#but the site does this constantly and it is exhausting

[consolecadet]

Rapidly developing a personal vendetta against The Donut Whole

[dreamwritersworld]

His daughter (sully family x reader)

It was rare for Navi’s to have twins. So with Neytiri’s pregnancy with Lo’ak and Y/n it was safe until it wasn’t, she had almost lost Y/n in her womb. It would’ve left Lo’ak by himself, the rest of Neytiri’s pregnancy was the worst. She knew her baby girl was going to be born weak, so when they pulled her out of Neytiri’s womb it was like they were taking the life right out of her. Neytiri immediately went to grab her, longing for her daughter’s heart beat. Compared to Lo’aks body Y/n was small and fragile..from then on the connection with their daughter was strong, they needed to be in order to keep her alive.

So from then on Y/n was Jake’s baby girl, his precious daughter. It should be noted that she was Lo’aks twin and was raised along side him and Kiri.

Of course as any child would, Lo’ak and Kiri had selective hearing when it came to their father and his many rules growing up. However, Y/n listened. She was the only one out of all three who truly cared about her fathers opinion. In the eyes of the clan Y/n was Jake’s golden heart.

*

“Mhm and Ooo! What is this papa?”

The child had wobbled to her mothers chain of flower, she had planned to surprise the girls with.

“ahhh, that my little one is not for you!”

“…are you sure papa? It looks nice on me.”

Y/n twirled around with the flower crown, smiling with glee and grace.

“It does!! But your mother would kill me if she found out I let you-“

Neytiri had walked through the home before he could even finish his sentence

“Ma’Jake?! You were supposed to hide it!”

“She got a hold of it!”

“It looks amazing mama-”

While spinning however, Y/n fell to the floor and both parents looked at her in disbelief. They froze for a moment waiting for the cry’s to begin..but they never did. Y/n just laughed at herself and laughed at her parents for worrying more than she had. Jake’s smile couldn’t hide, he knew that Y/n was strong and he loved that about her.

*

The only issue with Y/n was that she wore her heart on her sleeve. She loved to love everything in site, and she often gave people the benefit of the doubt. Jake saw that, and he trained her very well. He had her perfected and established to be a role model for the clan. Despite all his efforts, y/n didn’t find it in her heart to view the world as he did. So, he kept a watch fall eye on her to keep her safe, and Y/n was never allowed anywhere without someone around.

*

“I’m going around the village! By-“

“Nope! Not without your sister!”

Y/n had tried her hardest to remain patient with her father, settling on not saying anything and instead holding her frustration in. All she desperately wanted was time to herself; she was exhausted from spending time with everyone.

*

In many ways Y/n knew how to capture anyone’s eye. She was the most vibrant out of all siblings. All siblings remained close, but they had never gotten to the point where they would speak about..the cracks within their house..

*

Jake had been furious that he found both of his sons wondering around the forest, with no care in the world.

“Lo’ak are you stupid?! You were given orders! Stay away from those areas of the forest!..and you! Neteyam how many times do I have to tell you to keep an eye on your siblings!”

Both boys would blink their tears away..

*

It wasn’t just them..

*

Y/n had been eating her dinner alongside her family when an elder adult approached her. They had instructed her to fix something, in an aggressive tone; almost as though they were demanding it be done now. For once, Y/n retaliated gently, slightly annoyed that she was constantly interrupted when she was trying to connect and eat like the rest of the clan.

“Im sorry, can it wait till im done eating? then I’ll be happy to do it! thank you.”

The elder had gotten annoyed because it was the first time, Y/n declined aiding. The women had walked away in a rush, upset at the girl.

The siblings quickly exchanged confused faces about the situation before leaping back into their conversation but Jake couldn’t shake off the emotions he was feeling about Y/n denying the women.

“..that was rude why did you treat her like that?”

Y/n looked at her father with a questionable look..

“She was rude first.”

“So? She is an elder..”

“I said I would get it done later sir, im eating like the rest of you. She can wait.”

“Y/n that is not the behavior you should be having towards the clan.”

The pair had went back and forth in hushed voice as the rest of the family watched.

“..why is it that she can toss orders at me and you can be completely fine with it?”

“Y/n you can’t be talking back to me-“

“Can our daughter not eat in peace Jake? Please can the both of you be quiet.”

The pair turned to Neytiri and all Y/n could do was pass a gentle smile at her mother, glad she had stepped in. It was very rare that Neytiri ever did. Both Y/n and Jake were so used to getting what they wanted, that the pair would often clash heads…

*

The arguments didn’t start until Y/n got older. She had gotten so eager to finally go out by herself and be more independent. That’s just the person Y/n was, she was willing to take risks and adventure. Funny enough Lo’ak was the same, yet he got away with majority of the things he did because it was expected of him. Y/n always had to come back home looking the same as she did before she left. Not a hair or seam in her outfit out of place, if Jake knew she did anything he wouldn’t approve of he’d be furious.

To Y/n , that was the most frustrating thing of all. Everyone of her siblings would be able to go out, except her. She had hated it, she always felt watched. When the people came up to her she felt as though she couldn’t truly connect, she was absolutely terrified of the things they’d tell her father if she did.

For her father’s approval, Y/n conquered more than you can imagine. She had more talent in her body at her young age than any male soldier.

You can only imagine how eager Jake was to leave the forest. His sacred children were held at gunpoint, what more of a signal could there be as a warning to go?

So the family left their home; tears fell from everyone’s eyes as they were now torn away from their friends and families. Y/n eventually grew with excitement and encouraged the rest of her siblings to feel the same, she knew something good was coming. Eywa was going to treat them to a reset button.

When they arrived on the island Y/n stood tall and confident. The clan looked at them with the most disgusted faces, confused as to why they were there and what they’d be asking for..

Time had passed and when Ronal got to Y/n, she didn’t hesitate to poke at her body. She had no shame in Critiquing it, in-front of her people…

“This child! She won’t last-“

Neytiri hissed, frustrated at Ronal for even implying that. Jake had told her to calm down, yet again putting his foot down.

“Do you think this is what we want here? Your children’s bodies won’t survive in our ocean, their demon blood runs thick..”

Ronal continued by picking at Kiri and Lo’ak next.. degraded was an understatement of how Y/n felt. She looked at the crowd furiously, until her eyes settled on a boy who had just came onto shore. He had teased her siblings here and there before meeting her eyes.

Ao’nung could feel the madness within her eyes, how fragile and frightened this experience was for her. Those eyes told everything. He had made the abrupt choice to put the teasing to an end, deciding it wasn’t worth it. Nothing could perfectly describe the way Ao’nung viewed Y/n , she was breathtaking to him. Different than the rest of the Navi’s but comforting.

When he was walking them to their Mauri he had gotten quiet, glancing at her the entire walk. She looks so comfortable in her skin, confident even! But when you took one look at her eyes it was like they captivated you and told you her life’s story. He was so interested in her background..

Y/n had remained quiet the rest of the night, she was excited before but now…the anxiety and sadness settled in. She missed the forest, she missed home. Y/n missed it so much that she regretted being at least a little excited, she threw herself to go back to grieving. All her siblings seemed eager to learn, but she knew that if she didn’t get any of it right or if her father didn’t think she was trying hard enough he’d made her relearn to all over and over again.

So there she was, picking at her food…fighting the tears. In that moment she realized she pushed those excited emotions on herself, at home she had a role to withold and the people were always so eager to speak to her. Maybe she took it for granted sometimes but, she would always take the time to say hello and ask how everyone’s day was.

“Y/n? Y/n? Y/n!”

She had been pulled out of her transit once again.

“Yes?”

“I know it’s hard. But we can’t sit at the table with upset faces. When you’re out there? You smile. When they don’t smile back? You smile. Even when They’re not here you must smile. they cannot know you have a distasteful thought while being here.”

She was mad. Mad that he was still holding his guard up. Upset that he had managed to order her around even when he wasn’t trying to. Frustrated that he couldn’t see that they should be allowed to grieve the loss of their home. Neither of them realized how exhausted and how easily irritated both of them could get after the amount of traveling they did.

“No ones here except family-“

“So? Your siblings feel your emotions! You’re making everyone upset.”

“How is that my fault? I’ve been trying-“

“Well try harder! Cause that face isn’t showing it.”

Those furious tears fell from her eyes as she stared at her father. He wanted to control everywhere she went, and now he wanted to control her emotions.

“..Well you can’t go around acting like that either..”

“Don’t cry now Y/n.”

“Yup, that’s me being dramatic. Once again, father knows everything!”

“I know everything! Because I do everything.”

Y/n got up from her spot and walked away from her meal, exhausted from her father. She was beginning to get the strength to just forget pleasing him. Y/n no longer wanted to be her father’s golden child, it had gotten so bad he’d even describe her as a burnt out star..

Even when it was visible Y/n no longer wanted to argue, Jake kept pushing and he followed her as she attempted to walk away.

“..cause you don’t let me do anything! I could help more if you just let me go!”

Neytiri gasped, fear reaping right out of her. What she feared was true, Y/n did notice how tight Jake held onto her, and she felt suffocated. The true truth was right between her words.

“Please the both of you are just tired, finish eating.”

“No Neytiri. I’m tired of this behavior. Y/n! With the way you’re acting, you are doing the opposite of help!”

Neteyam grew accustomed to taking the siblings out the room when anyone was arguing with father, he knew because it’s what he would’ve wanted. The most harshest punishments come from their father.

“I’m doing the best I can! What else do you want from me?!”

“I want you to be better! And to maybe spend some time thinking about how you’re effecting this family! I can’t keep arguing with you! This year has been a wreak! And it started with you, constantly acting out. You don’t get to be sad when you became reckless with the clan when they needed you.!”

Y/n started at her father for a brief moment, she gave her heart a moment to break. The clan meant everything to Y/n and yes, sometimes recently she had denied their demands to stay late and aid within their homes simply because everyone has their moment when they were tired of everything. The face of betrayal came across her face once again..

“…you may tell me how to shoot a gun, or train or who I get to hang out with, but you don’t tell me how to grieve my home and clan! I’m done with this conversation.”

“Oh!! Now I get it, this is about your training, that you fell down from!”

“Oh my goodness! This has nothing to do with my capabilities! But since we’re on the subject just because I mess up with small details, doesn’t mean that I won’t succeed in life! You do not get to tell me that!”

“I get to tell you all of it! Because I made you! Remember that Y/n!”

“Yea dad…you made me..okay..that’s fine..”

Neytiri wanted to cry at seeing her daughter’s shoulder weaken, her posture fall with her tears, and her hair detach from her scalp once again since she had run her hand through it. The volume in her voice got low and cracked, her daughter had accepted defeat in Jakes argument.

The siblings walked back in and watched Y/n walk into a dark corner of the Maui, turning her back to her family..

They sat there and didn’t bat a word at Jake, simply gotten used to his behavior and treatment of Y/n. They didn’t believe he was right for it, but what can you do when you know she’s at least fighting for herself? All siblings and mother accepted that she would never change.

Y/n laid there weeping silently, allowing her body to fall into a deep rest she needed badly.

!💗!

HEYYYY HOPE YOU LIKED IT MWAH!!!

@venomsvl

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Pack Play

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by an anonymous user. Dabi has been a wolf all his life and he has never had a good time with his rut, always ending up somewhere unsafe, underfunded, and unpleasant for each cycle. So when they take over the PLF and they get the funds to make a good, proper rut room, Dabi is absolutely going to take the opportunity to get himself everything he could possibly want for it. If Duster is gonna get to enjoy it too when his rut hits, then that's fine, it just means that hopefully, he won't complain about the excess that Dabi's put into the place. He really was not expecting their cycles to sync though.

