#but it’s natural. it comes with the territory

[phantasmique]

𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝕴𝖓 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕿𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖍

Summary: Sukuna's heat has finally struck, and despite having a full year to prepare as best as you could, you don't think you'll survive it.

Warnings: 18+ MDI. Sukuna has two cocks because it's canon. Overstimulation, multiple orgasms, a bit of objectification. Possessive behavior.

The entire estate is in a flutter of organized chaos. Every single individual, from the house servants, maids, cooks, and guards all rushing about to get things in order, securing the household and planning for the several weeks ahead that would require a severe sense of tact and delicacy from everyone involved.

It's an annual event. One that is anticipated to arrive in the early summer, the whole of the estate collectively holding their breath as the approximate date looms closer and closer.

Once the fickleness of the spring weather finally shifts, the tepid, pollen perfumed air adjusting to something satiny, humid and warm, you know of what's to come. It never fails to have a nervous flutter stirring in the pit of your gut; excitement and agitation thrumming through your veins.

It's nothing new to you now, having dealt with this exactly four years in a row already, but the suspense of it never truly dims. And the capricious nature of Sukuna's moods doesn't help in that aspect. He's already ornery at the best of times. Testy. Swinging back and forth between that sadistic gloating of his and a terrifying kind of aggression or indifference. But when his . . . heat (he hates when it's addressed as such) approaches, he becomes horrifically combative - even more so, if that's at all possible.

Wildly territorial. His many eyes always subtly shifting, scanning his surroundings for a possible intruder. As though anyone would be foolish enough to sneak into the dwelling of the King of Curses.

Not even his own servants are safe from his increased aggression. Many of them have fallen in the past. Cut down and dismembered for making the mistakes of treading too closely to his chambers. It costed many of them their heads and all of them their lives.

As such, they are all forbidden from entering the northern side of the estate in its entirety, lest they pass within his sight. A gruesome death would certainly befall them. And so they remain tucked within the safety of the servants' quarters, hidden away until his heat finally breaks.

The only individual offered a shred of immunity is Uraume, who is still charged with their duties of delivering breakfast and dinner to Sukuna's chambers. Staying only long enough to supply the meal and not a moment longer.

Though you can't say that everyone is banished from his presence. You wouldn't go as far as to say that you're the reason for the escalation of his hostility and possessiveness, those are all traits that have always been natural to him, but it's clear that it's all magnified because of you.

He becomes protective in a way that should be concerning. Demanding that you remain at his side through all hours, keeping you secure within his quarters and curled on the bedding, bathed in his scent.

It's a grueling two weeks for you. Your mortal body forced to withstand his ceaseless stamina and lust for long stretches, day and night bleeding into each other in a blur smeared with sweat and a torturous bliss.

You're forbidden from leaving his quarters when he's in this state. Lest he become horridly unsettled, pacing around with a snarl. Teeth glinting, pale and lethal, glimmering along with the scarlet flash of his eyes, wide and hyper-vigilant in a search for the possibility of a threat. Of a rival.

He loses himself to those baser instincts. Possessed by the primal urges to keep you hidden, tucked away and protected, pinned beneath his body while he takes you for all you're worth.

You do your best to brace for it. To mentally prepare for the weeks that you'll spend stowed away within his chambers, held to his body as he grips you close with talons and greedy fingers. But no matter how much you try, you're never truly able to poise yourself for the magnitude of his lust.

You had told yourself that this time would be different. You have years of experience under you now. You should have built up the endurance required in that time. You should be able to handle it. Handle him.

How wrong you were.

He's going to kill you.

There's no way that you'll possibly be able to survive this.

It's brutal. Ceaseless. He's using your body as though it's an object. An instrument to get himself off. The massive width of his hands clasping onto you to keep you pinned and trapped in place on his lap, two of them spanned around your hips, another keeping your wrists locked behind your back.

It renders you immobile. Not that you'd be able to move regardless. You think you've gone limp by now. Boneless as he uses the hold he has on your hips to lift you up and down on his cocks. Reducing you to little more than a doll for him to drive himself into; a lewd, wet noise sounding out each time your hips meet, the damp smack of skin on skin echoing out in your ears with every thrust.

You're so full. Both of your holes stretched wide and gaping around his girth, his cocks buried so deep inside of you that you swear you can feel him in your chest, knocking you breathless. The both of them only separated by a thin wall of muscle, and you can feel them gliding against each other.

He's stuffed you with so much cum already, filling your stomach, you swear that it's making you swollen with it. So full that it's begun to drip from your pussy and ass, smearing down your thighs and spilling as he drives himself into you. Determined to give you another load - the third? The fourth? You honestly don't know anymore.

It's impossible to keep track. The pleasure keeps rolling over you, all but clawing and tearing through your body and limbs like one singular wave. You aren't sure if your orgasms are bleeding into each other, connecting together to build into a long stretch of blinding pleasure, or if he's simply just making you cum before you can fully realize it. Playing your body like an instrument.

It's torture. It's bliss. You want it to stop. You never want it to end.

You can't tell visually that your eyes are rolling, your sight ruined by the tears blurring around the edges, but you can feel them slipping back into your skull. The massive tongue lolling out past the mouth that yawns open on his stomach is just as cruel as the rest of him, lashing and lapping at your swollen clit.

It has the breath in your lungs snagging, your voice breaking as he continues to wring your body of every ounce of pleasure it might have; thighs shaking from the onslaught.

"Sukuna - fuck-"

"What a good little pet you are," he praises. His free hand lifts, fingers grasping your chin to keep your head from falling back uselessly on its neck, forcing you to make eye contact. It's difficult to through the tears, and the pleasure licking up your spine, eating at your bones and turning your mind into something blank threatens to have them rolling back again, but you will yourself to keep them open.

"So well behaved and useless. It makes me wonder what your fellow sorcerers would think if they could see you now, all pliant and obedient on my lap. But you don't even care about that anymore, do you?"

