out of your daydream. 

“You’re not gonna leave me like this are you?” He pants and moves your hand in a stroking motion, sending a jolt of electricity down his shaft. Oh how he was making your brain turn into mush. Continuing your motions, you felt your core aching and in desperate need of attention. Running your thumb over his leaking slit, you felt his hips jerk and he let out the sweetest moan. “Kakucho…” You say coyly and put a little more pressure around his length. He moans a response and gazes at you. His mind was also melting and on the verge of turning into mush. “Can I…taste you?” You ask while leaning in and give his tip a kitten lick that makes his eyes roll back. He chuckles and gives you permission to devour him.

Taking him in your mouth, you taste his sweet essence and bob your head slowly up and down. Focusing on his tip, your tongue swirls around the head and he feels his vision getting hazy. He was a lot to take in, with the tip hitting the back of your throat, you had a feeling he was going to tear you apart later. To him it felt like sweet torture, you were giving him affection - something that he hasn’t felt in a long time and yet you were going so slow with your movements that he wanted nothing more than to thrust his hips up to make you gag. Hearing those husky moans and his breath hitch made your folds begin to stick to the fabric of your panties. Pleasing him like this only made butterflies run rampant in your stomach. 

Releasing his member from your mouth, you took a long lick from the base of his cock up to his flushed tip. You continued to take his length further into your mouth but not too deep, you wanted to keep him on edge and make him whine a little longer. Your jaw was getting sore but you wanted to keep going. 

Kakucho placed his hand on the back of your head and pushed you down further. It made you gag a little but you welcomed his actions. They were gentle, unlike your husband - he would force your head down until you couldn’t breathe properly or until you threw up. He would leave your throat and jaw sore for days and wouldn’t care if you could barely eat the next day. Moving your hand to his length, you start to pump his cock while sucking and it sends him into overdrive. “Ngh…(Y/N), wait! Shit, you’re gonna make me cum…” He moans and tries to pull you off but fails. You were determined to swallow his seed. 

The vibrations of your moans travel down his cock and into his core. Kakucho was getting lost in heaven. The very woman who Bonten was going to take everything from was on her knees and pleasing him. Your pace began to quicken as you felt his length twitch and the vein along his shaft pulsed. His coil was so tightly wound that the moment he felt it snap, his eyes rolled back into his skull and that numbing sensation made his toes curl. Hearing him come undone was bliss, to know that you could make a man like him melt and make him whimper - it did wonders to your ego. Your husband would always say that you were good for nothing, that you would never be able to satisfy a man and yet here you are with one of the country’s most dangerous men. You were giving him the blowjob of a lifetime.

Swallowing his thick seed, you made sure to not waste a single drop and continued to suck his sensitive tip even after he emptied himself inside your mouth. “Stop…oh fuck!” Kakucho whines and pulls your hair. Releasing his member with a pop, you smile and slowly stroke him - making his hips twitch and his whimpers louder. Nothing in the world could compare to this feeling. You felt validated and worthy of satisfying another man, you felt like a woman for the first time in years. Your husband only ever made you feel like a toy, almost as if your sole purpose in life was for him to break you. He would treat you less like a woman and even less as a human being. 

Catching his breath, Kakucho remained seated on the floor - dazed and determined on what to do to you. “Get up…” He pants and pulls you up. That tone of voice was quite authoritative. You obey and get on your feet. He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom. “Strip…” His low tone made a chill run down your spine and you removed your clothing. He too started to remove all his clothing. When he saw that you left your undergarments on, he paused. “Everything, (Y/N).” He demanded and layed down on your bed. Feeling the cool air hit your skin, you shivered and he noticed. “Come here.” He says warmly, he was trying to reassure you. 

Seeing him in all his glory…oh how your cunt clenched instinctively. His defined muscles, the veins on his arms - it made you almost drool. Even the scar on his chest that appeared to be a bullet hole had your slick dripping. Climbing on the bed, you take place next to him and run your hands along his body. The slow and gentle touches made his member twitch. Even in its flaccid state, it still twitched and looked big. He rolled you on top of him and slid his arms underneath your thighs. The confused look on your face made him chuckle. He lifts you by your thighs and slides you up towards his face. The movement was so sudden that it made you squeak in surprise. Looking down at him, his pupils were blown as he had your pretty cunt in his face. 

“Wait…I-ngh!” You moaned out loud as he pushed your hips down and buried his face in your honeypot. He was sucking on your bundle of nerves and wasted no time in making you scream his name. Your hands quickly found solace by holding on to the headboard and your forehead was leaning against the wall. Whoever was lucky enough to be on the other side of that wall could hear you moan like a whore in heat. Kakucho snaked his hand between your thighs and slid two thick digits inside your tight walls. Pumping them in and out while sucking on your clit had your eyes rolling back and your hips grinding into his face. Hearing him slightly struggle underneath you only made your coil tighten. 

Such lewd and wet sounds echoed in the room along with your wanton moans. “Ahn…Ahn…Kakucho! It feels s’good!” You mewl and run your hands along your chest, pinching and teasing your nipples. The electricity coursing through your veins had you in a daze. Not even your husband ever bothered to eat you out before - Kakucho’s gift to you was more than anything your husband could have offered you. He curled his fingers to find your trigger, when he found it your legs were beginning to shake and your hips were stuttering. Your pitch got higher and higher as you neared total bliss. 