Contents: Werewolves, pack dynamics, mating cycles, sex toys, knotting, multiple orgasms, scenting, supernatural AU

Word Count: 6564

Finally getting to have a real home for the first time in months is a blessing and a curse. It's good to have the PLF and know where they're sleeping, where their next meal is coming from, and that they have a minute to breathe without having to be terrified that the police or heroes are going to be on their ass constantly. It's bad because without the constant stress that's been on them keeping their instincts at bay, all of them are struggling to make sure they have what they need as their bodies go out of survival mode. Compress, a fang, has access to as much blood as he wants given their numbers now, and so does Toga, though her needs are related to her quirk rather than biology. Twice is still grappling with his curse of a quirk and how violent being around doubles of himself can make him as a doppelgänger. And he and Shigaraki, both werewolves, though Dabi thinks Duster was turned instead of born, suddenly have their own territory, packmates, space to transform and run, and plenty of food. And unlike the others who are just settling in and getting comfortable once the hard work is done, Dabi is preparing himself for a week-long frustration that he can feel rapidly approaching. 

It's been three months since his last rut, which is the longest he's gone since joining the League, because at least back in Kamino they had regular meals and the safety of a rut room. But when they ended up back on the streets, his body had plunged right back into survival mode and had left him exhausted and unable to even think about sex, so he hadn't had a rut. But he knows as soon as he sleeps in a real bed for the first time in months that the next one he has is going to absolutely ruin him. 

He gets Shigaraki to approve his plans to renovate one of the guest houses into a proper rut room. The guest houses around the villa are small single room studios with a kitchenette, bathroom, and not much else, but that's more than good enough for his purposes since no other wolves lived at this site before. And perhaps knowing he'll eventually be spending time in it as well, Shigaraki gives him a hell of a budget for the place. So Dabi looks up real rut rooms. Good ones, not just chains attached to radiators and dirty mattresses on floors, usually in a room so small that he can barely move as he goes desperate for a mate. 

He spends a week getting the place renovated. The building gets shutters installed over the windows that can't be broken, the door is reinforced, only opening for someone with claws like theirs so that no humans or other creatures accidentally stumble inside and put themselves in danger while they're feral, and a similar keypad inside that can only be opened when their claws are retracted so that they can't get out during their rut once they're inside. He gets furniture that is bolted to the ground and floors, an array of ready to go meals and non-perishable items, sinks and other appliances that have handles that will be easier to use when he's out of his mind with hormones and unable to retract his claws, and an air conditioning unit that he knows he's going to be grateful for when he's dying of his quirk as his body tries to get him to his completion as many times as it can possibly go. 

He also picks out cleaning systems for the entire room. Most werewolves don't have a full rut room in their homes that is rated appropriately for public safety, and getting a room in a private residence licensed is hard, so most wolves are used to having to share them in mating houses. Usually there are fully different wings, if not entirely separate buildings for wolves who go into rut and heat respectively, but there's always the knowledge that whatever toys or amenities are in the room, have been used a hundred times before. In good mating houses, they're cleaned so meticulously that the chemical burn of the detergent is the only thing that can be smelled, and in less savory ones, well, those are the ones he's spent most of his life in. But he does not want to deal with that when it comes to him and Duster so he puts in the effort and research to figure out exactly what he needs to make sure that the entire room can be cleaned as efficiently as possible, even making sure to have a drain installed into the floor so that the entire room can be hosed down to eliminate pheromones.   

And then he gets to pick out the fun stuff. He's never had a rut bed before and he's nearly vibrating as he gets to pick it out. It's a big square bed that is low to the floor, maybe only an inch or two from it, and it's made with a waterproof material and soft, thick covers that can be removed to be washed. He also buys every pillow, blanket, and other accessory that goes with it so that he will have it as cozy as possible. He gets pheromone air fresheners that will pump in the smell of heat, and lube treated with them to make the rut feel better even without having a real partner with him. And he gets toys. Not just sex toys, though he does, of course get those. He gets chew toys for werewolves, something that some wolves consider with a fair amount of derision, believing only pups need something to put in their mouths when they're in rut, but Dabi doesn't care. He likes to have his mouth full and he's very excited for the bit that is supposed to feel as soft as skin that can release different flavors as it's gnawed on. The reviews for the one that say it tastes like slick and the ones that advocate for the taste of blood all seem very positive, so he gets one of each. The breeding bench with a slot where different fleshlights and strokers can be swapped out on a whim is pricey, but Dabi doesn't give a shit. Detnerat is bankrolling this whole thing and he wants his next rut to be enjoyable for the first time in his fucking life. He gets a few of the different toys and a few dildos as well. He'll let Shigaraki think that's just in case any wolves who go into heat end up staying at this base too, but in all honesty, he's just always wanted to have both during his rut, and he gets toys with knots so thick he's almost jealous, and suction cups on the bases so that he'll be able to pin himself between the wall and breeding bench when the mood strikes him. 

Dabi finishes designing the rut room, makes sure that everything inside is ready, and goes back to his work. He can't make his hormones surge through him, so this will just have to wait until they do. 

///

They've been at base for five and a half weeks before Dabi starts to feel the first stirring threads of his need. It starts off in the middle of their morning meeting, Shigaraki still away for his last check-up now that his leg should be completely healed, and the rest of them are healed themselves and settling into their work more comfortably. Dabi feels his temperature starting to creep up a bit and he tries to lower his quirk, confused because he's not feeling particularly emotional looking at budget spreadsheets or quarterly reports on the book sales. When he can't make his temperature lower, he knows already that he's creeping towards his pre-rut. And he doesn't have to be terrified this time. Scared that he'll end up getting caught by police while he's out of his head, worried he might wake up with blood on his teeth that he didn't mean to take, either from a victim or a mate he wasn't looking for. He has a safe place to go, and towards the end of the meeting he says he'll be out of the building for the rest of the week, if not most of next given how long it's been since his cycle hit, and no one questions that. 

He goes back to his room and packs a bag full of soft loose clothes, if he bothers to dress at all, and then he heads out to the rut room. Going inside he finishes setting up some things, making sure the bed has all of the blankets arranged the way he wants them, making sure all of the toys are out of their cases and cleaned, that the lube doesn't have its seal on it anymore, little things that will make him feel better when his cycle hits him completely. And then he strips out of his clothes, only putting on a pair of loose pajama bottoms, and lets himself half transform. He's been careful to not do this in front of anyone else so that they wouldn't see his white ears and tail, but he'll like being comfortable when he wakes. 

Dabi climbs into the bed, circling around a few times, and then gives a content sigh before he curls up again. This is going to be the easiest, most comfortable rut that he's ever had. 

///

He wakes with a soft chuff, immediately noticing his cock is straining his pajama bottoms and that the room is starting to fill with the sweetness from the air fresheners. Dabi moans softly, grinding himself into the pillows when he hears a sharp inhale and a distinctive click as the door shuts. 

A growl tears out of his chest as he wakes all the way, getting onto his hands and knees, claws out and fangs bared as he tries to find what is disturbing him in his territory. It was the worst thing he could have done because Shigaraki is the only other person that would care about visiting this room and of course it's him standing in the doorway. Of course that defensive sound triggers his instincts too. The other man is across the room in an instant, his tail tearing through his clothes, his ears pinned back against his hair, and his own claws and fangs bared as he gets right into Dabi's face with a snarl. Dabi whimpers. His wolf accepted Shigaraki as his leader a long time ago, and he shouldn't have displayed that kind of open aggression against him without expecting a fight. Dabi is even more humiliated when he whines softly and automatically puts his head low and rolls onto his stomach in submission. 

Submission that puts his aching cock on display, erection unmoved from the embarrassment that heats his veins as his rut claws across his nerves. Shigaraki growls at him softly, leaning in to nip at Dabi's throat to ensure he knows his place and Dabi has to bite his lip and try not to squirm as that makes him even harder. Then Shig chuffs at him, letting him know that the transgression is forgiven. Dabi quickly rolls back onto his stomach and mumbles, 

"What are you doing in here?" His face flushed as his body wars with the want to submit and the desire to fight Shigaraki into submission so that he can mount him as his rut hormones soak his veins.

"...Same as you."

Dabi groans, hiding his face in his arms. "Go away," he whines. It's not uncommon for packs to sync their cycles, but he really, really had hoped that the fact that he mostly wandered away from Shigaraki when they were on the streets would mean that this wouldn't be an issue. And he had really wanted to enjoy his first rut somewhere good and safe by himself. Duster goes and grabs the backpack that he dropped by the door on his way in and starts to strip out of his villain shit, the same way Dabi had when he'd come in.

"I couldn't open the door if I wanted to." And yeah, that was the point. Keep them in here in case they go totally feral. But it doesn't mean that Dabi isn't pouting a little. "Scooch." He instructs as he comes back, now also just in pajama pants, and smelling of spice and thunder, but not overwhelmingly so yet. He's not hard as he climbs into the bed and licks Dabi's hot cheek just above his scars. It's a soothing action, something to tell Dabi that it's alright, that he's still safe here with the alpha of his pack. It's something Shigaraki has only done for him once before, when he was hurt after Kamino. These kinds of things are confusing to people who aren't like them, and he doesn't think that Toga or the others would ever let them live it down if they cuddled and groomed each other the way Dabi sometimes craves from his pack leader. Humans, even other preternaturals, often misconstrue the things wolves do as romantic when their intimacy usually comes without those ties. Dabi shifts over in the bed so that Shigaraki can curl up with him. 

But the encouragement and affection makes his body feel even warmer, and he pulses out his scent involuntarily to show his alpha that his need is so high. Shigaraki lets out a low, rumbling churr and gives him another little lick. 

"Do you want to be mounted, puppy?" 

His cock aches, his instincts screaming that mounting or being mounted would feel so good, but he doesn't know if he really wants that. "'Puppy'? I'm older than you." 

"Maybe, but you're my pack," his only biological pack until they bring more wolves into the PLF. "And I take care of you." That sentiment really does not help with the arousal suffusing his body. 

It makes Dabi swallow back some of his nerves and admit, "... I don't know..." 

"That's alright, Dabi. I'm not going anywhere. Go make yourself feel good, puppy." 

Dabi nearly whimpers. He knows this isn't uncommon for made packs, but it still feels embarrassing to want to touch himself in front of the other wolf. But he was given an order, and his need is so insistent that he pulls himself from the bed and over to the toys nearby, shakily removing his pajama bottoms. When he chances a glance over his shoulder, he finds that Shigaraki has curled up facing the opposite direction from him and that's really all he can stand. He fumbles to open the candy-like lube and wraps his hand around his cock with a moan.

Dabi manages to make himself knot once, though he shouldn't have done it in the open air, because that made it sting like crazy, and clean up a little before he climbs back into the bed. Shigaraki pulls him close when he does, and Dabi would have laughed at him if he were awake, but he's still out, his body pushing him to sleep while he can until his rut hits completely. He's too restless to sleep, but it is nice to be close like this. He's a little shameless as he tucks his nose into Shigaraki's neck so he can soak up his thunderstorm smell as he sleeps. 

///

By the time his next wave of need hits, Dabi does not give a single shit about being exposed. He slips Shigaraki's embrace and fumbles to find the fleshlight he'd picked out that was specifically made for wolves. It doesn't look that different from the ones that are made for humans and other species, but the inside was modeled off of a werewolf's body, and the false vagina has ridges inside that mimic the muscles wolves have to keep a knot locked in tight. He gets the toy into place on the breeding bench and snags the lube off of the floor, squirting a generous amount inside and along the outer lips of the toy until it's dripping wet like a real cunt would be for a wolf in heat. Fuck just seeing the toy looking so much like flesh makes Dabi's whole body tense with his need and he gets onto the bench without hesitation. 