Truthfully, you don't. Your sense of pride has long since dissolved in that regard. It was broken down by him, by your own twisted fascination and attraction for him. You can't find it in yourself to be bothered by all of those old ideals and constructs that had held you back before, keeping you from admitting such a truth to yourself.

You don't care if it makes you weak, or foolish, you'd gladly admit your devotion to him, to sorcerers, and to the entirety of humanity.

You know that it pleases him to see you so willing and docile under his control, a talented sorcerer in your own right turning you back on your heritage in favor of him.

Always eager to satisfy him, you find yourself nodding your head as best as you can, fighting against the slack muscles in your neck and the firm grip he has on your jaw; the points of his talons dragging along your flesh.

His grin is more of a snarl, all teeth and arrogance. Combined with the fervent want in his eyes, he looks feral. His pupils are blown wide, black pits swallowing up rings of burning, violent red; the dark of it reflecting the dim lighting like an animal's. It makes you feel like prey. Wounded and vulnerable, pinned between rows of honed teeth.

It should be embarrassing - demeaning how your body flushes with warmth in response, holes clenching tightly around his cocks as though they mean to trap him inside.

He notices of course. You can tell by the way that his grin somehow stretches even wider, further exposing those sharp fangs that you love so much. There's blood tainted between his teeth, a reminder of the marks that he had previously carved along your neck and shoulders, branding himself in your skin.

It's going to take you weeks to recover, for the inevitable soreness in your muscles to finally fade, for the wounds scattered along your neck and thighs to seal over, but you can't be bothered to be worried about it. A part of you relishes the sting of it. The fire that's settled into your sinew and bones. You want it.

"Mmm, you smell like me." He muses, leaning his head down just enough to lick the length of your throat, leaving a trail of scorching heat behind. The wounds along the junction of your neck ache when his tongue lashes over them, making your eyelashes flutter, a soft moan spilling past your lips.

He groans. A low, guttural sound that echoes heavily in his chest and skirts over your own body. It's a pleased noise, as though he's satisfied by the taste of your blood in his mouth; his scent smeared over your heated flesh as though it's your own.

A buried, distant half of you fleetingly worries that he might actually take a real bite out of you. That he might unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. More concerning is that you'd let him.

The mouth parting his stomach open acts as though it certainly might do just that, the long length of it scaling down your abdomen, tasting the salt on your skin. The tip of it taking greedy swipes at your clit, trailing down to worm itself between where your hips join to trace where his cock stretches your pussy open around its length.

His rhythm hasn't faltered in the slightest. Hasn't stuttered or slowed. A testament to his abnormal stamina as he continues to work you closer and closer to that inevitable high.

You don't know if you can handle another one. Every facet of you already feels as though it's been lit alight, nerves searing and tender from the other highs that he's already pulled from your body. But you know that there's no chance that he's going to stop now.

He's already avaricious when it comes to dealing out pleasure, often not for your benefit, but because he's such a sadist when it comes to it. Finding a twisted sort of delight when he sees tears crystalizing in your eyes; your voice hitching into breathless whines and moans.

And now that he's in this state, driven mad and hedonistic by the instinctual urge to breed you and leave you plugged full and wet with his cum, you know that he isn't going to stop until you're damn near catatonic. Gone dumb and limp.

And you can already feel your mind slipping. Glazing over, turning cloudy and dim. You feel split. Somehow distant, floating away from yourself and yet completely grounded. Encased in your muscle and the ecstasy ravaging your nerves, consuming you entirely. Somehow outside of yourself and smothered all at once.

It's all him now. The warmth radiating off of him and melting into you; the scent of him lacing the air, all dark and musk; the shape of his cock driving through your cunt, splitting you open and carving a place for himself. Repeatedly hammering against the spot inside of you that has your spine bowing and your voice falling silent in the base of your throat.

"So pretty and dumb, and all mine. Isn't that right?"

In any other context, that old sense of frustration and anger that you had once felt might have risen up, stirred deep in your stomach, playing along the fringes of your mind like an old phantom. But now, such a response seems impossible now. It is impossible.

It takes all of your strength to properly respond. Battling to form a coherent thought as he continues to roll his hips up into you. As though he's intentionally trying to make you struggle.

"I think I'll keep you like this." He grins wide, baring his teeth with a crazed glimmer burning fiercely in his eyes. "Stuffed full of my cock and dripping. I won't stop until it's pouring out of you. You'll give me an heir, won't you?"

You find yourself nodding again. Too fucked out to complain that you're already filled to the brim. His previous loads smearing down your thighs and gushing with each heavy thrust. Spilling out of you and staining the bedding.

But his enthusiasm hasn't wavered in the slightest. If anything, it's increased. His lust blazing through him white hot; both of his cocks still rigid, stretching you out to your limits. Bullying you open. You can feel the veins that trail down the length of both his cocks stroking along the walls of your cunt and ass.

It's all so much. Searing and blurring, weightless, filthy, euphoric.

You hardly have time to register that your eyes are rolling. That your body is seizing up tight, and then you're cumming. It lashes through you like a bolt of lightning streaking through the night sky, scorching. Crackling and wild.

You think you're screaming but you aren't sure. It's too difficult to tell past the blood roaring in your ears. Your heartbeat thrumming like a war drum as you gasp and jerk on his lap. But he's ruthless. He doesn't give you a break, doesn't let you breathe.

His grip on your body is firm. Clutching your hips as he continues to spear you on his cocks. Using you to tip him closer towards his own release.

His chest shudders with a heavy groan, his fingers flexing in a bruising grip on your skin and then you feel it - a liquid heat spreading through your stomach, filling you up and you swear that your abdomen stretches from it. The abnormal amount of his cum and the width of his cocks filling your body up its limit.