That unmistakable tingle that ran down your spine made you throw your head back and total ecstasy as your orgasm was ripped out of you. Kakucho didn’t stop, he kept going - he wasn’t satisfied with just one. “Ngh, s’too much!” You whine and try lifting your hips away from his face. However, the iron grip that he had on your waist made it impossible for you to escape. “Mhn…one more, just one more…” He pants from between your legs. The sound of your sweet voice kept him spellbound. He wanted to keep hearing you cry out for him. 

Your overly sensitive bundle of nerves was throbbing from the continuous stimulation. He moved lower and shoved his tongue inside your tight cavern. Kakucho wanted to taste everything, his warm and wet muscle felt like heaven. With your walls fluttering you thought you were going to lose it again. “Stop! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You whine pathetically, begging him to stop knowing full well that you didn’t want him to. The final push was him tracing circles on your clit with enough pressure to make your vision go white. 

Kakucho made you gush and he took it all. The obscene sounds of him slurping up your honey echoed in the room. Your whole body was shaking from the intense orgasm that you felt almost light headed. Slowly, he slid your body down and made you collapse into his chest. The energy was drained from you, barely being able to move or respond when he asked if you were ok. Only a small hum could be heard from you. Wrapping his arms around you, he placed a kiss on your head and whispered. “We’re not done yet. You wanted to feel like a woman? I’ll keep showing you…” His low tone made you smile softly and bury your face into his chest. 

The rest of the night became a blur. By the time morning came you were left disheveled, sore and satisfied. Kakucho meant what he said. All night he made you moan, scream, cum and cry out in pure bliss. He stuffed you full of his cum to the point where the sheets were beyond saving. His aftercare was even better, got you water and some light snacks for you to nibble on - even medicine for your throat. To think that this was one of the most feared men in all of Japan, last night he was more than that to you. Rolling over, you see Kakucho sleeping next to you. He looked so peaceful and innocent despite the prominent scar on his face. Seeing his chest rise and fall softly, you take a better look at the tattoo on his chest - it looks like all the higher ups have this. You recalled the man with the feline like eyes and the placement of his tattoo on his temple. The two Haitani brothers and their neck tattoos. Also, their leader - the man with the empty eyes and white hair, he had his on the nape. It would be a tattoo that you’d need to familiarize yourself with. 

Kakucho stirred in his sleep and woke up with you kissing his cheek. “Good morning…” You say softly and ask him if he’s hungry. You both opted to get up and shower…together, it ended up in another round of sex that led to skipping breakfast and diving straight into lunch. Offering him a change of clothes, he accepted - besides, the clothes were brand new and never worn. No need to worry about the mistress recognizing it and accusing you of theft of ‘her things’. 

Arriving at the lawyers office, you see that the mistress was already there. She was smiling smugly from ear to ear. When she noticed you with Kakucho, her smile faded ever so slightly - jealous that he was still with you. “So quick to move on…what a shame (Y/N). Looks like you truly don’t deserve any of (H/N)’s fortune.” You paid her no mind, you just had the best night and morning of your life. “I feel bad for you when you give birth, that baby’s gonna have a big ass head just like the mother and father…you might just tear (M/N). You might never be able to please a man again.” You say without thinking. The sudden fire in you made Kakucho almost burst out laughing. Quite the insult to a pregnant woman, she of course gasped and huffed defending her unborn baby’s head size. The poised woman was gone, you no longer had to keep appearances nor bite your tongue. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat made the room fall silent. He took a seat at this desk and went over the original will one last time before making you and the mistress review the already signed and filed documents. Both parties agreed that everything was in place. The mistress couldn’t help but keep chuckling to herself as she repeated words loud enough for you to hear. “...to my wife, I leave nothing.” It was annoying but you didn’t let her get to you - you wanted to come back home and have dinner with Kakucho. 

“Now that both parties confirmed, please note that there is a new document that was received after the filing that affects this arrangement and cannot be disputed.” He says and narrows his eyes. For a moment you felt your stomach flip - what the hell was he talking about? Did the wench take an early paternity test? It’s not like it mattered, you knew you were going to vacate the home and keep your mother-in-law’s ring. That much was certain. Acknowledging the lawyer's words, you asked him to elaborate and explain what the real reason was for you both to be here. He nodded and began to read out loud the document in his hands:

“From the University of Tokyo Hospital, below is the information requested by (Husband’s full name) on (11 Nov YYYY) and (12 Dec YYYY). The original tests and new tests administered resulted in the following:

Spermatozoa count - below 2 million per mil.

Sperm motility - below 20%

Sperm viscosity - high

Sperm morphology - abnormal

Unfortunately, both labs have confirmed that the patient is infertile. With the severe lack of sperm motility and spermatozoa count - treatment is not possible.”

Everything in the room went dead silent. You felt faint and nauseous, was this actually true? The sudden screech of the mistress startled you and she came charging at the lawyer’s desk to snatch the paper out of his hands. She was beet red and almost foaming at the mouth. Reading the document in hand she crushed the edges that she was holding and her hands were shaking. “This…this can’t be! It has to be fake!” She screams and looks at Kakucho who was biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “You probably faked this document to get in on your whore’s money!” She spits and rips the paper to shreds. The lawyer simply sighs and asks you to sign the document confirming that you were present at this hearing. Apparently your late husband amended his will one month prior to his death. When he received the first results in November he contacted his lawyer to insert a new clause. Originally he wasn’t going to leave you anything, however, due to him sleeping around not getting anyone pregnant - he grew suspicious.