His cock is already aching and dripping when he rubs it against the toy, feeling the soft silicone against him, cool against his burning heat and that has him growling. It's not a mate's body though, and that means he doesn't need to worry about anything else but chasing his own pleasure, so he only rubs himself against it enough times to make sure there's lube smeared along his sensitive piercings before he's sinking in deep with a groan. The toy clutches his length, nearly sucking him inside, and massaging every inch of him with soft ridges that feel so good he doesn't care that they're not real. He fucks his hips as deep as he can go on the first thrust and his claws scrape against the bench as his whole body trembles. His knot hasn't even formed yet, but he can feel those special ridges touching where it will and the tease of them has him panting harshly. 

And then he hears Shigaraki growl softly. Dabi whimpers, not turning to look at him, his tail drooping between his legs as he worries the other will want this now that he's woken, now that the smell of his arousal is pulsing hot through the air and making it abundantly clear that he's in his rut proper too. He won't fight the other for any of this, but it doesn't mean that Dabi won't miss it if he has to give it up. He's pretty sure if the other makes him stop fucking the toy so that he can have his turn, Dabi will be back inside of it the moment that Shig's knot unlocks, squelching through his cum just to find his own pleasure. 

But Shigaraki doesn't make him stop. He chuffs at him and moves closer, getting the discarded lube and then moving away again. Dabi chances looking back at him, trembling from how badly he wants to move, but his instincts force him still until he has his alpha's approval. And Shigaraki is leaning back against the pillows, red eyes half-lidded and watching him, his hand slick and wrapped around his cock. His massive cock, Jesus fucking Christ, Dabi whimpers as he sees him, as he immediately wonders how big his knot must be when he's already so thick and long. Duster makes him even more needy when the other is shameless, stroking himself with long, sure movements, as his eyes drag over every exposed inch of Dabi's body. 

"Did you change your mind, puppy?" 

He's damn fucking close to it now that he's seen the other's cock. But he doesn't have words for it, just soft animal whines as his head goes foggy from the heady smell of the two of them and the false heat hanging around in the air. Duster shifts, letting go of himself and coming back over so that he's so close to Dabi's body. 

"Let me help you feel good, Dabi." he murmurs, dipping his head to his neck and scenting his nearly broken glands. 

He's never had someone with him during a rut, and he's already drowning in the sensation of having toys, having somewhere safe, having his pack with him. "Duster," he moans and can't help it. His hips move forward again, fucking into the toy that puts sparks under his skin as his tail stands up and tilts to the side to make his ass open and exposed for his alpha to use in the same manner. 

"Need you to use your words, puppy, or I can't touch you." 

"Want it, Duster." He whines.

"Good boy," And Shig's mouth moves to his neck, his teeth nipping at his skin and making Dabi's whole body shiver as he is torn between fucking into the toy hard and trying to grind back to get Shigaraki's cock inside of him as fast as possible. Shigaraki has his gloves on, and he wraps his hands around Dabi's hips as he licks and sucks along his neck, forcing him still as his slick cock rubs against his hole. Dabi can't help the needy little moans that come out of him as he's forced to stay with that delicious pressure around his own cock as the other starts to tease at the ring of muscles with his head, trying to get Dabi's body to loosen for him without hurting so that he can have the more he's craving without them having to open him up when it will be nearly impossible for either of them to retract their claws. 

He rocks his hips against Dabi, rubbing and grinding, and putting that good sensation there even though he must be as desperate as he is to have more. And he lets Dabi move his hips at that same rhythm. It’s much slower than he would prefer, but he doesn’t care when it means he gets to rut into the toy beneath him. The fleshlight swallows up his cock on each thrust, gushing around him and squeezing deliciously, making animal sounds of pleasure spill from his lips as he fucks it at the pace his alpha sets. 

“You’re doing such a good job, puppy. Does that feel good?” 

He whines, nodding weakly. He feels like a puppy. Like this is the first time he’s ever had his rut from how small and fragile everything feels when he knows his pack leader can take it away whenever he wants. No matter how good it feels, until he’s locked inside, Shigaraki could just make him stop. He could make him sit on the floor instead of in the bed and watch him as he knots the toys and enjoys his rut instead, making Dabi endure his arousal without ever getting off the way some packs choose to when they aren’t looking to have a whole litter of pups to take care of. 

But Shigaraki doesn’t make him stop. He kisses and licks his neck as his hands guide his hips so that he’s fucking the toy a little harder, a little deeper, until his head is touching that final barrier at the tip and that extra sensation there has him whimpering and yipping, begging Duster without words to let him keep doing it, trying to show the other how good it feels, how much he wants to cum. The other keeps teasing against his rim, but lets him continue, his tongue laving over Dabi’s scent glands like he’d mate him right now, without even asking. That should turn him off sharply, but instead Dabi moans loudly, fucking the toy a little rougher, a lot rougher when Duster doesn’t stop him, letting him find the fast pace that he wanted before the other woke and saw him trying to satisfy himself. 

Moans and whines leave his lips, as he starts to feel his knot swelling, his legs shaking and his toes scraping against the floor as he chases his completion. 

“That’s it, show me your pretty knot, baby boy.” Shigaraki’s voice is slurred around his growls and that’s what sends him over the edge, nearly biting through his lip as his fangs sink into it as he fucks as hard as he can into the toy as he swells rapidly. Duster pushes the tip of his cock into his hole at the same time as Dabi’s orgasm surges through his skin and he howls his pleasure as the toy squeezes his cock, those perfect ridges locking his knot inside as he pumps it full of so much cum that the special pressure release at the back has to open so that it can spill out the mixture of cum and lube that can’t fit inside. He keeps letting out gasps and pants as his entire body shudders as his pleasure racks him, pulsing through his full knot and at his hole as those muscles are made to accommodate his alpha’s cock. He feels even bigger than he looked and Dabi had been looking forward to pinning himself between his knot and a fake one, but this is better. 

So much better when Duster smells the blood on his teeth, even though the wound heals rapidly, and he chuffs against his neck. “Is my puppy teething?” He’d have snarled at him any other time, but right now, Dabi’s body is too wracked with pleasure to do anything but whine. “That’s alright, baby boy. Open wide and I’ll give you what you need.” 

Dabi does as he’s told in a haze and his tail wags a bit as the other brings one of the chew toys to his mouth. He can smell blood beneath the false silicone skin and he is so eager to have that behind his teeth– and Shigaraki feeds it to him as he feeds inch after inch of his cock into Dabi’s pliant body. His legs twitch uselessly, claws digging into the floor as he’s suspended on the breeding bench, his ass held high for his alpha and his knot trapped in the toy, as his mouth and hole are both filled. His teeth sinking into the silicone is the only thing that keeps him from blowing out his throat on a fresh moan, and even then, he can’t stop the tears that prick at his eyes and roll down his cheeks as he’s filled so much fuller than he ever has been before. 

Shig only gives him a few seconds to adjust before he rolls his hips into his body. It’s so much, but his pack leader has already been so patient even though he must be feeling the same insatiable need Dabi has been. And Dabi’s entire body goes limp with his submission. He wants his alpha to feel good. He wants to be used by him through his rut. He wants to show the other that he can be a good packmate after spending so much time running away from him and the bond their instincts kept asking them for. 

Shigaraki stiffens over him, his breath catching in the back of his throat as Dabi gives himself up completely. It’s a reprieve of seconds before the other is growling loudly and fucking into his body hard. Dabi’s teeth sink into the bit in his mouth and muffles his moans as every inch of his insides is made to feel as good as his cock, still being held tight by the wet warmth of the toy. Shigaraki’s cock is so big inside of him as he fucks into his body, setting his thrusts to the same hard, unrelenting pace as Dabi had used when he’d been allowed. It is all instinct and need and he trembles when he hears his alpha starting to make those same desperate, animal noises as Dabi had been. Duster is always so composed nowadays that Dabi can hardly tell what he’s thinking, hearing him falling apart, hearing him enjoying himself and knowing it’s because of him, makes his whole body thrum with fresh pleasure. 

He can smell, through the glands on his thighs that are still strong, how warm the air goes with his contentment, and that has Duster’s claws biting into his skin as he holds his hip with one hand. The other reaches for his chin and he forces Dabi to turn his head back as much as he’s able. He moans through his toy as Shigaraki leans over his body, hips moving even harder and faster, and the angle ensures that he is rubbing against Dabi’s prostate on each thrust. He looks at the other blearily and whines, trying to fuck his hips into the toy again as Shigaraki bites down on the other end of the bit, his fangs sinking in deep and filling their space with their tangles scents, false heat, and false blood. It’s a lie and Shigaraki’s teeth aren’t anywhere near his skin, but Dabi swears he can feel them inside. He swears, for a moment, that it feels like the other mated him. 

He thinks it must feel like that for him too, because he lets out a feral growl as he fucks him hard enough to put bruises under his skin a few more times before his knot is swelling. It’s massive as it pushes against his rim, but Duster doesn’t slow down, doesn’t let Dabi adjust, he forces his body to accept it and the complete domination has Dabi’s knot starting to shrink. It’s not because it feels bad, no, he’s unlocking so quickly because it feels too good to be claimed so completely as Shigaraki slams into him twice more before his knot is filled and his cum is pouring into Dabi’s body, leaving him completely soaked as the other growls around the toy in their mouths so fiercely that Dabi can feel the vibration of it between his teeth. His knot is shrinking because his body is so aroused it wants him to be able to do this again as quickly as possible and he’s not about to try and fight that. 

It takes a long minute for Shig to fill him, and he thinks that he’ll be forced to hold still for a while even as his cock, still hard and sticky, is able to slip out of the fleshlight as his knot shrinks. The mess he made inside of the silicone pussy drips out in rivers along the fake lips and if he wasn’t already full and aching, Dabi thinks the sight of that alone would have made him ready to go again. 

He thinks he’ll just fuck back into it again after it drains a little more so that it can take him a second time. He’s not expecting Duster to wrap an arm around his waist, let go of the toy in their mouths, and pull Dabi off of the bench. He lets out a muffled yip in surprise and then keens as the other pulls out. He doesn’t have the muscles in his hole that are inside of a wolf’s vagina to keep their mate locked inside by their knot, and he whimpers as that massive intrusion is taken out of him, when it feels so good to be full and wet, keeping his alpha’s cock warm. Then the world shifts sharply and Dabi’s back is hitting the soft nest that they shared before, kicking up more of their tangled scents. 

Shig’s hands wrap around the backs of his thighs and he pushes his legs up to his chest before he is re-entering his body, his swollen knot pushing back inside in one smooth movement that has Dabi arching with a moan as he nearly bites through the toy. Oh, oh! He didn’t know other wolves did this, but Duster starts to fuck him again with his knot still full. And if feels so good, as that swollen section reaches the perfect depth to always have pressure against Dabi’s prostate as he fucks him hard again. 

There are stars exploding behind his eyes as he scrapes his claws down the other’s back, holding onto him as he nearly chokes on his toy, spit trickling out from between his lips, but he’s scared that if he lets go he’ll say something embarrassing, that if he lets himself open his mouth, it will be to beg for his alpha to mate him and they’re barely a day into their cycle. Shigaraki fucks him with his knot, leaning down to lick away his spit and the tears trickling across his cheeks, words lost to the growls, barks, snarls, and groans that his wolf knows are all good, good, good. Sounds that tell him he’s being so good for his pack. He’s being good, giving him what he needs, and that makes Dabi’s body even hotter. 

Duster’s hair is falling around them as he leans over him, eyes drinking him in like the sight of Dabi alone is enough to make him feel so good, and seeing that affection, that want on his face has Dabi whimpering, trying to buck his hips up to show his alpha how much he likes it. How good he’s feeling as he’s used. Too good. His cock hasn’t been touched, but he’s drooling fresh pre all over his stomach. And, he whimpers as it stings, his knot is starting to form again in the open air. 