Twin tears slip down your cheeks when you realize that his pace hasn't faltered. He's still humping his cocks into you. Rolling himself to the hilt, as deeply as he can possibly go like he's trying to force his cum in as far as it'll go.

Your back arches almost painfully. Your body flinching as he grinds his hips into yours, trapping the tongue spilling from that inhuman mouth between your pelvises where it rubs cruelly on your clit. You're split down the middle, torn between the desire to jerk away and to shift closer to the feel of it - electric and bliss.

You want to cry out. A scream lodged in your throat, but you can't force it out. All you can do is take it.

"You didn't think that I'd be satisfied just by that, did you?" He grins down at you again with something malicious burning in his eyes. He leans towards you then, opening his mouth to let his tongue spill past his fangs. It's wet and hot as it trails up the side of your face, licking up the salt from your tears. He purrs like it satisfies him.

It's merciless, the pleasure coiling through your body, slicing up your muscles like molten bands. It's like he's devouring you from the inside out. Hollowing out your insides and replacing it with himself.

You're floating miles above your body, losing sight of the world around you. All you can focus on is him. His scent, his taste, the feel of his skin, the tongue still ravaging your clit, the cocks stuffing you full.

And then he's speaking in your ear in a husky tone that settles in the air like smoke. "We're only getting started."

[criminally-chill]

Accidental date

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Category: Fluff

———————————

Emily Prentiss sat at a quiet corner table in a cozy, candle-lit restaurant, her nerves humming with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. Blind dates were rare territory, but Garcia had been insistent. “Trust me, Em,” she’d said, “you need this!”

She looked up just in time to see a woman approaching her table. With warm eyes, an easy smile, and a relaxed confidence, she gave Emily a smile that immediately put her at ease.

“Hi,” the woman greeted with a friendly nod. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Emily replied with a smile as they settled in. The conversation flowed with surprising ease. Y/N turned out to be a doctor, and her hospital stories ranged from hilarious to deeply moving, each one told with warmth and a hint of humor that kept Emily smiling.

At one point, after Y/N finished a story about a hospital mix-up, Emily chuckled, shaking her head. “This is exactly what I needed tonight. Leave it to Garcia to set me up with someone so interesting.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Garcia?”

Emily grinned. “Yeah, my friend. She practically dragged me here, swearing I’d have a great time.”

Y/N let out a laugh. “That’s funny. My friend Dr. Robins convinced me to come. She said I needed a break and knew someone I’d hit it off with.”

They both paused, exchanging a surprised look as the realization dawned on them.

“So… you’re not here because of Garcia?” Emily asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Nope. And you’re definitely not here because of Dr. Robins, right?”

They both burst into laughter, the unexpected mix-up somehow making the night even more enjoyable. They leaned in a little closer as they continued talking, each exchange revealing a deeper connection and a natural chemistry between them.

By the time they left the restaurant, the night air had turned chilly, and a brisk wind swept down the empty street. Emily shivered slightly, folding her arms.

Without a second thought, Y/N shrugged off her jacket and held it out to Emily. “Here, take this. Can’t let you freeze after such a good accidental date.”

Emily hesitated for a moment before smiling gratefully and slipping it on. “Thank you. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun on a first… well, not-quite-a-date.”

Y/N chuckled. “Accidental or not, it was definitely one of the better nights I’ve had. And since it’s my fault for keeping you out this late, at least let me walk you home.”

They walked side by side through the quiet streets, shoulders brushing occasionally. As they talked and laughed, the atmosphere between them felt lighter, like they’d known each other much longer than just one evening.

When they reached Emily’s apartment, she paused at her door, turning to Y/N with a warm smile. “So… accidental date or not, I’d love to do this again. On purpose next time.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, her smile widening. “I’d like that,” she murmured, holding Emily’s gaze.

As the night stretched in silence, neither seemed in a rush to say goodbye. Y/N gently squeezed Emily’s hand, and Emily gave it a light squeeze in return, a warm feeling blooming in her chest.

“Goodnight, Emily,” Y/N said softly, a smile lingering on her lips as she turned to leave.

Emily watched her go, still wrapped in Y/N’s jacket, already looking forward to the next time they’d see each other — a date they would plan very much on purpose.

[eclipse-has-come]

- Every step you take, I'll be watching you

part 1

A/N: Hello, I’m back with another part! Once again, i have no beta reader and i’m not a native english speaker so there might be some weird mistakes 😭 This chapter is mostly John’s past and his feelings about reader! I thought it was important to see things from his perspective, i hope you enjoy! Warnings: There are desriptions of murder, guns and war in this chapter (but that kinda comes with the territory). John might come off as a bit creepy but he's just a lonely guy :(( also parasocial relationship vibes

When John Price first died, he didn’t even realise what had happened until he heard his footman’s yell. Poor Kyle, seeing his captain with a bullet between his eyes must’ve been quite the traumatic experience.

Price wasn’t expecting the general to go this far but- well, he was playing with fire wasn’t he? Three years ago, in 1857, when the rebellion started, the queen sent out her best soldiers. John was included in the bunch. Loyal to the crown as he was, he rushed to battle, defending his country.

During his service, he got acquainted with three other men who were unfortunate enough (they wouldn’t agree with that statement) to be placed under his command. Simon Riley (a man so mysterious that one could even call him a ghost), John Mactavish (a Scottish warrior with a loud disposition) and Kyle Garrick (a young man looking to prove himself). The four of them bonded, ‘brothers in arms’ - that’s what Mactavish called them anyway.

Half a year into their service, a skirmish changed the trajectory of their lives forever. General Shepherd’s poor decision led to Johnny (“Aye, with the two of us, one of you’s bound to make a mistake callin’ us nae? Call me Johnny!”) getting heavily injured. ‘Two days’ the medics said, that’s how much the poor man had to live. 

In the end, he spent two months in the nurse’s care.