With the mistress screaming like a banshee and almost attacking the lawyer, security was called to have her escorted out. The lawyer was quick to have you and Kakucho sign as a witness to all this. “Ms. (L/N), congratulations - you have all your husband’s assets and fortune. Please rest assured that the mistress will not be able to contest.” He said softly and smiled. His smile was warm, it’s as if he knew this was going to happen. How long was this information in his hands? Wait, is this why Kakucho said for you not to contest the will?

The lawyer excused himself and left the office for you to have a moment to yourself. The room was spinning and thought you were going to die. It wasn’t just the shock from the hospital results but the fact that your husband abused you and beat you non stop for being infertile when in reality he was the one shooting blanks the entire time. You began to laugh to yourself, slowly building up to a cry that made you drop to your knees. It was painful. Recalling all the times he called you hollow or less of a woman when your pregnancy tests would come out negative - it broke your heart. You were both the problem, the blame shouldn’t have been just placed on you. 

“(Y/N), there is something else I need to tell you. We did some digging and whoever was in charge of getting your fertility results a few years back royally fucked up which rendered your tests inconclusive and marked as infertile by mistake. You can have children.” Kakucho says softly and helps you stand back up. A second wave of emotions hit you and panic soon followed. You were fucking him raw yesterday and this morning like a rabbit in heat. “Kakucho…how long have you known for?!” You ask him and shove him. There was a slight pained expression on his face, he should have told you sooner. “That medicine I gave you this morning was a morning after pill. (Y/N), I’m sorry, I let myself get carried away.” At least he was honest. Last night he snuck out of your apartment to purchase the pill and would pass it off as ibuprofen or something since you were saying your throat was sore. Though he wasn’t expecting to sleep with you again in the morning he explained that he would take responsibility if the contraceptive fails. Whatever your decision would be, he will respect it and will do what he can. He made sure to explain this to you and managed to pull you in. Crying in his arms, he embraced you and did his best to calm you down.

“You didn’t sleep with me just for my husband’s assets, did you?” You ask a little broken hearted. The night you spent with him meant more to you than just sex. It was you liberating yourself once and for all from your husband. You didn’t expect to feel something more for Kakucho. Maybe it was the fact that he made you feel validated and praised you like a goddess, but it felt real. “The assets have nothing to do with what we did last night or this morning.” He assured you. 

*4 months later*

You signed off on all documents that allowed you to transfer or ‘donate’ your husband’s assets to Bonten. The head of the organization, Sano Manjiro, handed over a legal sized envelope with your name on it to you. He said nothing and walked away. “W-wait, what is this?” You ask him and he waves you off without responding. Opening the envelope you read over the information and gasp. Though you handed over everything to Bonten, they gave you something in return. Manjiro was kind enough to leave you something that the three of you could enjoy. Kakucho leaned over and placed a peck on your head. “You know, he is kind of excited to be an uncle...” 

END.

TAGS: @anxious-chick

[gingersnipe]

I have no idea who etho slab is, but I assume he’s a wet cat of a man who tries his best to play Minecraft and fails miserably.

etho s. lab has been a minecraft youtuber since 2010 and is famed for pioneering many technical achievements in minecraft’s logic-based in-game coding system (redstone) that have become ubiquitous such as the etho hopper clock (which he just calls the hopper clock). many other minecraft youtubers (bdoubleo100 and docm77 to name just two) call him one of the best if not THE best minecraft youtuber out there. he has a reputation for being incredibly deadly in-game due to participating in multiple seasons of a pvp game mode called UltraHardcore (UHC) and making it to the final two or winning several times.

however

minecraft is a game that adds new content regularly and changes game mechanics every now and then, and the pvp system has evolved over time. now my man, my good time boy, mr. etho slab was out of the pvp game for a little while, and jumped back into a series people around here call the “life series” “life smp” “traffic series” or “traffic smp”, named after the life system implemented on this minecraft server. basically, you have a limited number of lives which is denoted by the color of your in-game name (green, yellow, and red). the current iteration of this series is called limited life because the players have a limited amount of time to be “alive”. you gain time by killing others, and you lose time if you die.

etho has not been doing well in this game. he has died so many times. he died so many times in the most recent session that he claimed “audio corruption issues” and didn’t upload his perspective. he is also roleplaying being a somewhat absent father to his in-game children (other players in the game) and has been told by his in-game ex-wife he isn’t even succeeding at that. a running bit that he stated himself is that he’s “washed up” and the fandom has taken that and sprinted with it.

and that’s not even mentioning the 1v1 pvp with geminitay (aka geminislay) where he killed her i think twice and she killed him 28 times. or the fact that he plays without a mousepad. or the audio capture setup that baffles everyone.

he’s our favorite guy, he is actually incredibly good at minecraft, but right now he’s a bit washed up. pathetic wet cat so true so correct

[lulublack90]

Prompt 12 - Roar

@wolfstarmicrofic June 12, word count 615

Previous part First part

“Come on Gryffindor’s row!” Sirius ordered as he thrust his own oar out in front of himself, brandishing it like a sword. The Slytherin team looked up too late. James, Remus and Peter rammed the other team’s raft, knocking them all into the water. Sirius nimbly hopped across with James following close behind and started rowing it away from the Slytherin's reach. Remus and Peter moved their raft as fast as they could after them. Remus was thoroughly enjoying himself. He’d never played pirates as a child and this seemed an excellent way to have that chance. It was what his dad had wanted, after all, he reasoned, as he rowed just that little bit harder. 