But he doesn’t try to touch himself. He doesn’t reach for any of the other toys he got to make him feel like he was mounting a mate to sate his needs. No, this kind of release can be something different, something special, because it’s another form of submission to not try and find the heights of his pleasure and let his body be used by his alpha instead. He yips and whines through the bit and Tomura chuffs soothingly, licking his cheek again in a far contrast to how hard he’s fucking into his body. He watches as Dabi creeps closer and closer, the sharpness of knotting in the open air stinging and aching, but never letting him come away from the edge of his pleasure when he feels so full of the other’s cock and so wanted as he watches his body give itself to everything he’s doing to him. 

Dabi moans loudly, a sob on its heels, as his knot fills and he pumps his spend all up his chest and across his stomach in thick spurts as he cums again. He is beyond bliss as he lays completely limp beneath the other, his eyes heavy and his head swimming through the pleasure that just keeps coming as Duster fucks him through his orgasm, one hand only coming to stroke and rub at his swollen knot after cum stops dribbling out of him. It prolongs that bliss, but Dabi doesn’t think he could ever possibly float so high he wouldn’t notice Shig’s knot inside of him. 

Which makes it particularly notable that Duster’s knot doesn’t shrink as he keeps fucking him. He stays swollen. Oh fuck. Dabi moans weakly, his jaw aching from biting the toy so hard, and it finally falls from his mouth. The second it does, Shigaraki is leaning in and kissing him, licking out that false flavor of blood from behind his teeth as his thrusts grow harder again. Being able to keep his knot like that means he’s an alpha alpha. Not just one because he leads their little pack, but because he is a holdover from history back when wolves had secondary sexes. His rut will be longer, harder than Dabi’s. He’ll cum so much more, and be so territorial that if anyone comes near the rut room he’ll tear them apart without blinking. 

Dabi doesn’t mean to pulse out the scent of warmth that he does. A scent that tells Duster how safe and good he feels knowing that he’s even more dangerous, even better suited to be his leader, than he thought he was before this started. But he can’t hide from those feelings as he’s fucked so deeply through his rut. 

It’s Shigaraki who howls this time, having to bite the pillow just beneath Dabi’s neck to keep from mating him, and making Dabi’s whole body go tight with delight as he makes Shig lose his control so completely as he pumps him full of his cum again. 

And he loses track of time completely after that. 

///

According to his phone, when he manages to find it after they wake up without either of them aching for it again, it’s been two weeks, by the time their cycle ends. The rut room is in a state, the blankets and pillows shredded and stained, some of their toys broken from how much they used them, and his body humming with satisfaction as Duster licks at his skin to clean him up after such an intense and prolonged cycle. 

But tongues alone can’t clean them up completely, and they do end up having to shower before they re-enter the main room and take in the full carnage. 

“I’ll–” he starts to propose how to clean up after themselves, but Duster cuts him off. 

“We can deal with it tomorrow, come on, I want to go eat something and see the rest of our pack.” 

Dabi nearly goes boneless. His instincts were screaming for food and comfort too after something so intense and he can’t help it when his tail wags as his leader gives him permission for that. 

They leave most of their shit in the room, just pulling on pajamas before they unlock the door and head back across to the main villa. It’s after sundown and a fresh weekend, which fills them with delight when they don’t have to go find the others, they’re already in their common room, Compress in the middle of making dinner for everyone. 

“Welcome back,” they’re greeted with some enthusiasm, though the others try to go back to what they’re doing like he and Duster can’t smell how curious they are about what they are guessing must have happened between them while they were both gone for their rut. But food is already being made and their pack is around, so Dabi just chuffs at Shig and he pulls him over to the unoccupied armchair, sitting down and pulling him into his lap. Dabi’s tail immediately starts to wag as he cuddles into his chest, licking at Shig’s neck as the other starts to groom his ears in return.��

Dabi doesn’t think his wolf has ever felt so happy and comfortable after his rut. 

Not a surprise though when he has to be human again as Toga can’t contain herself any longer, “Are you two dating now?!” 

He opens his mouth to snap at her, but Shig beats him to the punch. “No, we’re not. These are things that wolves do to reinforce pack bonds. If any of you were wolves too, we would be doing the same thing with you.” Well, not entirely. Toga would still be a pup if they turned her, but yeah, the sentiment stands. 

“Oh…” she says, not quite able to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “So it’s totally platonic cuddling, and licking, and fucking?” 

Duster doesn’t hide his amusement. “Yes.” 

“Mind your own business, human,” Dabi mocks lightly before nuzzling back in to shamelessly scent Tomura’s neck. “Hey Duster?” 

“What is it, puppy?” 

He licks his scent gland again, nipping at it lightly too, just to hear the other growl. “Date me?” 

He feels it when Tomura’s tail starts to wag too. “I’d be happy to, Dabi.” And he presses a kiss between his ears, his scent overwhelming him with how sweet and content it goes. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

“You two are insufferable.” Compress informs them. “Do you want your steaks bloody?” 

“Yes please.” Tomura answers for both of them and Dabi stays tucked into his embrace for the rest of the night. He has a sneaking suspicion he’s never going to want to let go. 

[perseephoneee]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓘𝓘

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

↳ fic masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

a/n: this is such a filler chapter, and it's also terrible, and i hate it.

While you knew the Odinsons, you didn’t know the full extent of their history. That is until you made it home from the dance, and your sister demanded you tell her about your rendevous with Thor. You were so exhausted you could barely get the answers she yearned for.

Lady Frigga, the mother of Thor and Loki, was originally a lady of the ton but married Odin, a Prince of Norway at the time. After Frigga’s passing, Odin moved the family back to London in honor of her spirit. You found it surprisingly romantic. 

You awoke late the following day, finding the night before's events tiring. Social situations constantly exhaust you. Going through your closet, you put on a green gown, ignoring any help that could be given to you. You resented having someone else dress you. You were so in your own head as you bounded down the stairs to your sitting room that you barely noticed the man taking up space on the couch. 

“Your Highness,” you bowed, eyes wide as Thor sat up to greet you with a bright smile. Your Grandmother was perched on one of the other setees, an excited sparkle in her eyes. Oh, how you wished to squash that gleam. 

“Lady Chilton, how do you fare this morning?” Thor asked, hands clasped behind his back. He was ridiculously tall, and you had to tilt your head to take him in. 

“Well, I wasn’t taken in my sleep, so I would hazard that I’m doing well,” I said, taking slight glee at the glare my Grandmother shot me. Thor let out a hearty laugh, though. 

“I’m glad you are still in our presence,” Thor answered earnestly. “I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the races today?”

“Races?” You dared a glance toward your grandmother before looking back at Thor’s icy blue eyes. You clasped your hands before answering. “Absolutely. That sounds wonderful.” Thor perked up at your answer, as did your grandmother. 

“Splendid, do you need a second before we leave?” he asked. You shook your head no, letting yourself be ushered out with his hand on the small of your back. You didn’t bother looking back at your grandmother; you knew she would be ecstatic. 

Of course, the carriage that Thor showed up in was immaculate, and he helped you into one of the seats. You settled yourself, adjusting your skirt as Thor joined you in the carriage and closed the door. Your hands sat in your lap, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. 

“Have you been to the races before?” Thor inquired. 

“Heavens, no,” you chuckled, catching yourself. Your insubordination was going to get you in trouble someday. Thor seemed to find it charming, though, so he just laughed. “I prefer a good book.”

“So does my brother,” Thor sighed, glancing out the window. The sounds of the ton and nature were fast approaching, and the mention of Loki changed your mood. He was an enigma to you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “We’ve arrived.”

You glance out the window, taking in the scenery. The races were held near the lake, with green pastures surrounding its perimeter. Many members of society were there, and the available men were already courting some eligible ladies. Pastel colors and parasols obscured much of the natural sites you would’ve loved to see. Still, maybe you’d have time later. 

A light conversation occurred between you and Thor as he led the way to the stadium. He was attentive to your words, asking probing questions that let you know he was listening. Unfortunately, you didn’t have much in common. Still, he was kind. He respected that you weren’t a ‘typical’ lady of the ton. If you had to marry, it wouldn’t be a wrong choice. 

The truth was, you had yet to learn how races worked. You had the general idea, but you had never attended one. Thor seemed excited, so you tried your best to adopt his enthusiasm. Unfortunately, your seat had to be next to his brother's. 

“What brings the fair lady out to join us today?” Loki coos, a teasing tone evident. You rolled your eyes as you and Thor approached. Thor left to place his bet, giving you a second alone with the raven-haired prince.

“Your brother invited me,” you smile, tilting your head. 

“Looks like you found someone who enjoys your wit,” Loki says, looking out over the fields slightly teasingly. You bristle, eyes narrowing. 

“If only you could find someone who enjoys yours,” you mumble. Loki looks at you through narrowed eyes, biting his tongue as Thor returns. 

“Apologies for the delay, m’lady,” Thor says, leaning down to your height. “Hope you were able to stay entertained.”

“Conversation could be better, but otherwise, I’m fine,” you glanced at Loki, raising your eyebrows in amusement. He crossed his arms, indifferent. Thor chuckled, leading you to your seats. 

The race was about to start, and all the horses and their riders lined up. At this point, the event was beginning to feel like a Venetian breakfast– way too long. Like all the other sensible ladies, you wished you had brought a fan to stave off the heat. That would mean conforming, though, something you never excelled at. You found yourself much more interested in the race than you thought. When the horses took off, you were on the edge of your seat. One would pull in front of the other, then fall behind. You found yourself rooting for the grey-dappled horse; something quiet about its demeanor drew you in. It would’ve won; you believed that if it wasn’t for the Palmano next to it that distracted your chosen horse enough that it ended up only placing second. 

“Oh, come on!” you exclaim, standing up in a huff as the stadium erupts in cheers or disappointment.  “That was–”

“Perposterous,” Loki finished your sentence, indignation in his tone. You made eye contact, resenting the way his green eyes made your heart skip a beat. 

“What’s wrong?” Thor asked, concerned but still joyful. 

“That wasn’t very sportsmanlike,” you mumble to him, brows furrowed. 

“Life isn’t always fair,” Thor says. “Sometimes what we think is right isn’t always.”

“Sounds like something that a man who just won a race would say,” Loki sighs, sprawling out in his seat. You hide a hint of a smile, refusing to acknowledge either brother's words. 

“You two are too similar,” Thor huffs, causing you to chuckle. Too similar or too obstinate, you couldn’t tell. You did know, though…you didn’t want to spend more time with Loki.

taglist: @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief

[getvalentined]

We may have discussed this before but my brain is a sieve - re: Vincent being assigned to Nibelheim because Gast wanted to honor Grimoire's memory via Vincent - does this mean that Veld may have known that Vincent could/would end up contributing to Gast's work? Or do you headcanon that Gast just asked specifically for Vincent, and Veld went along with it for reasons of his own?

My headcanon for this is recently updated based on the newly clarified timeline of events related to Veld's backstory—since we know Kalm burned in 1997 and Felicia is therefore around Zack's age rather than Sephiroth's, I've shuffled this quite a bit! The end result is still the same as it was, but the means of getting there are slightly different.

Veld had no idea that Vincent had been selected for use in the Jenova Project. He knew the basics of what was going on in the project itself, given that Project G was on the verge of being shelved at that point and the Turks would be required for a fair amount of cleanup when that occurred, but he wasn't aware that the Turks had been selected for use in the project as breeding stock. Veld himself had already been unwittingly used in Project G in a similar fashion several months prior, although his contribution didn't necessitate he be on-site and was instead acquired via an invasive but company-standard physical exam at Shinra headquarters.

Gast's request for Vincent to oversee security on the project came down the pipe to Veld with an admission that it was strictly sentimental, since Project S would be carried out in the same facility where Grimoire had done his last research project. He'd been dead for around a year at that point, but Gast asserted that he just thought it would be nice to have a Valentine on the premises while everyone fully adjusted to Grimoire's eternal absence. Veld thought this was a bit silly, but that seemed to be the norm for most academics in Veld's experience, so he didn't see a reason to reject it.