By some miracle the bullet just grazed his skull. Captain John Price didn’t consider himself particularly hotheaded, better to be patient and make calculated choices than to end up with regrets or a bullet through his heart. He was raised to be obedient so even as a child John had great respect for and would never dare to deliberately disobey his superiors. This, however, was a step too far - even for him.

For the first time in his life, Price cut his strings and made his own choice.

When Johnny was cleared by the nurses, they did not join Shepherd back on the battlefield. Instead, John took his men and sailed back to Britain. All of them received a less-than-happy letter from the General but it was easy to ignore (at first) with how peaceful their life got.

Simon took on the role of the cook, his previous experience of being a butcher making him quite an extraordinary fit for the role. His dishes would make anyone salivate, they were always perfectly seasoned and prepared, Kyle would say that Simon makes meals fit for the queen.

Johnny became the Head Gardener, as the injury caused him too much trouble to do anything physically taxing. Everything man made was either too loud or too bright, so the peacefulness of nature was a great reprieve. So with the help of the Scot, the desolate and grey garden soon took on a new look, filled with lush greenery and colourful flowers.

With his need to please and earn praise, Kyle made a wonderful footman. He knew John’s schedule down to the smallest details, such as only taking his tea at 7:06 sharp or refusing to eat anything other than an English breakfast as his first meal of the day. He would accompany his lord on any outings, his handsome looks and open nature made it easy for him to strike up new connections or better deals.

Price would never admit it but he had grown quite fond of his men. He had accepted that he would never have a family back when he first joined the army (what woman would wish to live in constant uncertainty?) so when the boys came along, he felt as if he suddenly gained three sons he never would have expected to have. The once too-quiet-and-empty halls took on a life of their own and everywhere you went you’d hear Scottish yells or quiet grunts.

That happiness- it made him soft. Too soft, so much so that he failed to realise just how fucked he truly was. Turns out Shepherd wasn’t too happy with just sending them a few scolding words. No, the general was much too cruel to let them off easy.

The fog was heavy the morning It happened. When John lit his cigar by the window, he couldn’t see anything but grey for miles; Kyle knocked on his door and informed him that breakfast was served. The routine went as usual, thus it made the next thing that happened even more shocking.

When Price sat down at his desk ready to read the newspaper in peace, he was greeted by a gun at the back of his head.

“John.”

He recognised the voice immediately.

“General” Putting down the paper gently, he folded his hands on his lap. He heard the perpetrator behind him grip the gin tighter.

“You couldn’t have truly expected to get away with it- right?” Shepherd paused, as if contemplating what’s left to say. “You were better than this John.”

Price merely hummed, not willing to entertain the other man. “We both were”

“If you want to beg for your life, go ahead, I’ll gladly wait.” 

Price let out an amused huff.

“Wouldn’t do me any good.”

The general stayed quiet and raised his gun higher; John heard a loud shot and then-

Silence.

-

His funeral was beautiful, his boys made sure of it. The only ones present were them but still, that was more than enough. The coffin was surrounded by flowers, John laughed about the fact that it was probably the first time he ever received any.

His first week as a ghost consisted of him following his men, making sure the estate was in good hands. They took their duties seriously, sometimes they even spoke to him as if he were there with them. He always replied but- well, no one ever heard him.

When the boys started getting older, he would try to make their lives easier. Move the cane closer to Johnny’s bed while he sleeps, rattling the cupboard to make sure Simon remembers to take his pills or even picking up items since Kyle can barely bend down with his bad back.

He knew they couldn’t see him but they still thanked him out loud every time. It’s as if they could feel his presence, as if they knew he was there, watching over them. His heart was happy and when their time came, he waited with bated breath for them to join him but-

They never did.

Price was left alone. His men moved on but he couldn’t seem to do the same; and with them gone, his purpose was lost too. He spent years occupying the empty home, thinking of a solution. 

No one bought his home after the late soldiers departed from this world, he wondered whether that was because of who it belonged to or just because of the sorry state it was in after the boys died.

Years of lone walks and no one to talk with made John realise that being a ghost was plain lonely. He felt miserable wandering the empty halls and knowing that he might never see his close friends again made it even more difficult. 

Losing track of time proved easy in such a desolate building. His only companions were bugs crawling on the walls and his own thoughts, he had no way of keeping up with the world. Not that he really wanted to, his time had been over for a long, long time.

Finally, after an unknown number of years, a man and his family joined him in his residence. He overheard that it was now 1939 and a second World War started (there was a first one?). John’s first instinct was to pack up and fight but- he wouldn’t be much help in his state. He could already imagine bullets passing straight through him and hitting some poor sod behind him.

John watched as the head of the family left for war, wishing it was him instead as the wife and son cried after him. The scene broke his heart and he knew that if he had gotten married and started a family, this is what it would have looked like. He knew he made the right choice to not start one back then, as he could never imagine himself leaving his hypothetical wife and child behind. 

In the end, the man never came back. John was the sole man to witness the son grow up, start his own family and continue the legacy.

Time passed and before Price knew, he had witnessed generations live and die in his home. He didn’t know how much he missed the hustle and bustle in his home until it came back. The chains around his heart lightened their load when he heard the giggles of children and conversation in the kitchen.

Over the years, he tried to subtly signal his presence to the different residents of his home but all of them were met with fear or disbelief and so, he stopped. He would rather have the families be comfortable and unaware of him than be left alone again, his heart couldn’t take it. 

The years passed, the world was slowly growing too unrecognisable for John. New inventions seemed to appear every day but he could still barely comprehend the existence of phones (and they were invented back in his time!).

The latest owner of his building was the lone descendant of the poor lad who never came back from war, a grumpy old man (who rivalled even John with his impressive moustache) that was convinced the house was haunted. He wasn’t wrong of course but John didn’t purposely make his presence known so it was curious that the elderly gentleman was sure of his existence.