They stopped in the middle of the lake. James quickly lashed the rafts together and turned them into one. 

Sirius let out a roar like a lion as he held his oar above his head. James joined in on the next one, raising his oar above his head as well. Peter joined them on the third roar and Remus, not wanting to be left out, roared on their final roar. Feeling the rush of excitement from their successful commandeering.  

“BLACK, POTTER, PETTIGREW AND LUPIN! RETURN IMMEDIATELY!” Minerva McGonagall’s voice boomed across the water. She’d gotten a megaphone from somewhere. She lowered it and crooked a finger at them, beckoning them back. 

“Don’t know why she’s using that thing,” Sirius muttered as they dipped their oars into the water. “She’s shouted at me louder than that without its aid.” James snickered and set the others off, so by the time they’d steered their oversized raft to the shore they were all struggling to keep their faces straight.

“Chores,” Was all she said before she stormed off. The four looked at each other, silently debating if she meant for them to follow them. She turned back and glowered at them. Yep, they were meant to follow her. 

“Never in all my years of working here have I had a group of boys quite as troublesome as yourselves. Knocking other campers into the lake and stealing their raft! What were you thinking?!”

“I believe the correct term is pirating their raft.” Sirius chimed in helpfully. Oddly enough, McGonagall didn’t find it very helpful. 

“Mr Black,” Her sick sweet smile made Remus nervous, and it wasn’t even aimed at him. “You will be cleaning the toilets every day until your stay here is over, as well as,” She raised her voice slightly when he started to protest. “As well as, weeding, painting, putting away equipment we have used that day, helping Ms Pince in the library, mopping the main hall, and collecting dirty washing from the cabins.” She turned to look at Remus and the others. “You will all be helping Mr Black with these chores. I will also be writing to all your parents,” She dismissed them, telling them they’d be painting the border fences tomorrow instead of going on the nature trail Mr Flitwick had planned.

“Sorry,” Sirius whispered in Remus's ear as they crossed the campsite to their cabin. 

“For what? That was thrilling,” Remus grinned at him and leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ve never done anything like that before. Today I was a pirate. I’ll gladly do whatever she wants because I got to be a pirate,” Sirius chuckled at his excitement. 

“Well, at least we’ve still got our dibs cards. She forgot to take them off us. I say we use them to get extra pudding tonight before she remembers. You know, make the most of them.” Sirius grabbed his hand and Remus could almost taste the big slabs of chocolate cake he knew were for pudding that night. 

Next part

[thefusioncelestial]

Mix 13: A Geeky Bulk

Anonymous asked:

I am a chubby and hairy American Guy who is a little on the geeky side of life. I love Jamar Pusch's pecs and how he can make them bounce. Could you merge us please?

For the uninitiated, for those going the natural route of being big & cut at the same time comes in two cycles; the bulk and the cut.

The bulk is when the user focuses on gaining mass, and that means an big calorie intake. That means covering that coveted slab of visible muscles; the abs. But while they join the population of bears, the muscles, when paired with exercise, encourages muscle growth with the building blocks just sitting there.

The cut? Think of it as revealing the results. You go in the opposite direction on calorie & fatty intake and bask in the results. Continuous use of this basic method is how the skinny kid becomes the long lost cousin of Captain America.

Here is one dude who does this:

Jamar Pusch.

Worked his butt off to get that look. You would swear that he was sculpted rather than built up.

Unbeknownst to himself, he is the target of that infamous group we call the prowlers. In this case, a father who wants to give was Jamar has to his wimpy son. You would think that with all the money in the world that he could just pay for the best trainers & dieticians, but many wealthy people can be illogical & demanding.

He procured a bottle of red liquid. All he has to do is pour on the target, and have the one who attends to assimilate touch them.

Jamar is finishing a typical photo-shoot, the best result will go on his Instagram, the rest to whoever he dms. The man is looking for love like the rest us.

His shoot has been infiltrated, a couple of payments here & there under the table, and the father and son arrive to the location using the new info. There are other people there admiring the modern day Adonis. The duo poses as fans. The event concludes, and Jamar goes to a trailer he rented for use for a nearby music cultural event, and the duo follows him.

There is a knock on the door. He opens and sees the father & son standing there gleaming. The son has a nervous energy about him, but Jamar pushes this away as a nervous fan. He beckons them into his trailer for a private supervised one on one meet & greet, and they obliged him.

The father was more excited than the son. Maybe the son was just getting introduced to this world to inspire him to workout? How fatherly.

Unknown to all three of them, a third fan was just out of earshot in the area. He saw this as an opportunity, goes to the trailer as well. The door is unlocked. He goes in, but what he sees angers & shocks him.

Jamar sits the pair down and offers them drinks.

They accept.

The father sees this as his chance.

He uncorks the bottle and splashes the contents on Jamar. He turns around to protest, but soon he freezes up like a statue. The only thing he could do is plead & scream in protest.

"I must thank you Mr. Pusch, I appreciate what you are about to do for my son. He is about to go to college, and I find he will have a better time if he can "hang" with the physically gifted type. Tell me, what sports are you into," he asked in a jubilant manner that turned stern.

His son looked nervous. The father glanced over with a frown at his son.

"Hopefully you will give him your confidence too, I tried so hard to instill courage into him, but his mother may have babied him a bit too much. No matter, let's get this over with," he said.

