#but the threat is still there in the back of his mind ‘they’ll never find your body’ Asterin told him

[pergaminaa]

Modern au stuff for the witches and their witchlings:

Asterin does end up with her hunter, and she has two daughters although her eldest daughter is actively trying to get rid of her baby sister. At one point, she made peace with it “if Luna survives early childhood then she’s meant to live in this world” because at one point the one year old would run and hide as soon as she spots her big sister and that’s survival instinct

Vesta didn’t really plan on much she was okay with only one kid but she ended up with a boy/girl twins and she’s content with them

Manon was still very on the fence and was toying with the idea of having only one child because she’s been thinking!!!! But Asterin gave her the grim reminder “they can be twins, or triplets or—“

“You’re not helping,” Sorrel snaps at her

“I’m just stating the facts!” Because Manon, smart as she is, will overlook this detail in her overthinking and stressing. But as Sorrel said, she wasn’t helping by stating that fact.

It took Manon a while, and when she decided to have a child, she prayed to every existing diety that she only ends up conceiving one child and not multiples.

Because at one point, Manon realized that she’s happy with Dorian. Their family is perfect and she never felt more content and happy. She sat with herself for a long time, and realized that she will not let her grandmother dictate her life any longer. Her fear of becoming a mother is yet another leash around her neck. She knows that with Dorian everything will be okay. She will be okay. Their future child will be okay.

[hyunsvngs]

halloscream

was it jeongsung in the bedroom?

warnings 🔪: poly relationship dynamics, they’re serial killers, knifeplay, clitplay, unprotected sex, oral (m rec), bloodplay (be warned about this one, it’s not their blood), one whole line of daddy kink, mxm as well as fxm

it’s getting late. they’re late, to be more precise, but you feel as if you look at the window again it will feel like even longer. you tap away at your keyboard. it’s too quiet - the house is empty with your parents out at dinner. normally your two boyfriends would be making enough noise to drown out the everlasting silence, but again, they’re nowhere to be seen. your foot taps against the carpet impatiently underneath your desk.

a noise from your back garden catches your attention. nothing too loud, just a rustle of leaves and a few small thuds, but it has you rising from your computer chair to check it out. jisung would chastise you. “don’t you know horror movies?” he’d say, eyes round and wide, “investigating a strange noise is how you die, jagi.” still, you’re pissed that they’re late, and you also know full well that your boyfriends are the only threat to your small, isolated town. 

it started last year. jeongin came bursting through your window, clad in a halloween costume drenched in blood, and you laughed in his face thinking it was fake. it wasn’t fake. jisung followed closely behind him, a knife in his hand still messy with the efforts of their mission, and you almost had a heart attack. jeongin had to sit you down and explain, but really, there’s not a lot of explaining you can do when your girlfriend finds out you’ve been killing students from the local high school. 

they’re psychopathic, to put it lightly, but surely you are too - one toothy smile from jeongin and a comforting rub of jisung’s hand on your back was all it took. you’d accepted it all. 

now, you stand at your window, sticking your head out of the open pane of glass. the autumn air is crisp and it bites at your flushed, alarmed cheeks. when you can’t see anything through the darkness, you sigh, pulling your body back into your room. it’s not them. you turn to make your way back to the computer. maybe they’ll call before they come, just to let you know not to be scared and-

“ugh,” jeongin’s voice groans from behind you. your head whips around, shocked to see that he actually looks reasonably presentable. he’s in their signature costume, long, pitch black fabric drowning his lightly toned frame, and he carries the matching mask in his hand. “i thought you’d at least help me inside, baby. are your parents even home? i could’ve just used the front door.”

there’s other things on your mind. you’re pissed he’s late, and your arms fold over your chest. “where’s the other one?” your voice is dismissive, as if you don’t care about where jeongin’s partner-in-crime normally is. of course you care. one of your boys never comes without the other - quite literally - and you try to peek behind jeongin to see the missing boy. he crowds in through your window to block your vision, toned arms and long legs climbing through his chosen entry point. 

“he’s on his way,” jeongin says. the mask drops from his hand to the floor in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in, the fabric of his halloween costume scratching against your bare collarbones. you’re in one of jisung’s old oversized shirts, and the neckline is stretched beyond belief. your hands soften the impact by bracing themselves on his shoulders. “he got caught up with something. you understand, right?”

he feels like he’s everywhere in your room at once, an aura that only jeongin could have wrapped around you. it’s all it takes to calm you down, to forget about the fact that they didn’t even call, and then you’re focusing on the feeling of something solid pressing into your thigh. 

your hand moves down. his eyes follow the movement, narrowed, head tilting to the side as if he’s daring you to touch. you do, because you always rise to jeongin’s challenges. your fingers wrap around the object with a mischievous giggle. “is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?”