He rarely visited because of that fact, causing the place to slowly grow into poor condition. Mold-covered walls and broken floorboards was an everyday sight now, which saddened Price greatly. Although the residence hadn’t been truly his for a long time, he was still the one that built it; and he would much rather see it fall into capable hands than to grow into disarray.

His silent fuming seemed to have been answered when a lone woman entered through the front door one day. Still young but too old to be the old man's grandchild, so who was she? Price was both curious and cautious, as the owner hadn’t visited for a while before her arrival.

The beginning of their relationship (if you could even call it that) was rocky, to say the least. 

At first, John was convinced she was a squatter and was determined to run her out, scaring her by creaking the stairs and pushing objects off of tables and desks (he did however feel a smidge of guilt when something shattered in one of the boxes he nudged; he was taught to never disrespect women's belongings after all).

It was only after she bought the paint and tools, that he realized what was really happening. The poor girl had bought his home and was intending to renovate it back to its original state. Instantly his guilt skyrocketed to insane heights, never before had he felt this embarrassed for misjudging a person. 

John had a new mission now: to help the wonderful lady as much as he can; starting with trying to assist her with her projects. What John didn't expect is the he seemed to fumble like a school boy with a crush. The woman was beautiful, with her lively eyes and quiet remarks. He particularly enjoyed her habit of talking to herself, it made him feel as if he was a part of this, as if he was real, at least to her. 

His crush admiration caused him to become soft for her, evident in his inability to focus. When he tried to move the heavy paint can closer to the wall, he got his foot stuck in the handle and proceeded to fling the whole thing on the wall while trying to get it out- not his proudest moment, he admits. He was even more embarrassed when the lady seemed discouraged after seeing the mess.

After a few more tries which ended in disaster (lodging a stray pebble into the front window- plus a few others he'd rather not name), he decided that his attempts to help her were only making her life harder. He ceased his unhelpful ministrations and decided to observe her progress, silently encouraging her.

She made quick work of the place and before he knew it, the first floor turned into a cozy antique (well, modern to Price) store. John walked through the aisles of beautiful trinkets, they reminded him so much of his previous life and how it used to be.

He didn't realise it until now but he missed his past more than he thought; years of loneliness made him numb to just how good he had it and what he lost.

This quiet epiphany gave him food for thought, about how he didn't wish to be alone once more. Sure, the families filled the home but they didn’t truly care (or even know) about him. He wanted someone to acknowledge his presence, to treat him like a person and not a silent observer.

He wanted it to be her.

The woman who stumbled her way into the empty house and made it her own, she didn’t know it but it meant so much to him. Over the months of her getting used to the new environmet, he had grown fond of her quirky nature. He didn’t even know her name and yet, he knew exactly how she took her tea or how much time she spends on laundry since she doesn’t enjoy doing it.

He felt a bit guilty that she was unaware of his silent observation but his happiness outweighed that. Besides, he would apologise to her soon enough.

He won't- no, he can't take another hundred years of loneliness. He promised himself he wouldn't interfere with her affairs anymore but the urge is too strong. She wormed her way into his head and heart with her endearing determination and kind eyes. He knows she’d make a good friend.

He made his move a week later. The poor lady was tired after seven days of hard work ('That should be your husband's job Darlin’.’ he thought to himself) and decided to enjoy a nice hot shower. Now, John is nothing but a gentleman; sure, he might be entering a woman's bathroom but it's for a good cause! He’ll make it up to her anyway.

He had been selfless his whole life: serving his queen and putting his men's safety above his. His afterlife was the same, consisting of helping his home's tennants and being a quiet observer. He was done pretending to live in the past, living in the moment is all that matters to him now. His whole life he wanted to have a domestic life but his sense of responsibility wouldn’t let him commit to anything other than war.

John is tired; tired of being a leader, tired of being a mere trick of the eye and most importantly, tired of being alone.

He just hopes the kind woman will see it that way too, he thinks to himself as he writes on the fogged up mirror.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Plant Monsters

There’s something so sinister about Plant Monsters. Whether it’s those of the carnivorous variety or more of the spiritual protector kind–plant monsters are meant to be feared, and respected. As the most sentient of Mother Nature’s creations, they are nothing to scoff at whether you’re a mere villager or a royal knight set to travel through their territory. Even more so when they have no intentions on harming a hair on your head.

Somehow it’s just expected that the Dryad is going to be troublesome. Maybe in the beginning they were set to kill you but something about you has them holding back their violent instinct to protect the forest. These types are weirdly enough pretty disconnected from the forest. Not that they don’t feel the very seasons within their roots kind of disconnected. The kind of disconnected that allows them to easily abandon their place in the ecosystem–allowed them to become the predator or prey they’d like to be. 

It’s a compelling role for Dryads. Meaning, that Flower Type Dryads are free to leave the forest to follow you into the village. They’ll stand out sure but in the end, they’re free to follow you without restriction. They might annoy you into letting them in with their bright-colored petals and their soft small statures. They could get muscles to woo you but what would be the point when you’re already protecting them as your self-proclaimed fragile flower? You won’t refuse them when they offer to put their piston in your stamen and it doesn’t matter if you have a stamen or not they don’t care. All they care about is that you’ll always be right beside them so that you both can bloom together. Of course, there are plenty of predators that would try to stomp on the blossom of your love but you didn’t think the petals were just meant to look pretty, did you? Mother Nature is a strong believer in letting the most gorgeous of flowers have something to defend themselves with. Whether that’s a fruit they can make, a thorn they can unsheathe, or a small secretion meant to paralyze if consumed, Flower Type Dryads are demure and sweet and believe they deserve a life with you even if it means ending another’s if need be.