He and Vincent's relationship had been a bit rocky since Grimoire died, so Veld hoped the assignment might give Vincent some perspective, if not some much-needed closure. Regardless of whatever led Vincent to distance himself from his father, he hadn't handled the loss well, taking a month off to make arrangements back home—trust funds and scholarships and memorials, ongoing management of the estate and long-term agreements with the university, long talks with old people in high places. Upon his return, Vincent threw himself into work in a way that would be most politely described as "burning the candle at both ends," but more accurately described as "driven like a man possessed."

At least, that would be the case for literally anyone else, but Vincent Valentine hadn't been given the title Turk of Turks for nothing. In his case, the most obvious results of his insane workload were that he was usually exhausted enough to sleep through the night, he drank more coffee than usual throughout the day, and he didn't go nearly as easy on rookies as he used to.

The fact that Vincent could intentionally put himself through twenty hour shifts multiple times a week for months on end rekindled old frustrations and insecurities on Veld's part, mostly regarding Vincent being in the department in the first place—everyone knew he was too good for the Turks, and those several months of stellar, almost machine-like performance proved it. This lingering sentiment had been lurking in the back of Veld's mind for years, since Vincent first tested into the department; with the reminder of where Vincent came from fresh in his mind after Grimoire's death, Veld found himself ruminating on it constantly.

Vincent, for his part, rejected the assignment outright. As vice director at the time, this was technically within his right, but the refusal to even contemplate the prospect set Veld off like nothing else, leading to a huge argument. Veld said a lot of things he would live to regret, Vincent almost certainly decked him, and Veld told him that he would either take the assignment or he'd be kicked from the department and sent back where he belonged.

"...I thought I belonged with you."

"We both know you're way too smart to be that fucking clueless about where people like you belong."

Veld had no idea that Vincent had been requested as part of the experiment just starting up in Nibelheim. He sent him because it was where he was meant to be from the beginning: in a big old mansion, far away from the Turks, surrounded by people just as smart as he was who knew where he came from and what he should have been doing with his life.

Maybe Veld would figure out how to apologize by the time Vincent finally got back.

(He didn't.)

[bengiyo]

Marahuyo Project Eps 7 & 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last time, the kids struggled to pick a name for their LGBTQIA+ organization while discussing their strategy before the school board. They eventually decided to focus on connecting their hopes for the island's future with its past, and set about researching. Archie gave Venice some files from the church, Lorie looked through files her dad had, and Ino suggested interviewing people after providing equipment. We learned that Archie is struggling with the path to holy orders (manifested in his neck scratching), Ino said aloud that he was gay and kissed King, and Lili is probably intersex. Each of our our kids is holding confidence about this. Lili read Marco for filth, read him for blood, but unfortunately we left at Marco outing her.

Episode 7: Aswang

You know King isn't the violent type, because some of my people would have curb stomped his ass by now.

Oh, Ino. I understand.

Okay, Lili's story is so sad and lonely. I'm glad she told Lili before this.

Oof, Lorie was not ready for the friends to lovers kiss.

That was difficult, but King is right. He shouldn't ask Ino to come out, but it doesn't stop him from getting hurt.

King's grandmother is great. It's making me sad that Ino has no one else to talk to after that.

Wow, Marco is really doubling down on being an asshole.

I appreciate this show now disguising the kinds of casual homophobia you run into.

It's hard to recognize when you need to give someone you love space when you want to help.

I do like the idea of them reclaiming the balagtasan as a way to present their ideas to the island.

I knew it was Ino who graffitied the mural.

Gay people really will turn their relationship problems into a public spectacle.

This poetry is beautiful.

Oh, Ino, I'm proud of you.

My boy is bleeding!! Marco, it's on sight!!

Man, what a concise breakdown of how it feels to know your truth and have your caregivers try to stifle that in you for the sake of appearances.

Episode 8: Babaylan

Ino and King opening up old wounds.

Yes, King, tell your mom. Shame is learned at home. A kid can face the world if they're safe at home.

I love King so much for not sugarcoating how bad public scorn can get.

Swimming at night is very dangerous, but I'm always happy to receive an underwater kiss BECAUSE IT STILL BELONGS TO THE GAYS.

Oh good. Lorie and Lili are finally talking.

See, this is the thing about doing queer media versus making QL sometimes. Apologizing for loving someone is such a queer experience. Your love isn't something that you should be ashamed of, and you shouldn't have to apologize for caring a lot about someone.

This feels like the right place for these two as friends to possibly more.

Oh shit Lili got me when she held back tears at getting best friends.

It really is exhausting how hard authority works constantly to police and enforce heteronormativity. There are so few of us. Why is it always this constant bullshit?

Oof, I actually like this choice to have Archie vote to impeach Ino, become the new president, and then immediately return to the site where they honored Christina to cry about it. Venice understands that taking care of other queers is a long term project. At least Archie said her name.

Many of my beloved elders have passed. I wish I could talk to them sometimes. Especially Barry.

I love that Venice is eating in almost every scene.

Hey! They finally picked a name!

I love how homophobes talk about history, and then storm out when confronted with uncomfortable truths.

Crying over these outfits. They're so right. Formal acceptance by the status quo doesn't erase our existence, or the bonds between us. We will make space for ourselves and those like us.

Oh, Archie. I understand you, too. I hope you find peace with yourself and others.

I love Sue Prado, but does the mom really deserve to be here? I'll accept them trying to extend grace to struggling parents since Grandma has been with them the whole time.

This march works though. Before it was only three of them. Now look at them.

A post credits scene! Wait, I love the idea of Juvy and Jose going to visit them!

Final Verdict: 9.5, Finally Some Good Fucking Food. I am just so relieved to have another show from JP Habac. It's clear he and his friends have such strong ideas about where queer people fit in our society today, and I love that his work is never about defeating homophobia and is instead about connecting others to queer joy. Despite how this show stirred up all sorts of old hurts in me, I feel so much love for these characters, and I'm so thankful that I can point to a show with a wide spectrum of queer experiences delivered in such a beautiful package. It's so rare to see a show treat the closet seriously, and I will be thinking about this show forever, alongside JP's previous work: Gaya sa Pelikula (aka Like in the Movies).

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Hey! I love your writing, you have quickly become one of my favorite blogs on this site! I was wondering if you could do more yandere Superman stuff. There isn't alot of it on tumblr and your other ones have been awesome! As for ideas maybe one about the reader having powers or a mental illness similar to gaps? No matter what you decide to write I look forward to it reading it though! 🤗

Thank you so much 💕💕💕! You have no idea how flattered I am, agshshd.

Since you didn’t specify, I’ll do a platonic yandere, since I am much better at writing those 😅. Enjoy!

The standard warnings in all my works (really only implications of stalking in this case) apply here! Reader is a meta, with a teleporting ability!

One would think that being able to teleport at a moments notice made life easier. You would be able to go to work, go to school, save money on gas money, all at the drop of a hat whenever you decided to use your ability.

It did not. In fact, it made your life actively harder with all the criminals that routinely tried to extort, blackmail, or manipulate you into using their powers for them.

“Listen, if we’re going to do the whole song and dance of you threatening me, can you at least be creative about it?” You drawl, absolutely exhausted. The man in front of you is dangerous, sure, but no more dangerous than a common criminal and you were already late for work. “I have dealt with this more times than I can count, can you maybe just like, not?”

“Listen, I don’t know what kind of death wish you have to be talking to me like that, but I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you.” He threatens, brandishing the gun in your direction. You huff. He was hardly as threatening as he liked to think he was.

“You’re holding the gun wrong.” You point out, and he blinks, adjusting his flimsy grip on the gun. He was still holding it wrong.

“Shut up! Listen, just come with me, and no one gets hurt.”

“That’s not going to happen.” A strong voice echoes from the alley way, and you tilt your head, recognizing it. Your attacker does to, and he pales, turning his gun toward the speaker frantically before dropping it. You hiss out a curse. He was lucky the thing didn’t cook off when he dropped it.

“Superman! I was just- we were just-!”

“You were just going down to the police station to turn yourself in. Unless of course you’d like me to help you get there?” A raised brow, challenging the man, who shakes his head frantically. Given that the police station wasn’t very far, you were curious as to which option Superman would go with.

“I’m not sure I believe you.” There’s not even a blur, and he is behind the man, lifting him up by the back of his jacket.

He turns to you, and his eyes soften.

“Why don’t you head on to work? And stay out of any dark alleys, yeah?” He jokes gently, and you snort, nodding. “Once I have this guy sorted out, I’ll join you.”

He’s gone. You leave the alley, leaving the gun on the dirty floor. He would come back to collect it, you knew, and you had no desire to touch a firearm that had been pointed at your face.

It takes him less than five minutes to catch up to you. You know by then he had already gotten the gun to the police, talked to the officers, and dropped off your would be kidnapper.

“That’s the second time this week you showed up, you know.” You comment. He flies alongside you, the cape rustling with the wind. “You’re starting to make a habit of it.”

“This is also the second time this week you’ve been held at gun point, and it’s not even Friday.” He points out, and there’s a concerned frown on his face. “Why didn’t you teleport away?”

“He would have gone to my house instead. Better to keep him occupied until I could come up with a plan.” You shrug, and he only frowns more, eyebrows furrowing. You sigh, pushing your hair back from your forehead. Your hands were shaking, now, from the excess adrenaline.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with criminals constantly hunting you for your ability.” A warm hand on your shoulder, and you smile, a little bitter, a little sad.

“Not much that can be done about it. People see a power, and they want it, and a lot of the times they don’t care about whether that power is attached to a person or not. It’s how the world works.”

You had been dealing with this since you were a child, when your powers first manifested, and sure it didn’t exactly make for a stable childhood or a well-adjusted adult, but you knew how to handle it. You knew what to do.

“It doesn’t have to be. You know that, right?” He looks… so hopeful. Earnest. You wonder how he can keep that up when he sees and fights the worst things humanity has to offer. When humanity doesn’t even like him because he was strange and other, even though he had saved the world so many times you had lost count.

Maybe it was different for you. You had been young when the Justice League formed, had been even younger when Superman became a known hero, maybe you just grew up with it.

“I do.” The relieved smile he sends you lights up his entire face, and your stomach swoops low with a strange sort of anxiety. You weren’t used to this level of… transparency. Everything he did seemed written on his face like a book, and it was new and strange.

“I’m glad. I, uh, wanted to give you something. Here.” He holds up a small item, and you take it, curiously.

It was a watch. Silver, and blue, your favorite colors although he couldn’t have known that. A strap made of some undetermined fabric, the wrong texture to be leather but to thick to be anything else.

“It’s basically a panic button.” He explains, rubbing at the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “Press the dial used to adjust the time and it will emit a frequency only I can hear, so I can come and help.”

He takes it gently, affixing the strap to your wrist with gentle hands. It was strange to think those same hands could bend steel, that you had seen them bend steel.

“I… thank you. I really appreciate it.”

It was a strange level of care, your new watch, but it makes your chest warm. You had never had anyone show this much concern over you before.

“Well, with everything that’s happened, I figured you could use a direct line just in case, you know? I don’t want you to get hurt. And since I tend to only give them to civilians who are my friend..”

You laugh, grinning.

“Is this you asking to be my friend? I would think we were a bit past that after the fourth rescue.”

“I didn’t want to assume.” He defends, hands up in mock surrender, laughing. You both stop. You’re at the door to your work, and he smiles.

By now, it’s almost routine to wish him goodbye, and while the warm and quick hug surprises you just a bit, it’s pleasant enough that you don’t simply teleport out of his grasp in surprise.