"Charlie, go shake Mr. Pusch's hand," he said.

The young man walked over silently. Jamar tried his best to move but couldn't. He then saw something. Hope.

The silent fan who came over saw all of this in the trailer. His mouth was agape. Was Jamar about to get kidnapped or worse killed? His anger took over. He dropped his phone that he was going to use to get pictures, and ran over to the father.

The shock of an intruder made the father's heart stop and blood freeze. Was he caught by security? The person coming over was a large man after all. By the time he registered to do something else and than wish for laser beam eyes, he was knocked over.

The son too was shocked at this. He moved his hand away from Jamar, and turned to his father.

Truth be told, he didn't want to change like this. He didn't want to steal someone else's body to appease his father or anyone else for that matter. If he was going to change, it was going to be on his terms. What Charlie wanted to do right now was save his father.

He found his courage.

He ran over, and with an adrenaline boost peeled the large man off his father and shoved him away. But he pushed him in the direction of Jamar.

He crashed into Jamar, and it began.

Surprisingly, Jamar didn't fall over or collapse. He just sort of absorbed the impact. For the large fan, it was like jumping into a combination of marshmallow & quicksand. His body sinked further into Jamar until all there was left was just Jamar.

Jamar cocked his head back & began to shift.

Mentally, Jamar was in this fan's head space. He was getting assimilated by him. Jamar & this fan talked it out. Explaining things from their perspective and then uniting under one cause of escaping from these crazy people. Jamar also convinced him to let him drive the wheel. He sensed that whatever was happening was a done deal, and he would be better steered to handle whatever they are about to become. The mind space inverted. They were in Jamar's mind. The fan broke down into confetti and merged into Jamar. It was time to kick some ass.

In flipping the mind merge, Jamar was able to reverse the physical merge process. The fan would upgrade him.

He let out a soft moan. His body began to quiver & shudder.

His skin grew softer as layers of fat grew all over.

"Hmm."

A warmth washed over stomach, each wave an inch of fat covering his abs.

There was rustling in his pants. His rod grew longer and strained against the tight pants. He grunted and then chuckled.

His neck bulged out & his head lengthened.

His facial features shifted, bigger eyes, smaller lips. A slightly more upturned nose. He kept his ears. His hair shortened.

He took on a darker skin tone as well, but soon after hair began to grow throughout his body.

He opened his eyes. The father & son were shocked by what they saw.

The father snapped out and commanded Charlie to touch the fused Jamar, but nothing happened. One pair per dose, and the father used all of it in one go.

He gave the father a beating. He had to change himself and consume someone else because some jack rabbit of a father wanted a shortcut. Security came in after seeing the trailer move a bit, and apprehended the pair.

The father was charged with attempted kidnapping later on.

The son wasn't a total wash and Jamar would mentor the young man.

As for Jamar, his life trajectory changed. The fan that saved him, was a part of him now, imparted some interesting interests. With the connections he built up, Jamar went into acting; doing mo-cap & voice acting for video games, one of which involved a galaxy far far away. He is having a blast too:

In time Jamar would deal with layers on his stomach. He has been here before many times. He just fast tracked a bulk cycle. Time for the cut.

Wait, did that water bottle move by itself?

[chloessleepystories]

A New Treat

Mind control, Drugged, Female/Female

"Trick or treat!!"

A common scene in suburban Anytown, USA. Small children running from house to house, shrieking, parents walking along behind them. And two teenage girls, with a bit of gore makeup and torn clothes - just enough to suggest zombie versions of themselves, but not so much that they weren't still attractive - standing on a porch, in the light of an open door.

“Well, what have we here?” the man said, leaning on the door frame with an easy smile. “The sexy zombie, an excellent choice.”

The blonde one giggled. “You think we’re sexy, mister?” she said, throwing out a hip.

“Don’t be gross, Jess,” muttered the other zombie.

The man laughed. “You guys look great. How old are you? Still in school?”

“We’re seniors. We were supposed to go to a party, but our friends bailed on us after we already had our faces on, so we thought we’d take a walk, get some candy.”

“Wise choice. You haven’t had too much of ‘Aren't you a little too old for trick-or-treating,’ I hope...”

“Nah,” said Jess. “Once or twice, but overall, people have been really nice. What’s the harm, right? It's Halloween!”

“Exactly. And better than a lot of things teenagers could be getting up to. Hang on."

The man turned, and passed his hand over the big bowl of little candy before reaching into the little bowl full of big candy. He handed the girls a pair of chocolate bars.

"Full size candy bars? Awesome! Thanks!"

"Happy Halloween, you two. Have fun tonight."

He smiled, showing his teeth.

They waved, and hopped down the steps, giggling as they headed toward the next house.

The man closed the door slowly, watching them go. On the back of the door was a small chalkboard, with a piece of chalk attached by string. He carefully took the chalk and added two tally marks to the marks already counted there ...

***

The leaves were crunchy underfoot as Jessika and Dionne crossed the quiet suburban street. It was dark enough that there were fewer kids out now. Most of the younger ones had been taken home.

“My bag is getting heavy,” said Jess.

“Oh, poor baby! I’ve got so much candy, I can hardly carry it all,” laughed her friend. “ ‘I can’t close my wallet cuz it’s too full of fifties, and my diamond shoes are too tight.’ ”

“Stop it.” She gave Dee a playful shove.

It was a nice warm night, warmer than average for Halloween. A nice night for a nice walk with her best friend.