As cute and soft as the Flower Type may be, it’d be folly to forget the Carnivorous Type Dryads. Those who prefer not to leave the forest, choose the predator option within the forest. Luring their prey into their clutches to feast on the flesh and blood of whoever was foolish enough to fall into their trap. With their roots deeply into the ground, the carnivorous type isn’t usually one to move, which makes their desire for you all the more agonizing. Having to catch a glimpse of you through the foliage just out of their range is the closest they’ll get to you. There’s no guarantee for them that you’ll stay when they plea for help or that you’ll come to the sweet voice calling out to you. Just out of their range, you may be safe from the reaching vines and barbed arms they are dying to wrap around you. They have to rely on your compassion and wavering skepticism to get you like they want. Such great communicators they may very well be honest with you about not planning to eat you or perhaps they might prefer to threaten you with the lives of passersby on the path your family takes. There’s always a desperate sense of complete abandon to get you to drink their addictive nectar or to take their…seeds and be the perfect extension. There’s no question that without you transporting them in a giant pot they are forced to lure obstacles of their love…or they’ve begun to expand and evolve so that they can devour all who get in their way. Not including you of course! Don’t be scared. They’d hate to have to stick you with their own paralyzing agent. 

Speaking of sticking, the Plant Monsters that are less easy to spot because they are small or almost as human-like as you are the Faes and Fairies. Faes are only as different as they want you to see; masters of illusion and trickery all they need is your name before they can truly have all of you. They get close to you, hinging on the allure of the forest and fauna to be a mysterious traveler bound to be more. They don’t mind if you’re steadfast about not sharing your name they’re just happy to lend their magic to make you smile. To make you swoon because they’re conveniently everything you can hope for in a person of interest. Agreeing with all the topics you spoke about in confidence to your animal companion, they’re just so perfect! They don’t even mind that you won’t tell them your name they’re more than happy to keep calling you  Celtic nicknames of endearment. And they figure if you won’t give them your name they’ll give you theirs so that your souls are bound together for all eternity. They are ancient beings full of wisdom, and sage thoughts that will allow them to chain you to them lovingly aid you in whatever you hope to do in life. Not to forget the centuries devoted to weaponry and building immunity to various medical ailments, which will come in handy when they have to defend their dearest love! The Fae, though madly in love with you, is far beyond your comprehension and somehow is intertwined with the forest. You will never fully grasp how deep their connection is even when you are bound to their side for the rest of your newly immortal life.

Another with a mystifying connection to the forest is Fairies. Similar to their cousins they are known for their love for mischief and trickery. But instead of goading you for your name they’ll invite you into a fairy circle. Mythically crafted dimension full of partying and endless fun; all you have to do is eat the food and the deed is done. Everyone can never tell exactly what happens after you’ve eaten their delicacies. Some say you become a hypnotized servant, others claim you’ll be trapped within their circle for the rest of your days. Even if you befriend the flittering fiend, they’d never tell! Giggling behind their little hands and their round cheeks as they enjoy your puzzled expression. If you are wise enough not to fall into the circle a fairy won’t be deterred, more than willing to deploy an arsenal of different tactics to get your affections. Whether they rely on their charisma or the destitute life you live—a devoted fairy will not give up. Shrinking, tripping, cursing, inflicting all sorts of harrowing spells to leave you weak in the knees and perfect for the taking. Unlike their human-disguising cousins, they won’t bother to lie about their actions, proudly puffing their chest as you cry over a forward companion. The Fairy isn’t afraid to laugh as your words slur after eating a treat they’d made for you. They don’t even think for once that there’s such a thing as right or wrong, considering this is their nature. It’s right because they're doing it and it’s useless to protest with a silly notion of logic.

While Fairies may be devoid of logic the Druid is not. Likely a human or elf or even a misplaced ogre. They are truly the connection between humans and Mother Nature it’s a beautiful bond, a sacred pact that outshines everything in their life. Everything except you that is. They may worry that your presence would compromise this relationship with Nature because you consumed them. Eating away at the sanity they had left to think only of you. Even more frightening they’ve already used their power to strangle someone that dared to compliment you. It’s getting worse. The Druid knows it’s madness–their need to protect overreaching inexplicably past normal boundaries. They can’t see parallels in the mating lives of animals, no (pure) example crafted by Mother Nature does what they do. But they reason that Mother Nature in some roundabout way must approve, for they replay how you regarded them with such affection when they first met you. Not when they first joined your troupe at the guild but when they transformed into a helpless feline that was hesitant of your touch. Suddenly they are leaning into the marvelous sensation of your compassionate pets. The Druid, despite being the liaison of Nature and intelligence are helpless in the wake of their feelings for you. 

I guess the most sinister thing about Yandere Plant-Related Creatures is that there’s something inherently right in whatever they decide to do. After all for as long as humanity has existed and even long before that nature and animals have thrived following only the bare instincts they’re born with. And what part of that doesn’t include doing whatever it takes to get what they want?

[pokemonshelterstories]

What's better as a pet, Maschiff or Mabostiff? I want to travel to Paldea to adopt one, though most of what I've read suggests that Mabostiff is actually gentler/calmer than it's pre-evolution. I'd see you work with Maschiffs sometimes, so I'd love to hear your thoughts on this before making a decision!

it really depends on what kind of household you have and where you live!

maschiff are really great for people who live in more crowded areas. they're playful, energetic pokemon, and with proper training and socialization they can tolerate and even come to enjoy strangers. they can be nervous pokemon, but not so much that it becomes a behavioral issue so long as you are prepared for it and know how to build a pokemon's confidence through training. the main thing is to not let anyone harass him when he shows signs that he doesn't like something. so many of the maschiff we get in the shelter are described as mean when really they're used to people thinking their signals that they want to be left alone are funny. but while they have a reputation for being reactive, it's really the result of poor training.

mabosstiff are much more low-key pokemon in terms of exercise, and they're beloved as family pets for their calm and protective nature, especially around children. however, they need a lot more space on account of their size- and they don't make good pokemon to keep if you have neighbors or plan to take your pokemon out to parks or on hikes or whatnot. they are immensely territorial and protective pokemon that don't tolerate strangers. you really cannot let them meet new people at your house at all, and even introducing them on neutral ground can be difficult. their first instinct is to protect their group, and they can store up so much energy in their dewlap that even a warning bite can cause severe injury to a human or other pokemon. most mabosstiff out here in paldea live on farms and act as guard dogs for flocks of mareep or for families living in remote areas. they're wonderful pokemon for their family group, but you need to be fairly isolated if you don't want to risk any incidents.