“that’s a knife,” he responds, quick as a bat. his hand wraps around your wrist and moves you a few inches to the right, positioning your hand over his actual cock and oh. it’s throbbing, and you can feel the way the shaft hardens further in your hand, even through the layers of fabric. you blink up at him, all coy through your lashes, and he raises an eyebrow. “i’m hard because i just killed someone, and that’s turning you on. do you know how fucked up that is?”

“it’s even more fucked up to be hard after killing someone,” you say, hands moving to his hips. you begin a backwards walk to your bed, pulling him along with you. jeongin’s more than happy to follow. his body slides between your legs easily, erection pressing into the middle of your sleep shorts, right above your core, and you try to catch his lips with yours. he moves away from your face with that signature cheeky grin, one that only jeongin could pull off. “why? first you’re late, and now no kiss? don’t wind me up, jeonginnie.”

“i’m gonna lick your pussy, that’s why,” his voice is low, tone steady. it makes a shiver run down your spine, but you’re nodding, letting your thighs fall apart. jeongin’s grin widens at the effect he has on you. he’s still in that stupid costume, but you watch his body slide down your bed until his face is nuzzling into your core.

you can’t help it. you’re curious, and they may say curiosity kills the cat, but well - the only thing killing anyone is rutting his nose into the covered pudge of your clit. “who did you kill?”

“what?” he scoffs, pulling your sleep shorts to the side with two long, gloved fingers. the texture of his gloves is cold against your heated mound, and you stutter out a breath, hands moving to the sheets beside you. “does it matter, jagi?”

“y-yeah, it does,” you whine when he dips down, tongue licking over your clit for the first time tonight. he’s talented with his mouth, but he’s normally better with his fingers. jisung’s forte is oral, and you let your mind wander again. where is he? you’re missing the essential third piece in your beloved psychopathic throuple.

when he speaks again, the vibrations hit your pussy. “he was a lowlife. don’t worry about it. he deserved to die.”

“you say that about e-everyone- oh my god,” he sucks your clit into his mouth as you’re speaking. it makes you surge from the bed, back arching, hand weaving into his hair to pull and tug to where you need him to be. jeongin’s malleable like that, letting you grind your pussy up into his mouth while he presses his tongue flat against the sensitive bud. “fuck. fuck, jeonginnie, innie, please, baby-“

“jesus, man. that was a ballache. y’know, would’ve been easier if maybe there were two of us like there’s meant to be, or-” your head snaps to your window. jeongin’s mouth stops moving, but he kisses your clit as an apology. 

sure, you would normally jump at the sight of someone standing in your bedroom dressed in a full halloween costume, ghostface mask and all. however, you’ve already received one of your male visitors tonight and you know that voice all too well - especially when it’s paired with a short stature and fumbling hands gripping at his mask. you see jisung’s appalled expression once the mask is gone, dropped to the floor to join jeongin’s, round eyes staring at his boyfriend’s position between your legs. “you seriously started without me?! c’mon man, don’t piss me off!”

jeongin only shrugs and nuzzles his nose against your mound to get your attention. you turn back to the boy, running your fingers through his hair comfortingly. he resumes the fat licks he’s giving your core, broad and messy and too fucking good. “iyennie’s being nice and eating my- ah- pussy, baby,” jisung’s staring at you, bouncing from one foot to the other. “you could’ve too, if you weren’t late.”

“wha-“ jisung splutters. he’s already toeing his boots off, yanking the costume over his head to reveal the baggy jeans and black tank he’s got on underneath. the sight of his honey-toned arms against the dark fabric is enough to make your mouth water, but then he drops his jeans and you can see his erection pressing against the front of his boxers. jeongin ignores him, sucking your pussy hard with a soothing hum. your labia stretches with it, and then he flicks his tongue over your clit so fast that your legs kick out. jisung catches them. “not my fault. jeonginnie made me do all the cleanup and the fucking theatrics and shit. this guy bled like a pig too, baby, so-“

“hyung,” jeongin chastises, eyes flitting over to him. when he pulls his head back, his chin is covered in drool and your arousal. you want to lick it clean. you’re barely even paying attention to what your boys are bickering about. “don’t get into the gory details.”

jisung stops in his tracks, trousers wrapped around his ankles. he looks at you. you shiver. he looks at jeongin, and jeongin raises an eyebrow, challenging again. “don’t you know?” jisung’s grin is wide, mischievous. “she likes hearing the gory details. go on, tell her.”

jeongin’s lips part in surprise. he looks at you, scrutinising. “is that so? you wanna hear how i gutted that guy and jisungie hung him from a tree?”

you can’t help it. with his words, jeongin slides two fingers inside of you, curling them so harshly it makes your eyes water. you let out a keen, trying to reach out to pull jisung onto the bed, but he’s too far. he seems to get it, knee-walking onto the mattress until he’s positioned next to you. his hand doesn’t stay out of his boxers for long, sliding beneath the tight fabric. you watch him grip his shaft and pump slowly at the sight in front of him. 