“I’m gonna start eating my candy, I’m hungry.”

Then they both shouted, “Hungry for SUGARRRRR…” One of their many pointless running gags, whose origins were lost in time.

“So what’s your boyfriend doing tonight?” asked Jessika, rummaging in her bag.

“Oh, you know, nothing much. Just being useless. Call of Duty, I think, or one of those games that’s more important than going to a party with his – What?”

Jess had let out a squeal. “I forgot about this! Lookit that big-ass slab of chocolate…” She produced the bar from the man they’d dubbed “Mr King Size” – a nickname that had kept them in stitches for blocks. “I’m starting with this … “

It was some kind of off-brand chocolate – not a name they’d ever heard of before. But that didn’t matter, “Chocolate Fog” was exactly what she needed right then. She tore it open and broke off a piece, then moaned, in shocked exuberance.

“Holy cow, what am I eating?! My mouth just had an orgasm!”

“Gimme!”

“You got your own …”

“One piece!”

“Damn, it even smells good. Here, smell it.” She held the chocolate under Dionne’s nose, and was a little impressed – and a little aroused – when she saw her friend’s eyes flutter. Dee’s mouth hung open a little, and her eyes glazed for a second.

“Oh, fuck, that smells divine. Where’s mine …”

Dionne had to fight back a sudden impulse to dump the whole bag out just to find the candy bar. She got on her knees on the sidewalk and dug around with both hands and it didn’t take long to find the biggest piece of candy. In seconds she had torn off one end of the wrapper, broken off a square, and stuffed it in her mouth.

“Oh godd why is that so good …” moaned Dionne, lying back on the sidewalk. “Am I just that chocolate-starved?”

“Get up, you lunatic!” laughed Jess. She had already chewed up a second piece, and was licking her chocolatey fingers. “Mmmm, I’m definitely going to have to find some more of these at the store …” She sucked on her fingers, not wanting to take them out of her mouth, in case she found a little more chocolate taste. “Geffup,” she said indistinctly, giving her friend a gentle kick.

Dionne leapt dutifully to her feet, and they walked on. “Here, I’ll show you good I think it is,” said Dee. She peeled back the paper and sucked on one end of the bar, then started pushing it slowly into her mouth. Her moans took on a sexual quality.

“Eww you’re disgusting!!” screamed Jess, finally taking the fingers out of her mouth.

Dionne put a hand to the back of her own head, and pushed her head onto the chocolate, simulating someone forcing it deeper and deeper into her mouth. Jess howled with laughter as she broke off another square.

Dee had felt the chocolate hit the back of her throat, just for a second, and now, as she pulled the bar slowly out of her mouth, strings of drool hanging between it and her lips, she panted. A light sheen of sweat showed on her face as they approached the streetlight, and her eyes seemed a little out of focus as she gasped breathlessly.

“Here, watch this,” said Jessika. The square had been melting between her warm fingers for a moment, but now she held it up to run her tongue over and around the dark chunk. Around and around her tongue swirled, as she made oral love to it, watching her friend with a smirk.

Dee licked her lips as she watched, mesmerized … staring at the chocolate. Staring at her friend’s tongue. Jess popped it into her mouth, and Dee, still not smiling, just watched. Watched her lips as she chewed, the tongue that came out to lick the lips … Then her eyes moved to Jess’s chocolatey fingers.

With a sudden grab for her wrist, she sucked Jess’s fingers into her wet, warm mouth. Dee’s eyes closed and she shuddered a little as she tasted the chocolate. Waves of pleasure tremored through her body and she moaned, and kept sucking, working her tongue between the fingers, poking her fingernails into the back of her throat.

“Oh god,” Jessika breathed, open-mouthed at this performance. Dionne really looked like a zombie for the first time all night – heavy-lidded, dull-brained, drooling, and needy.

Having her best friend suckle on her fingers was sending warm tingles through Jess’s core. A fluttering in her belly … and lower …

“Hey … Hey Dee –“ she gasped, pulling her wet fingers back to grab the chocolate bar. She broke off a piece, then waved in front of her zombified friend’s face. Dionne’s eyes followed it back and forth, her mouth open slightly. Jessika put it between her own lips, holding it in place with her teeth, and smiled.

Dionne didn’t hesitate. She moved in, kissing her friend passionately. They bit the chocolate in half and each kept chewing and tasting while sucking on each other’s tongues, hands groping their clothing, their skin …

Jess’s hand pressed into Dee’s cunt.

Dee lifted Jess’s sweater to squeeze her breast.

Jess bit Dee on the neck, licking and sucking.

Dee hungrily brought her lips to Jess’s nipple, even as she squirmed against Jess’s insistent fingers.

Jessika pulled her tight little sweater and bra over her head, smiling.

Dionne pushed her friend back into a huge pile of leaves, and leapt on her, devouring her juicy tits, lifting her skirt, ripping off her panties, and diving tongue first into the first pussy she’d ever tasted. It was juicy, and warm, and delicious, and her mind swooned with flavor and desire and need.

Jess held her friend’s head in place, humping against her lips, knowing her turn was next, needing to give as much as she was receiving.

Dee growled like a werewolf.

Jess screamed like a banshee …

Later, as they rested in the crunchy pile of leaves – feeling like children, but not at all like children, resting from their play that was more than play – Dee stroked Jess’s hair as Jess cooed and smiled muzzily.