[letsquestjess]

The Bad Batch and Crushes (TBB x GN!Reader)

Summary: The Batch have a crush on you, and want to tell you how they feel.

Warnings: None.

-- -- -- -- --

Hunter

Hunter gets fussy when he develops a crush, even more so than when he is around his siblings. Throughout the day, he will check up on you, asking if you need anything, if you slept well, and find any excuse to be in your presence. You often chuckle at his worrying of you, and you assure him you’re fine, but the one time you gently lay your hand on his arm while reassuring him, his heart skips a beat and he freezes. You’re a little too busy to notice, but Hunter is having a profound moment of realisation. He has a crush on you and there is nothing he can do to change it. 

The situation had come to a point where he wished to get everything out in the open, but he wasn’t sure. You were fleeing the Empire, and it wasn’t exactly the most opportune moment for any kind of romantic involvement. However, the more he considered the circumstances, the more he understood there may never be a perfect moment. He resolved to tell you when you were next alone. It took several weeks before the opportunity arose, when the team made repairs outside the ship and the two of you were tasked with monitoring the cockpit readings and ensuring that none of the levels ventured into dangerous territory. Despite his doubts and nervousness urging him to reconsider, he overcame them and began the conversation as smoothly as he could. As he relaxed, talk flowed, and he shared some amusing remarks he knew would make you smile. When he confessed his crush, he anxiously observed your reaction, hoping you wouldn’t pull away or reject him. Much to his relief and surprise, you confessed you felt the same way and had secretly wondered how long it would take for him to realise your affection for him. 

Echo

Echo has had crushes on others in the past, particularly during his early days as an ARC trooper, but what he feels for you is more than just a crush. He always manages to bring a smile to your face and ensures you have a drink and regular meals. He takes to sharing things with you he knows will make you happy, such as books, holo-movies, and artwork that reminds him of you. 

While you were assisting him with the dishes after dinner one evening, he inquired if you had eaten enough and offered to make you a dessert if you wanted some. He rambled a little, asking if you’d had enough to drink and if there was something specific that you might like. Jokingly, you remarked that with how attentive he was, anybody would think he had a crush on you. He posed the question of how you would respond if he told you he did, speaking hypothetically, of course, but his serious tone suggested this was anything but speculative. You were caught off guard because you’ve been interested in Echo for quite some time. Assuming your silence meant rejection, he kindly reassured you that there was no pressure to respond. He couldn’t understand why he said what he did... and then you confessed your feelings for him as well. He made an attempt at three different sentences, each one faltering as his mind caught up with what you had said. When it finally sank in, he made sure you were certain. Without a single second of hesitation, you gave him a bashful nod and the two of you spent the rest of the evening discussing your feelings and making the decision to embark on a relationship.

Wrecker

Wrecker does not do subtlety. He tries, but it’s just not in his nature. He enjoys being near you and despite the teasing from his brothers, he will happily take any chance to assist you, all while making you laugh until your sides hurt. His only desire is to see you smile. He is interested in a relationship with you, and has often wondered what it would be like, but he is unsure about your wishes in that area and is afraid of making you uncomfortable.

There came a time when you began to notice what was going on. You suspected Wrecker’s crush on you, Crosshair and Hunter had both confirmed as much, but you wanted to hear it from the man himself. In truth, you also liked him, and you couldn’t keep evading the subject. You made sure that you were both alone before you asked him if he might have a crush on you. Despite feeling sheepish, he was completely honest and admitted that he did. Before you could respond, he hurriedly reassured you it was all right if you didn’t feel the same way and that he valued your friendship above any romantic feelings he might have. Seeing the sweet relief on his face upon learning that you felt the same way about him, you couldn’t help but pull him into a tight embrace. A true romantic at heart, Wrecker instantly squeezed you back and nuzzled against your hair. Get ready for the most enchanting relationship you’ve ever experienced, because all he wants to do now is fill every single one of your days with love.

Crosshair

This man despises having a crush. It’s not just about the uncertainty of the other person reciprocating his feelings, but also about his own internal struggle. He convinces himself that you will never feel the same, that he is not suitable for you, that you deserve someone better, and he starts to spiral. 

It was definitely a surprise when he suddenly revealed his feelings. Following an extended period on the ship, you both decided to take a walk, wandering in complete silence. He was often quiet, but not to this extent. You checked he was okay, and the words poured out of him with no restraint. Before allowing any more negative thoughts to persuade him he had no chance with you, he had to remove them from his mind and get a clear answer. Despite being taken aback by the confession, you reassured him you shared the same feelings, but hesitated to say anything before because you were unsure about his feelings. The slight chuckle he gave you was raspy and low, but it was so wonderfully him you couldn’t help but smile. After spending the evening by a crystal-clear river, the two of you decided to take your budding relationship one step at a time and venture into that unknown together.

Tech

Tech doesn’t really notice his feelings for you until one specific moment, when you are assisting him with a project and make him laugh with a clever comment. It’s like a light switch goes on in his head and every thought is occupied by you. He attempts to focus on the amusing tale you’re sharing, but he finds himself captivated by the way your lips move and the subtle gestures you make while speaking, and he desperately needs to hold you. Damn, he wants this feeling forever. 