There’s a faint smile on your face the whole day as you work. It was nice to have a friend after having been alone for so long.

[qqueenofhades]

thank you for your post i’m doing my best to stay informed on the conflict and i’m very young. i feel guilty being quiet as i understand to uplift voices helps prevent their silencing but this has lead me to not critically think about what i’m spreading

it’s been a long month. i’m only a kid and watching the world go to shit like this has been awful, I always wondered how millennials who lived through post nine eleven imperialism coped and god i’m still not sure how.

I am as a white gentile in a position of privilege and mostly my own person is unaffected by the uptick in violence and evil in the world right now. But my friends who i see every day are in more danger due to this conflict and i feel awful that i cannot ever fully understand or fix the deaths of people.

Right now I’m being a bit too reactionary. I’m doing my best but in the end I am not immune to fearmongering and propoganda, especially in these last couple sleepless weeks.

So thank you and everyone who is keeping level heads and desconstructing what’s happening. I’m sorry and i strive to be better. Thank you.

To anyone living in fear right now i’m so sorry. I will listen when you speak.

Once again I just want to say that I am a busy and uninformed student, and I wish that i had more teachers and authority figures that had objective facts to tell me. It’s suffocating to have fake news everywhere but feel powerless if you don’t know anything

it’s ok if you don’t respond to this

Thank you for your post

Thanks for this message and for taking the time to put it into words and to reflect on your own actions and rhetoric. It takes a lot of courage and self-awareness to admit that you were wrong and that you want to do better, and I'm not going to rip into you or blame you or otherwise shame you for it. So I hope this gives you the confidence to read on without feeling like you'll be raked over the coals for it, and open you to hear some ideas for doing things differently.

First, I do have a ton of sympathy for you as a young person who feels overwhelmed and exhausted by all the evil in the world, and is wondering how to get through it, react to it, or otherwise make some kind of moral response in the face of this soul-crushing trauma. I will say here that I am a little bit older than your average Tumblr user (the majority of this site is in their early-mid twenties), I do personally remember 9/11 and its aftermath when a lot of people here weren't even born yet, and I am an academic historian with a doctorate. That does not mean I am better or smarter or More Perfect or whatever at what I say, but it means that I do have a considerable amount of institutional, formal, and professional practice at analyzing a lot of complex information, putting it into words, breaking it down for less-specialist audiences, pointing out logical fallacies, and so forth.

That is not a skill that everyone has, and in the face of nonstop 24-hour news-cycle social media information overload, it can be incredibly difficult to parse it or understand how you're supposed to respond to it or what your moral obligation in response to this knowledge might be. I wrote this ask the other day in response to someone else asking how to improve their critical thinking skills and be more discerning about what they understood, shared, and analyzed. I strongly encourage you to read it, as it addresses a lot of what you're saying about feeling negative, depressed, panicked, angry, and all the other emotions that are naturally evoked in you from reading this stuff nonstop and feeling like the only thing you can (or should) do is immerse your brain in it at all times. In short, that is absolutely the worst environment to do actual substantial analysis or critical thinking, and it is designed so on purpose.

It has been said before, but it bears repeating: the human brain simply is not designed to be constantly aware of all the atrocities in the world and thus (thanks to social media) feeling as if the only way they can do anything about it is to then post the Correct Opinions on social media (regardless of whether these are informed or relevant or otherwise useful). Especially now, the rush to demonstrate Correct Thinking has warped a lot of otherwise well-meaning young people into becoming eager disinformation mouthpieces. There are a TON of explicitly bad-faith actors and far-right fascists who are posting pro-Palestine content (factual or uh, otherwise) because they know that's an instant way to get an audience of said young left-leaning people who will then be suckered into and exposed to their far more dangerous content and mindset, because that is how radicalization works. Even in the support of an obviously worthy cause, you and everyone else ARE NOT IMMUNE to fearmongering, disinformation, and virulently anti-Semitic propaganda, especially when it's being eagerly and constantly offered in a deliberate attempt to radicalize you further into violence and conspiracy theories, turn you against other vulnerable groups and people, and explicitly disengage you from the electoral/political process, which will harm the Democrats and other liberal establishment parties in favor of more far-right radical fascist theocrats and otherwise make everything, everywhere, many orders of magnitude worse.

I know the feeling that you need to do something, and since you're a long way from the conflict, it seems as if posting on social media is the best and/or the only way to go about it. In that environment, and especially right now, you will make mistakes. I know it is difficult in an online environment where popularity or acceptance by your peers often rests on never being wrong about anything (i.e. saying the same thing everyone else is saying), but it always helps to think about what you're doing, what you're saying, and if you actually need the approval of people who are conditioning you, implicitly or explicitly, into negative and violent ideological nihilism.

The hardest thing to understand is that yes, there is a lot of terrible shit going on in the world; no, you cannot personally fix it and you have to accept that as a limitation; yes, there are many multiple and complex causes and reasons for its existence and there is almost never a black-and-white simplistic moral solution that just hasn't been magically implemented yet; yes, it is always worth it to take the time to inform yourself and consider what you're saying, where it comes from, who it helps and who it hurts, and why you feel the need to say it in the first place. Of course you want to help. Of course you want to stop the needless suffering and death that has gone on in the world for millennia and unfortunately, as long as humans are humans, will continue to do so. But even so, take it away Gandalf:

[fictioninmyblood]

Between Twilight

Summary: Y/N breaks up with her ex a few weeks prior to halloween and the day of the dead. She takes a vow of celibacy, but little does she know, a dead ex has bargained his way out of hell for one last night with her. He didn’t come back to become her angel, just emerged from the shadows to drink her light for a last time and hopefully turn out her halo. She prays for a guardian angel but her gift is a territorial demon.

A/N: Literally been writing this all Halloween night into today, the Day of the Dead, hardly proofread.

A/N: Mature 18+, consume at your own risk.

A/N: Also, idk if this needs to be said, but I mostly only write for my demographic - black females. This has been my disclaimer/notice.

A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

Y/N was tired of leaving her house. It seemed with the upcoming season of mischief and eclipse season starting that the world and those around her, or even once had the privilege to be around her, was causing all types of discord in her life.

Her job that was barely paying her enough to even be able to afford to take public transit there cut her hours, again. They also sent more merchandise to the store than there was space both on the floor and in the receiving backroom so everybody was stressed all the time. Not to mention her, one of her supervisors has been handsier than usual and when she brought it up everyone including management dismissed her. 

To make matters worse, her toxic ass ex has been popping up either at the beginning or the end of her shift, standing around just watching her from the display tables or even from his car outside. For what reason? She doesn’t know since she was under the impression they were done and that was that. He was the one that constantly berated her for ever having any emotional reaction to anything. Nothing she did was ever good enough and he always demanded she keep changing herself despite convincing her she was ‘everything he had been praying for’ when they first met. So imagine her shock when after months of no contact, he started popping up. She tried to dismiss it at first as simply an inevitable crossing of paths in a small town, but now she was just always on edge.

The exhaustion didn’t just come from the chaos of her days, but also the restlessness of her nights. Since ending her relationship, she’d taken a vow of celibacy that she thought would solve all her problems, but it seemed to be creating more. No matter how many times she made herself cum, she was always dissatisfied far more than any mediocre sex she’d had with any man that left her with not one release. It was frustrating and it turned her yearning for a satisfying orgasm up to a million especially when her best sexually satisfying partner was haunting her dreams. Young. A fuckboy of a man, who gave her the run around, dragging her heart behind him as bait. A man of few words and exploding passion, who was a selfish bastard unless he was pleasuring a woman. The one man that opened her to the depths her pleasure could take her. And she really could only call it a haunting since he’d died just over a year prior.

Little did she know, he hadn’t forgotten her either, even in death. In fact he’d used this time of profound alignment to bargain his way out of hell for just one more night with her. Prepared her mind by showing her just how he’d make up for lost time.

Two days before Halloween he scared her ex into an asylum, making it clear that the man would pay exponentially if he ever stalked Y/N again. The night before Halloween he convinced her supervisor to turn himself in to the police not just for the harassment, but also for every rape he actually committed. Imagine her surprise when she walked into work Halloween morning to find the police questioning the staff and was allowed to go home afterwards being told the business would be closed until the investigation was over. Seems management looked the other way because some of them were in on it.

She was ecstatic. Unlike her coworkers who had big Halloween plans to prepare for, she was going home to snuggle into the softness of her sheets with a full belly and a book, just the kind of night she’d been craving to revel in for months. She could stress over being jobless tomorrow. Y/N showed herself some love with a hot shower and an even hotter bath followed by a good rubdown with her homemade shea butter. She put on her best negligee and her fuzziest socks. After making a healthy heaping of pasta and bringing along a large glass of wine, Y/N plopped onto her comfy couch wrapped in her plush blankets, put on a familiar movie in her background and posted up with her latest steamy romance novel.

The movie she’d put on was rolling the end credits when she woke up with drool hanging from her mouth and her book slumped on her chest. The sun had just set leaving an orange hue on the clouds as the blue of the sky darkened which pulled her in for a few minutes. This is what she loved about living, what she wished she could have more time to admire. The moments when creation showed off just a little and revealed just how magical life was if you only knew where to look. Over the years she’d given up hope that she’d find someone to share the wonder her eyes found in everyday moments, now content to keep the wonder for herself.

She put the kettle on as she cleaned up the dishes of dinner and pulled out a few cookies to go with her tea. On her way to her bedroom she turned out the kitchen light and scooped up the book, failing to notice the visitor watching her from the shadow cloaked reading nook in the corner of her apartment. Nor did she see him follow her into the room and perch himself on her ottoman as she placed her tea and cookies on her nightstand and removed her socks to get comfortable under her covers.

The man spoke before she could sit, “It’s just like you to be a perfect balance of soft and sinfully sexy,” startling her to the floor. He quirked his head and added, “and just as clumsy as ever. Has nothing about you changed?”

Y/N stared up from the floor trying to process her unwelcome visitor and the words coming out his mouth.

“Young? Is that you?” she asked shakily.

He got up from his seat, seeming to tower over her in a way he never had before, practically stretching the material of his shirt and pants at his shoulders and thighs. If she didn’t know better, she would say he’d found a gym in the afterlife and gone beast mode. He looked better than ever in a fitted black T-shirt, painted black pants, his locs fresh and braided back, and a simple gold chain to match the vampiric golds in his mouth.

“I go by Blood now, but yeah babygirl, it's me, in the flesh. In a manner of speaking.”

“Young S-,” he pinned Y/N with an icy glare, daring her to speak his full name, especially his middle one, “-Blood.”

“If you’d like to keep that pretty voice of yours, I suggest you call me by last name now. Just my last name.”

“Boy, I ain’t use no nicknames when we were together and I damn sure am not going to start now.” Y/N glared back at him, not one to back down from a challenge, “Young.”

Blood clapped his hands together and smiled with a sinful glee. “There she is! I thought she’d been killed off from dealing with the dusty ass niggas you’ve been entertaining in my absence.”

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Blood gripped her up by her throat, gently tugging her into a standing position. “Just because I welcome your claws coming out again, doesn’t mean I won’t take pleasure in clipping them back down.”

Maintaining eye contact, Y/N grabbed ahold of his balls squeezing and rolling them around her hand just a tad too aggressively. “Don’t forget I’m just as capable of clipping yours.”

Blood tightened his grip on her throat and leaned close to her face so that their breaths mingled together and she could easily see the red of his eyes. “Don’t test me little one, I’m not the man you once knew and I am having trouble not tearing you apart as it is.”

A little frightened and turned on by his obvious transformation and statement, Y/N released her grip on his balls, laying her hands against his chest, swallowing thickly as she nodded her head and hummed her assent. A hum that quickly turned into a moan when Blood ran a lone thumb whose nail grew to a sharp point along her breastbone and down her negligee, ripping it open and drawing the slightest bit of blood. Her moans grew louder when he let the rough flat of his tongue lick up the thin line and latch onto her nearby waiting nipple.