“That was amazing,” murmured Dee. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Jess looked up, kissed her friend’s mouth. “Let me take you home. I’ll sneak you into my bedroom for a while before you have to go home.”

Dionne bit her lip, thinking. Her boyfriend wouldn’t even miss her.

“We’ve still got some of that chocolate left,” Jessika sing-songed.

Dee grinned. “Deal.” And they helped each other out of the leaves and into their clothes, and walked off hand in hand, to enjoy more of this new treat they’d found … each other.

[definitelynotamhafan]

Bound (Fear pt.4)

You were choking. Fire, water, whatever it was, shoving itself down your throat in the void. You wanted to scream, but nothing came. It wasn’t painful. If it was, you would’ve pushed the god off of you long ago.

Atum-Ra’s burning hot hands gripping your throat, and then, kiss after kiss, brought you back. And then fire lit your blood up, flaring inside your veins. Your fingers clutched onto the creator’s hair, pulling and tugging as your own lips sought life into his own. Kisses after kisses, more and more heat sparked your souls.

“Amheh.” Your name, off of his tongue. “You’ll never leave me, right? You promise?”

The heat pounding in your head, along with the lightheaded feeling which his addictive lips gave you, barely allowed you to process his words. But when you did, you barely managed to slur out a:

“Never.”

Before white hot, searing pleasure brought its tendrils around you again, as Atum-Ra’s hips molded into yours for the nth time that night.

It felt so good. So right, up until you’d felt his warm smile fade, into a psychotic grin.

“Swear it. Amheh. Amheh. Amheh! AM-“

___

“-HEH!” Seth’s voice startled you awake as you jolted up, sweating and panting.

“M’ awake! ‘m awake!- ow.” Your head hit the wooden beam of Seth’s bed with a smack.

“You alright? You were screaming in your sleep.” His voice took on a teasing tone as you rubbed your head in absolute silence.

Great. Even in your sleep you couldn’t escape your filthy and possessive ex.

“M’fine…” you mumbled, voice sore and hoarse with grogginess.

You sat up, propping your back off of the cold floor with a hand, the floor on which you had insisted to sleep on the night before, assuring Seth that beds were of no comfort for you, since you used to sleep on obsidian slabs and in pools of hot molten lava. You may or may not have regretted that decision, because you definitely felt your back crack with a wince.

“Told you.” He said, as if knowing what you were thinking. “Was it good?”

“Was what good?” You shot back as you pulled yourself together hard enough to stand up.

“The sex.”

You almost choked on your own spit, wheezing out a: “JESUS CHRIST.”

“Who?”

“Nevermind.” You answered, shrugging off his confusion. “And that.” You said, referring to your private affairs. “Is none of your business.”

Seth’s smirk only tugged up further, turning even as smug as possible, for someone who’d gotten carried to bed by yours truly.

“C’mooooon. I heard you.” He teased. “Oh, Ra, please! Harder~! Harder~!”

You grabbed a nearby pillow and smacked him on the head.

“Bold words coming from you, Mr. I-fell-asleep-on-the-couch-so-Amheh-can-carry-me-like-the-princess-I-am!” You retorted, frowning.

After the entire charade involving hiding from Horus in antique pottery you had stayed up late, enjoying Seth’s yapping about other gods, laughing at how he mocked them and trash talked them, and eventually ended up watching him doze off on the couch. You had carried him back to bed, and when he stirred awake, he had tried to persuade you into joining him, which you refused. Multiple times.

He may have been one of the only people you’d be close enough to consider family, but that didn’t mean you trusted him any more than the venomous viper Ra was. For all you could know, this could’ve been a setup, to get you to admit to the crimes you’d been accused of.

“What’s your deal?” You suddenly blurted out.

“What?” Seth asked, suddenly confused.

“Why are you here?” You questioned, raising a brow. “Didn’t the council curse you to be a demigod? Last I checked, demigods don’t have temples, let alone ones this big-“

“How do you know about that?” He asked, suddenly aggressive. His eyes drifted to yours, blood red eyes meeting your light speckled ones.

“Oh please. You think I’m stupid? Even I, on my millennia long trip, managed to hear what kind of crap you shoved yourself into.” You chastised, half mocking, half annoyed.

“To answer your question, I was a god once.” He retorted, mirroring your tone.

“Was.” You corrected.

“…” he paused. “Your point?” His brow quirked, lips pursing together in annoyance.

“Why would Ra let you keep your temple? Let me tell you this. She wouldn’t.” You said, suddenly suspicious of him. “Did she set this up?”

“What do you take me for?! A fool?” Seth suddenly jumped, like an aggressive hound at the throat of a hare. “Of course not!”

You went silent, but eyed him suspiciously as you sat back down. He was too jumpy. Too quick to shut you down. Something was up.

Silence. It was deafening. It filled your mind, flitting and jumping in between traitorous thoughts and excuses for not believing him. It wasn’t the quiet, serene silence. No. It was the kind which upheld tension, almost suffocating when your brain’s buzzing with so many questions.

“Are you hungry?” Seth asked, breaking this silence.

“What?”

Seth? Offering you food? That was new. But then again, everything was new. You’d been gone millennia. He could’ve changed…

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Nevermind. He’s still the same angry sandcat he once was.

“I won’t.” You replied, defiantly.

“Fine.”

“Fine!” You insisted.

“Fine!” He mirrored.

Silence, again. This wasn’t how you wanted to start your day. In fact, you didn’t even feel like staying in his room anymore.