He kept it locked away for a long while. It was not practical and could jeopardise your safety. He was a fugitive clone evading the Empire, his situation couldn’t have been more dangerous. However, he had a genuine affection for you. You provided him with a sense of security, and he felt desired and cherished, all those extraordinary things those cheesy holo-novels spoke of. One night, while engrossed in his latest project, he confessed everything, using his tinkering as a distraction to prevent himself from retracting the words he wanted to express. After he finished speaking, a quietness descended upon both of you, and he questioned aloud whether pursuing a relationship would truly be the wisest choice given your circumstances, even if you felt the same way. As you moved closer, asking him what he would say if you said yes, he caved. He wanted to be with you, and he was unwilling to deny you both a chance at happiness for the sake of practicality. 

[worldsewage]

What's your inkfish ocs opinions on water, given how wet your AU is? Any of them wish they could swim without getting melted into a pool of goop?

To most Inklings the opinion on water is similar to asking people what their opinions are on hurricanes. But because a lot of my ocs are from different zones theyre all gonna have different opinions.

If you ask an Inkadian their answer would either be “it’s water, whatever!” (Inksports Inklings who have probably fallen in water before during competitions and assume that’s what it’s like ((it’s not))) or “not messing with it” (inklings who have seen floods and have heard or have been affected by them, and understand the danger)

Respawners outside of watered areas(such as salmon run grounds or turf war stages, or even public areas) are extremely well made, they are perfected, a lot of young inklings who fall into the water get swept up so efficiently into the respawner the effects of water damage has zero time to settle in, nowadays Artificial Ink usually gets spat out around respawners, too, usually in Stages / Running Grounds, lessening water damage even more by diluting the water— so many inklings don’t think water is too scary since they don’t understand how quick water damage is if you fall into respawner-less waters.

July’s nervous around water wasted territory in a typical Inkling Fashion. They’re probably so nervous around water they’d splat ankle deep out of sheer anxiety.

Alligator grew up far east, which is primarily flooded farm land so she’s well versed in the wreckage and death that comes with that, so she’s not as afraid around water, she knows what’s dangerous and what isn’t. Alligator is a tad older too, so she grew up in a time where Inklings were still figuring out how to combat homerunning salmonids who would blaze trails through their farmland— and sometimes dig up paths that lead more water into Inkling territory as they seek places to lay eggs. Her family is born her so her skin is naturally tougher, anyway.

Saint grew up in the south-western Salmonid Territory, it’s an awkward ink and water wasted zone that’s pretty lawless due to frequent feuding between salmonids and the inkling clans that live there. Saint— due to growing up along-side salmonids, doesnt fully understand the danger of water, but knows how to be safe around it. Maybe their ease around water-wasted zones makes them seem reckless, I think a bad slip would make them far more skittish— but otherwise they’re safely wrapped up and ready to go.

Fido is an ex-grizzco employee who grew up far east, much like alligator, a farm boy. Half of his family is krakened since they work in water wasted fields that reach knee-deep. So he’s pretty adjusted to the injuries and aches water can leave, he lost his leg at grizzco— surprisingly, not due to falling into water, but years of water damage finally got to him, and his leg collapsed in on itself sometime during a salmon run, and his skin was too damaged to reform. He still works on water fronts but I think that’s just because he has a weird fascination with water now. He likes that he has an excuse not to tread around on water, though, and his boots stay mostly dry on the boat. He’s probably the only one who would wish to go for a swim.

Samah and Valentine— Despite being Inkfish, are Octarian, meaning they are a species who is united with Salmonids. They understand the dangers of water since their brother species is extremely reliant on it, and Octarians have a higher water tolerance, being submerged is dangerous for Octarians, but otherwise— treading through knee or even waist deep water provides no real danger to Octarians unless they get splatted by some other outside force, forcing them to submerge completely.

Of course, Octarians aren’t gonna go for a dive, but they’re not as skittish since they have less to be afraid of. Samah even more so than Valentine, Samah— despite being from the domes as well, is a Salmo-Octarian. They’re not a hybrid species (that’s not possible) but rather a species of Octarian who grew up along side Salmonids. They’re speculated to have a higher water tolerance but there’s no real scientific basis on that statement, chances are they’re just better versed on how to navigate water.

[yellowsubiesdance]

that actor thing when you catch feelings for your scene partners when your characters are in a romantic relationship

[violent138]

HC that Superman goes public about his lack of American citizenship and over a hundred countries offer him either broad diplomatic immunity or honourary citizenship since he's demonstrated a willingness to help them out in times of trouble/generally is a good human being.

[deoidesign]

quick traditional piece for fun ^^

[hajihiko]

Your tag saying Mikan is gonna have it rough has me worried. She’s already been through enough! I mean they all have but especially her! I don’t even want to imagine what her haunting is like!

there's no metric for suffering so it's not like she literally has more bad than the boys. I just mean that, to me, things pertaining to childbirth and the menstrual cycle is horror in itself so it hits harder

[dirtypuzzle]

say a button exists that, when pressed, says it would cure all of humanity of human nature. you are then asked if you would press the button. if you say anything other than “fuck no” then you will fall for eugenics as long as it’s pitched to you appropriately. unfortunately, eugenics is one of those cockroaches that never dies no matter how many times it gets stamped out.

[nutelloona]

btw is anyone else also in love with the fact that Jim, Oluwande and Archie naturally evolved into a throuple no announcement no questions asked no big deal????

[notbecauseofvictories]

nosferatu is a beautiful movie, amazing choices by everyone involved---except the main actors. they were terrible.

[clowndensation]

now i don't know who irelin or strife are, so far be it for me to question why they think the way they do. but. you would assume that two dalish elves would, upon hearing about the return of two of their gods (gods who fought against fen'harel, who is currently causing so much trouble), express some sort of happiness or perhaps hope at what this could mean for the future of their people. "elger'nan and ghilan'nain were NOT known to be good gods" is like. not tracking. for me. personally.

[djsangos]

//"average inkfish is very aggressive" factoid actually statistical error. Captain Violence, who makes one billion threats of bodily harm a day, is an outlier and should not have been counted