Her flat hands gripped the back of his neck as he continued to lave at both her breasts, bringing their nipples to diamond points, every so often nibbling on them and even nicking her areolas to suck on a little of her blood there too. He groaned at the feel and taste of her, relieved to finally have her back in his hands and mouth, satisfied to finally taste the one part of her that was new to him.

Blood released her for a few moments easing her to a lying position on the bed, savoring her glazed over eyes, the quick rise and fall of her chest, and the tight nipples resting in the center of her chocolate areolas. “I still remember the smell and taste of your orgasms, but for the life of me I can’t remember what you sound like mamas, all the different noises you’re capable of making.”

Y/N cracked her eyes at him, astonished by the pleasure coursing through her veins despite the little attention he’d shown her body.

“Let’s remember together just how many noises I can get you to make, huh?”

Before she could register his words, Blood had her in the center of the bed with her knees almost hugging her ears. He dove in face first, making sure to wipe his face in the juices she already had pooling out of her. He looked down at her pussy in awe. “See lil mama? I ain’t even done nothing yet and she’s already gushing for me.” Y/N started moaning when he gave her lower lips a french kiss and was unable to keep quiet the rest of the night.

After Blood tongued her down like he was scared he was going to lose his tongue he added two fingers to her clenching hole. “See Y/N/N, I told you this pretty pussy missed me. Look at how she’s sucking in my fingers, like a starved little thing. You ain’t been feeding her properly?” All Y/N could do was make incoherent noises, quickly sinking into the tsunami of pleasure that only Young could plunge her into. “That’s okay, imma give her a full course meal,” Blood said as he added two more fingers and found her g-spot, rubbing against it in a come hither motion.

Y/N’s moans quieted and her mouth dropped open with a silent O as she squirted all over Blood’s face, chest, and forearms.

Blood quickly removed his fingers and used both hands to hold Y/N’s legs open as he latched his mouth over her whole pussy, lazily rolling his tongue through her folds as her orgasm seemed to keep going. He drank all that she had to give and when it seemed her faucet had no more, he started over making her orgasms bleed into one another. Blood played in and ate her pussy for what felt like forever. When she became too over sensitive and started to try and push him away, still he ate. Even when she resorted to harsh bucking and beating his shoulders with weakened blows, still he ate. He kept going until she was pliant and too weak to fight back and only then did he give her a reprieve.

A very short reprieve since he was naked with only a literal snap of his fingers. She had just mustered the strength to peel her eyes open when he rested between her legs allowing his dick to sit snugly between her folds.

Blood flashed her his signature cocky smirk, “Hey there stranger.”

Filled with a level of shyness only he could curate, Y/N squeaked out a meek “Hi” in response.

“Now I know that cute ass ain’t getting shy on me now?” He leaned in to give her a long wet kiss. “Not after I got you so open again?” He gave her another, shorter, wet kiss.

Blood pulled his hips back until the tip was nestled in Y/N’s entrance. “Huh, lil mama?” Looking down at her pretty face and glistening pussy, he started to nudge her opening, not slipping in, but teasing her with the promise of what that pressure would turn into.

Y/N shook her head and grunted, “uh uh.”

“Now you know I like it when you speak up for me Y/N, speak up mamas.”

Y/N let out a weak groan, but that was nowhere near what Blood wanted from her so he pushed the tip in dragging a deep chorus of whines from them both. Blood let his head fall back as he savored their joining. “Fuck. I knew this pussy would be worth the trip back.”

Y/N let out a weak, “please.”

Blood’s eyes snapped back to her body with bloodlust coating his eyes.

“That’s right, beg.”

He grabbed ahold of both her thighs as anchors and pushed all the way in to the hilt. Y/N was back to being his fuck doll and the only thought that she could muster was I hope this isn’t a dream because I don’t wanna wake up.

Knowing just how his babygirl liked to be filled he stayed right where he was, circling his hips in a grinding motion, doing his best to not let even a centimeter of his dick leave her precious pussy. He started out slow and soft but it didn't take long for him to get to heavily pushing his dick into her cervix, practically marking her from the inside out.

What started out as whines quickly grew to full chested sobs as Blood came in her and kept going, seeming to keep getting harder the more he came in her. To try and quiet the feral beast that would never be satisfied as well as hide his new companion from his old lover, Blood bit her neck where it joined with her shoulder. He made sure she’d have a giant hickey in the morning and laved at the little blood that escaped from the tiny wound.

Unable to keep him at bay and determined not to stop, Blood flipped Y/N over on her stomach and lifted her ass in the air. Giving her a few very ungentle spankings to both cheeks, Blood plunged back into her with no precedent eliciting a mangled groan from the limp woman beneath him.

Dissatisfied with hearing her moans muffled, Blood pulled her up by her throat holding her back to his chest as he fucked her like he’d never fuck again. She was well and truly his fuckdoll at this point, no energy to stop him or tell him to stop, at the mercy of his unforgiving pleasure, unable to stop the animalistic noises he pulled from her.

He punctuated each thrust with his words, “such a good little one, so perfect, perfect pussy, perfect fucking body, the sweetest taste, the most devine smell, the most delectable noises.” Y/N let out a half scream at the last thrust that he seemed to put some of his supernatural strength into.

“That’s it mama, scream for me.” Y/N came hard, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she slumped, suddenly passed out from the pleasure.

Blood released his tight hold on her, but refused to pull out, still hard enough to cut steel. After he eased her to the bed, softly stroking the side of her face and neck as he whispered his version of sweet nothings in her ear.

“Come back to me babygirl. I’ve missed you so much and I’ve only got so much time to appreciate you and your body before I go back. Open those pretty eyes and give me one of those glares huh? Come cuss me out before I make you cuss in contentment.”

Y/N groaned and slowly blinked her eyes open, coming back down to Earth like molasses.

“That’s a good lil mama. Now I need you to work with me so we can get one more good nut out before I have to go.”

Y/N whined and squirmed in his grasp, too scared of what more pleasure would do to her.

“Uh uh, we not done yet Y/N/N,” Blood smacked her ass, “behave.”

Y/N groaned but stilled her wiggling. Still pliant, Blood was easily able to get Y/N on her back again and position her legs around him so that they were in missionary without ever removing himself from her snatch.

Y/N looked up into the eyes of the man that was now something more and weakly groaned out, “I still hate you.”

Blood gave her a devilish smirk and replied, “I know lil mama, but that means you also still love me. Ain’t that right?” He quirked his head at her, regarding her fucked out form.

Y/N turned her head away.

Blood took each of her wrists in his hands, pinning them to the side of her head and started moving again, beginning with slow and deliberate strokes. “Look at me.”

Y/N’s body was back in tune with his but now that she’d had more than a few moments her mind wasn’t anymore so she kept her head turned away as he worked for every reaction he got out of her. Every hitch of her breath and scrunch of her brows, every pout of her lips was his to keep, but it was the love he knew would be in her eyes that Blood craved.

He pulled her arms up so he could grasp both wrists in one hand and her face in the other, but when he turned her, she closed her eyes, still unwilling to give in.

“Fine. Be that way, but keep them hands right there.”

Blood moved his hands to the crook of her knees, pushing her legs back as far as they’d go, and kept his same slow and deliberate strokes, but added more pressure behind each one. Hitting her walls harder and harder with each thrust, careful to keep all the sperm he’d dispensed thus far firmly in her pussy.

When he hit a particularly sensitive spot, her hands moved down to his chest and her eyes popped open in shock. Now that they were locked, she couldn’t look away from his burning red gaze as he marked her womb with all that he was. He couldn't even be mad she disobeyed him since he got what he wanted with the bonus of having her on his skin.

Cupping her ass cheeks in each hand he drove into her over and over, refusing to let her break his gaze. Just when she thought she could take no more he spilled into her as her most powerful orgasm consumed her from toe to head.

Blood put his lips to her ear and whispered as they came together, “Whenever you’re missing me again, come look for me on auspicious nights between twilight.” He tongued her down as the blue of the sky signaled the awakening of morning and just as her eyes closed from the overwhelming pleasure he whispered out, “Happy Day of the Dead. Say hi to your grandmother for me.”

—---

Y/N awoke the next morning right where he left her the night before, unsure if what she had experienced was real. Just when she started to rationalize it as the most powerful haunting dream she’d had yet, she rolled out of bed and walked to her mirror. Each step made her focus on the various sore spots he’d left for her to feel over the next week and every minute in front of the mirror revealed a map of love bites and scratches that was his signature.

She guessed she could indeed find him…

…between twilight.

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

Omg I’m so happy you replied!! I definitely have more questions.

1. What Cillian character do you like writing about the most and why?

2. What story from your master list are you most proud of?

3. Do you personally have any fic recommendations/ must reads? Other sites included.

4. What gets you inspired to write? Following that question have you ever abandoned a fic?

5. What do you think made you a better writer? If you have any doubts about your work, how do you get past it enough to continue?

6. Is there a Cillian character that you just don’t like, or aren’t interested in watching/ writing about? (Sorry if that’s a loaded question)

omg thank u so much for this!!! i srsly love interacting w u guys, tysm for the thought provoking questions😄🙌

i think i like writing most about robert fischer:) ik it probably doesnt translate considering ive written most for jonathan crane but robert fischer is just such a little sweetheart to me,,, and can go both ways in being a sassy dom douchebag or being a sobbing daddy issues sub darling LOLLL i just think he has a lot of duality to delve into and develop (which ive definitely not done so far☠️) and it helps that his characterization in inception was also very surface level— i have a lot of wiggle room y’know??

i think im most proud of “dine & dash” which im aware probably no-one has read, but getting chris o’doyle’s sassy little dialogue down was like taming a wild beast,,, otherwise, considering my more well-known work, i rly liked writing “honey, i’m home”. i go crazy for the unhinged readers (if u couldnt alrdy tell lmaooo) and seeing jackson get messed with like that was a real treat.

i seriously just recommend anything by @mypoisonedvine,,, they’re literally genius & are the reason i started writing for cillian:)!! other mentions include kitten fics by @pictureinme and, a personal fave, @floralcyanidee’s jackson rippner mile-high club fic!!! these writers are all incredibly talented and im just blown away at their work every single time🫶

my thirst is such a big motivator for writing LMAO😭i wrote “guinea pig” ‘cus i wanted to absolute wreckkk jonathan crane and have him be a sub, and i got a 6.8k words long fic out of said thirst! music & book quotes motivate me a lot too— i spend sm time digging thru my pinterest for a good quote for the beginning of my fic its actually insane☠️and yes,,, im ashamed to say ive abandoned fics numerous times,,, but thats because they were series’, not oneshots. i get bored of series’ pretty quickly, ‘cause i feel kind of trapped by the initial dynamic or mood set in the first chapter. with oneshots, its like writing one long chapter of this trope and this kink or whatever and then its done, and i dont have to exhaust myself going back to tropes or kinks or storylines ive already done.

i think reading made me a better writer. expanding my vocabulary through the words of others was a biggie; seeing something be described in a certain way in someones story had me thinking of out-of-the-box ways to describe another thing (that doesn’t make much sense but lets pretend it does😭). i have many, many doubts about my work, like constantly, but i usually just suck it up. i sound like an attention whore but seeing the reposts & comments & tags on my other work reminds me people like what i’ve written before and certain people will enjoy what ive written now, so i should just finish my work for them. i also take like 100 years rereading my stuff until i think its good enough lmao,,,

ive kinda watched his whole roster of films (atleast ones i could actually find on the internet and not gone missing as a lost piece of media lmao) and i could probably write for any cillian character given i had a good idea and proper motivation. writing for certain characters is definitely harder for me to do though, so its likely i wont write for them/will take a long time to do so. an example is lenny miller— anna was such an insufferable movie to me, and lenny’s screentime wasn’t long at all, atleast not long enough for me to properly grasp his character. he just felt like a horny hardass fbi goof the whole time i could not take his 5’7 ass seriously😭cillian is smexy as hell in anna tho, so we’ll see😈another would probably be robert capa from sunshine,,, hes beautiful and deliciously musty in that but the whole spaceship setting kinda freaks me out (considering i know 0 zilch nada about space, spaceships, or anything of the sort, so it’d definitely be inaccurate). an au with him id definitely do, though! (with that hair of his my mind is already forming a 90s band au, guitarist!capa x singer!reader story…)

again thank u so much for these questions!! i feel like i rarely get to chat to u guys so this was well appreciated😄🫶thank you so much for reading, for sending these questions in, and for being an overall sweetheart, anon!