“I’m going out.” You said suddenly, standing up abruptly, getting ready to leave.

“No.” Seth refused.

“What do you mean, no?“ you whipped around to face him.

“I mean no. You’re not leaving. You’re supposed to be under my surveillance, remember?”

Oh great. Just great. This was what you needed. And it only fed your suspicions further. He may have only wanted to help, but knowing Seth…. There was also an ulterior motive.

“Too bad, sandcat.” You answered, heading for the door.

“What did you just call me?” He asked, stopping you in your tracks, his teasing smile gone, like the moon behind a cloud.

“Sandcat. It’s only fair that I get to call you that since you mistook me for that bastard Heh.” You stated, moving towards the exit, again.

“Cute. But still no.” He said coldly.

A wisp of sand coiled around your foot, keeping you pinned. He had. You knew that much. Demigod or no, his control over sand was much too better than any demigod you’ve encountered. That means, someone had granted him a temporary godhood. And you had a few people in mind.

“Seth.” You said firmly. “Let me go.”

He took in a deep breath, rubbing his hand through his long red hair.

“I can’t.”

You knew he couldn’t, for you could finally see the marking on his lower back. A small eye, in a thin circlet of sun rays, representing your one and only Sun god.

“You lied.” You stated.

“I did.” He replied, smirking sadly.

You paused. Your mind spiraling into too many questions and thoughts of betrayal.

“How much?” You asked. “How much do you have to keep me here, for you to gain your whatever he- she promised you?”

Seth went silent, his lips pressing into a thin line, he looked at you, and then at anything but you.

“A fortnight.” He answered.

Shit.

HEYYY GUYS. SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED IN SO LONG, I’ve just been busy with school stuff and catching up on some missing assignments! Hope you enjoyed this part, and I’ll make sure to try and write the next two parts faster!

[riabunn]

weirdcore tower character designs part 3! 👁️🗼

surprise surprise! this batch is a two-in-one!

Thingies are the toppins of weirdcore tower, based off of different objects commonly associated with weirdcore. they are Flower, Mushroom, Smiley, Meat, and Moon. moon is inspired by mac tonight from mcdonald’s

Thing Terrors are the toppin monsters of this au. they reside at an abandoned kids party venue which has games, indoor playgrounds and live performances where the terrors performed. the venue also serves food such as pizza, popcorn and juice, often having weird toppings/ingredients like eyes and teeth. more info on specific terrors: the meat terror is a decapitated butcher with his head replaced with a slab of meat. the decapitation was a HUGE part of the downfall of the kids party venue. the moon terror’s reference to mac tonight is much more evident. instead of shouting DINNAH! he shouts PARTEH!

the fakes and bruno are pretty much the same. clones like them can be glitchy in terms of speech and acts. how much they glitch depend on how stable the clone is. they can do any glitch you can think of that happens in video games. if a clone turns scary, their voice may sound deep and demonic, and/or their eyes bleed out black, and they become glitchier

fake peppino is the same strange goopy frog-acting being as his original version, but despite how he looks, he’s not quite the friendly guy that a lot of fans make him out to be, he’s actually quite terrifying. i imagine him to have a similar goal to RecD’s interpretation of him: HE WANTS PEPPINO ON THE PIZZA. as he’s unstable, he’s glitchy, but not as glitchy as fake ria. like seen near the end of RecD’s PTNE lyric video, he always makes pizza with strange things. PIZZA IS INEVITABLE. YOUR SKIN IS STUFFED CRUST.

the other bruno, can simply be referred as just bruno, this is not the same bruno that was peppino’s mentor. i have a hc that the version of bruno (ill refer him as the real bruno) you see after escaping from fake peppino is the mentor of peppino and passed the torch to him. no one except pizzahead knows what happened to him, which he was used to make fake peppino. in this au, it’s almost the same case, but it’s something very strange and unexplainable on what happened to him. the other version of bruno never actually existed in the waking world as was made by pizzahead’s equivalent (i won’t show him yet) as a pure mockery against peppino and the real bruno, as a caricature showing a message that peppino and the real bruno will never be as perfect as the other bruno. he appears at a liminal abandoned pizzeria still named “Peppino Pizza 2,” as a mural on the wall and an outdoor window. and yes he can still turn scary and become glitchy when he’s like that

fake ria (who’s still not canon, she’s basically never gonna be a canon character) is the same extremely unstable, extremely hostile lizard-acting being. she is one of the most unstable clones, so she is extremely glitchy. just like her og version, she hates pizzahead’s equivalent for not making her as good as fake peppino or bruno. she has the same distorted voice, and her pitch varies even more, her pitch can slide a lot here too

be warned, they are actually not as friendly as they look…

and that’s it for this part! i already know what pizzaface and pizzahead’s equivalents will look like, but i have yet to think of stuff for mr stick, peddito, the doise, pillar john and gerome… maybe i can do bonus characters after i do said characters, such as maurice! see you in the next part!

[anonymousreader4d7]

Hermit-a-day Day 17: Etho!

It's Mr. Slab for Day 17!!!

Etho, in RMAU-Verse, is an Unknown, subspecies Kitsune! As always, you can check out RMAU-Verse for explanations/details

I'm super pleased with my Etho design here. He's still clearly Kakashi-inspired, but he's also clearly his own character too! And he's so fluffy!!!!! But yeah, I really like my Etho here. I think I want his shoulder patches to be maple leaves... (But they were a little small here to really do that, XD)