[separatist-apologist]

People who hate over fictional characters amaze me because I don't have the energy nor the time to carry any hate for anyone. It's too exhausting for me.

I don't care if people don't like characters. You're not gonna vibe with everyone, and that's fine. I've read books and I'm like, oh no thank you many, many times.

My issue is and always has been how people use the most dogshit arguments to justify their hatred and those arguments hurt actual, REAL people. Elain isn't fucking real, for example, and has no feelings to consider because she's words on a page. You can't hurt her- she isn't a person. But people write whole think pieces comparing eluciens to rapists/red pill incels for thinking there is something interesting between those two characters does hurt REAL people.

Not even mentioning how often people in this fandom go after real ass people, harassing them for not liking their personal faves. There is someone stalking the AO3 Feyre Archeron tag and harassing authors who write anything that could he perceived "anti", and uses actual slurs against real people in defense of a character who will NEVER thank you for it.

That's my issue. Victim blaming fictional characters- they don't care (not real), but the people who identify with the abuse, the assault, the story of triumph having to read your ill-informed, frankly dumb fucking opinion that they lied about their sexual assault because there were no witnesses (they apparently trust)? Real scenarios that happen so often it's the reason I have employment.

It's like, people can't just say "I don't vibe with this pair/ship/aesthetic". They have to make it their social justice cause as if there is any social justice that is built on bullying/harassing/being a piece of shit to real people. People who can't seperate fiction from reality and think if you like a fictional scenario/bad guy character, you OBVIOUSLY support that in real life. Enough nuance to understand why their faves committing crimes are fine, but everyone else should be openly bullied, and they'll follow them from social media site/discord chat to do it.

That's what I find exhausting, personally. Same people crying about how toxic the fandom is constantly baiting the other ships trying to start shit, stalking people who have them blocked, and acting like they have any moral high ground. It's pathetic, it's giving friendless energy, and I'm happy to see more and more people just blocking these types and engaging with creators/other fans who came here to have fun.

[goodluckclove]

oh clove the way you talk makes it sound like i'm never allowed to be angry or complain or talk shit online is that what you really think -

i don't know man. maybe? i mean not never. do whatever you want, i guess. i didn't develop as a person while active on any sort of social media platform and that apparently shaped my psyche in a pretty fundamental way, so i get i'm the outlier in this culture. but i'm on three platforms now and it really does look like the ratio of Raw ID versus like anything else is. um. fucked?

this isn't new information. people already have reported how sites like facebook adjust their algorithm so you're more likely to see something divisive. outrage means engagement. probably cross-platform engagement. big websites like that.

there're ways to express anger online that don't involve either shouting threats and insults until they stop replying, insisting they're some form of moral or ethical degenerate, or roleplaying as the snarkiest character in a sitcom they never got the script for. i don't think me saying this will keep any of that from happening at all. i am a small and impermanent presence on a few corners of the internet.

but yeah man it's fucking exhausting sometimes. and i'm not going to talk about it all the time. i don't need anyone to justify why it's actually cool and fun and good to complain constantly online. that's - yeah man. i hear you already and i'm nodding in vague acceptance. you'll probably go way farther on virtually any platform than i ever will in the long run.

meanwhile i'll probably keep occasionally popping up with some verbose iteration of "we could definitely all learn to adjust from the psychological conditioning provided for years by essentially every major platform".

[freshvanillapng]

Do you have a scene you really liked but weren't able to fit it in a fic? Would you care to share? Do you have a most recent favorite line or scene? What is it?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

oh man i wish i was confident enough to write and post a fic for a fandom. i am constantly in awe of all my mutuals who give such AMAZING pieces to read and brainrot over, and forever grateful.

all i can offer is a small piece written about a scene in my greek-inspired dnd campaign (trigger warning for dying, then not dying, then a decapitation i guess?)

this is the first time ive put any of my writing out on this site i think?? so um pls be nice lol

Context: My dnd character, Cyaro a demigod of Nyx, has challenged her step-mother to a duel for the fate of their people. It goes Badly but Cyaro pushes through, awakening dormant demigod abilities.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her knees buckled out from underneath her, body heavy as a thousand tiny cuts spilled her energy and resolve into the thick grass dyed crimson. Cyaro had failed. And now the fate of the world dies with them as they fall, further and further. All is quiet as they gaze up at the stars, the last comforting sight before they once again found themselves in that empty void between life and death, waiting for her brother to collect what was now his. How many times had she visited and yet never stayed? By their count it had to be at least four now. No one is supposed to evade death for that long. Flashes of a funeral in a wheat field appear at that thought. A purple body. A grave. Khantos’ tired posture as he spoke over it. Will her friends do the same for Cyaro’s passing?

The stars twinkle and glisten as time seems to slow. Cyaro is no longer aware of her mother’s presence, just her, her thoughts, and the beautiful stars. Another face comes to mind, seen only briefly at a table full of siblings they will never know. Grinning and jeering at their failures. Cyaro is sure Oizys will take great joy from their actions here at least. Seeking out their mother intending to put this whole hunting issue to rest and failing miserably. Losing her life, and losing any hope of defeating the Father of Monsters. Maybe Oizys won’t enjoy that bit as much.

The stars have encompassed everything now. Cyaro feels as though they are floating, all senses completely dulled. Must be the blood loss. All that swims around in their mind now is how foolish they have behaved. She was made very well aware of the risks of coming here, of declaring Maetha and yet, against all better judgement, Cyaro did it anyway. Following lines of prophecies from cards and flame. And now the world pays the price for her foolishness. Her friends pay. Thaem pays. All because of some idiotic notion that they wouldn't run this time. That they would be the heir and saviour their coven wanted them to be.

The one time Cyaro didn’t run ends in utter failure.

The stars grow brighter, too bright. Their confusion grows - Cyaro knows what it is like to die well enough now. They should be standing before Thanatos, quietly hoping for those ever familiar diamonds to appear in his hand and feeling overwhelming disappointment and regret when they don’t. Yet here they remain, in this sea of stars. There is no longer any pain, only the comforting cold tingle of their magic emanating from their core. As she drifts, the sensation spreads throughout her body until that is all she feels, all she can focus on, so much so it becomes overwhelming. The stars snap into too much focus and suddenly vertigo hits them as though falling out of a tree.

Everything rushes back to them all at once. The long grass underneath them, slick with blood. A cool breeze shifting through their hair. The tangy smell of sweat and iron. The low murmur of a crowd. Deep, exhausted breaths from above her. Cyaro does not dare look up. Instead, she grips her bow tightly, barely noticing how the stars cling to her skin and her joints, A small flick of the wrist and that deadly blade is hooked and flung far into the distance. Another small movement and an arrow is notched and fired, finding its mark just centimetres away. Gathering themselves, Cyaro stands drawing up their leg. It finds easy purchase in the chest of her overbearing mother, just below the arrow sprouting from her heart. Now it is her who falls to her knees, an expression of utter shock upon her lined face. The blood red markings making her out as Nothrim Emmel and whatever power she was drawing from begin to run like tears, leaving behind skin as empty as Cyaro’s own. 

Oizys probably still laughs as Cyaro clutches her mother’s snow white hair and draws the stygian ice blade across her throat. But no longer at her sibling. Instead, she likely laughs at a woman who has lost everything.

[enigma-the-mysterious]

the creator of #hindublr has said that it is not a space for politics. it is a safe space for bhakti. not for hinduphobes. please keep social issues out of it, especially if you don't identify as a hindu. freak.

I am thinking you are talking about this post?

Ho boy, several things to unpack here. But sure I will give it a shot

My dear anon, no one owns a tag. A tag is for everyone. This is the internet, no one needs anyone's permission to use a tag. You know what I do when I see someone irritating me on a tag I visit often? (you should see me scrolling through #musketeers, it's honestly annoying) I block that person! Simple! If you don't like seeing me on "your" tag, block me, you are welcome.

As it turns out, I do identify as a Hindu! Yes, I am a Dalit, yes I am also a Hindu, specifically a bhakt of Ma Kali, a proud devotee of Shakti and all its forms, the divine primordial energy. Does that satisfy you anon? Is that valid enough of a ticket to speak out about the very real experiences, that I, also a Hindu, face in the Hindu community? Does that permit me to speak about my experiences as a Dalit hindu in #hindublr? Or is it only a tag where you are allowed to post only what the savarnas are comfortable with? Should the savarnas be dictating what we post on Tumblr now too, anon?

Man, I truly envy people who can afford to brush the atrocities and human rights violation the Dalits in this country face daily under the rug of "political" issues and blissfully ignore it. Privilege must be so freeing, I wish had that. Constantly talking about my and my people's oppression in this society is so exhausting. But alas, I have to. Because, if I won't, who will? Definitely not privileged savarnas like you, who are uncomfortable at the mere reminder that a whole class of people are hatecrimed in this country.

Talking about the atrocities Dalits face in the Hindu community, the discrimination I face in this society, makes me a Hinduphobe, but the ones doing the oppression, the ones committing the atrocities against a class, many of whom also identify as a Hindu, doesn't make them a Hinduphobe??

Yeah, I am a freak. We are on Tumblr, idiot! It's not the #normal people life is so amazing site.

Also, I am glad my post is making savarnas uncomfortable. It should!

[ourpickwickclub]

Not only does Jenee have a cowrite with ML but ML’s hubby has a cowrite on her latest song too. One of the country media sites was rolling their eyes at it saying he probably threw one word in there. It’s just a means to try to get him some money. Maybe he renegotiated his contract for royalties instead of direct payment. Little did he know he’ll be making a lot less that way. She’s shrewd. I’ll give her that. It would exhaust me to be constantly scheming. Maybe because I’m no good at it.

.

[ms-hells-bells]

Radblr is kinda toxic now. I'm going to unfollow radfems who are persistently engaging in useless arguments like who "true" radfems are. Why does that even matter ?? I miss the old radblr where people had the maturity to understand that it is impossible to follow everything in an ideology in real life.

Honestly it's a waste of time to be on radblr. I wanted to be a better person through radical feminism. But I think people have reached a saturation and we are not getting any good ideas passed around. I feel like I have gained what I can from this community. And I'd like to thank you too. It really did wonders for my self esteem and changed my perspective on how i see everything.

all good. it's just a website. you can curate the kind of environment you want, but if you don't have the time, or years to do so, then it may not be worth it. let me tell you though, that there has been constant arguing since this community has existed, it's what happens with any large or growing online group. there were just as many dumb arguments back in 2014.

but likely for women who have been involved in radical feminism for years, the only thing you'll really gain from radblr is community, and if you don't feel that, then maybe not worth it being on here. you could also just use it purely for blogging purposes, rather than interacting. don't scroll and look at stuff, use it as a diary for your thoughts and ideas, and see if there's any responses you want to interact with on your own posts, otherwise staying away from the site.

i think constant debating is good and prevents complacency and hivemind in a movement, but it is mentally exhausting and not good to be constantly doing.