“do you wanna know who it was?” jeongin continues. his thumb slides to rub over your clit, and your thighs tremble. you’re moaning, nodding, babbling pleadings and little ‘yes’s that fall from your mouth urgently. jeongin chuckles. “your little friend from your math class. see, i wasn’t too mad about it, but jisung said he was trying to fuck you.”

“god, fuckin- he pissed me off, baby, ‘m sorry,” jisung whines, and your head is spinning. you’re reeling. jeongin thrusts his fingers a little harder, a little faster, and you’re struggling to concentrate. jisung’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip once, twice, eyes flitting between you and jeongin as if he’s not quite sure who to look at. “he was t-too nice to you, he- he wanted you. you’re ours.”

you’ve barely spoken to the guy from your math class - in all honesty, you’re not quite sure of his name, but now that you think about it… yeah. he was a little touchy, a little flirty, maybe too kind and considerate in letting you copy his work. it all adds up, but he’s taken care of now. you don’t have to worry about it. you never have to worry about anything with your boys around.

jisung pushes his boxers down, and his shaft slaps up against the base of his tummy, not too long but girthy enough to make your mouth water. he catches your gaze and uses his grip to slap it against his skin a little more, precum forming a thin trail attaching the cockhead to his tank top. “fuck. s-suck it, baby, won’t you?” 

“cum first,” jeongin insists. jisung grumbles in protest, but jeongin’s thumb presses harder on your clit, and he reels backwards to spit down against your pussy. the slap of his hand against your core is debauched, messy, and your eyes flutter shut. it’s too good. you’re gonna cum. “cum for me. fucking give it to me. my little fucked up baby, huh? that turned you on, didn’t it?”

“y-yeah! yes, yes, of course, y-you two are- fuck, too much, too much, i’m gonna cum,” you’re babbling again, and when your hand shoots out to grip onto something jisung catches it with his own spare hand. he links your fingers together, and jeongin dips down, finally, finally pressing his lips against yours. it’s all just enough and you feel like you’re dying, shots of electricity running through you, core gushing your release over jeongin’s wrist while he slides his tongue into your mouth. 

you’re given barely any time to come down. jeongin’s hand reels back and slaps your pussy. “hands and knees f’me. head between hyung’s legs.”

you scramble against your bedsheets, limbs kicking out and positioning your body face down in the sheets below jisung’s cock. jeongin moves behind you, yanking your sleep shorts down with a wet, still gloved hand. 

“you liked hearing what we d-did, baby, yeah?” jisung questions, and you whine, nodding. you did. secretly, in a dark place you try not to go into, you want their knives pressed against you and making you bleed while they fuck you. the thought makes your pussy clench down around nothing. 

jisung’s fingers move to your hair, yanking you forward until you’re nosing at his cock. you slide your tongue over his shaft just briefly, nuzzling your nose into the hair at his base, but it’s not long before he’s slapping his cock against your cheek impatiently. “shiiiit, jeonginnie, get inside already. i need her mouth so fucking bad, i’m so fucking hard.”

“just take it,” jeongin fumbles with his belt behind you. you hear the tell-tale clanging of metal, and then the rustling of fabric. his cockhead presses against your hole unceremoniously, blunt and thick, and you try to rut backwards onto it. jisung’s grip prohibits you, and he drags you upwards above his cock to finally press his tip between your lips. 

they both slide in together. jeongin’s thick shaft stretches you beyond belief, making you moan hard around jisung’s cock. you’re glad your parents aren’t home. jisung squirms from the vibrations, and before jeongin can start moving, he’s bouncing your head on his shaft. 

you can see his eyes roll back into his head, lips parting with a sharp whine. you feel like a ragdoll. it has you getting even wetter. “t-that’s it. fuckin’ beautiful mouth, my baby, so dirty, lemme- jus’ lemme fuckin’ take it, god, please.”

jeongin thrusts into you once, twice, testing movements that have your pussy all creamy and easy around him. he sighs, positions his large palms on your ass, and then he starts thrusting at a breakneck speed that has you bouncing between their cocks. you feel used. your clit aches for touch, hard and sensitive above where your hole is getting decimated. 

jisung pulls your head up to give you air, his hand polishing his cockhead. you’re immediately babbling. “fuck, you- jeongin, j-jeonginnie, the knife. will you- will you use it? o-on me? please?”

jisung moans. his hand moves between his legs, pumping his cock quickly in front of your face. it leaks against your lips. jeongin’s hips halt, pressing deep inside you. “the knife? baby, i don’t know.”

“get it, iyennie,” jisung nudges jeongin with his toes. you don’t miss the way jeongin’s cock twitches inside of you. “get mine. it still has blood on it.”

“oh my god,” you moan, wiggling backwards onto jeongin. you can tell his face must be a picture right now because jisung laughs, loud albeit shaky, and he reaches down onto the floor into the pocket of jisung’s jeans to reveal the offending object. he throws it to jisung, who brands it to you, showing that yeah, really, it’s still got someone else’s blood on it. it should be disgusting, moreso terrifying, but when the blade presses against your neck you wriggle just enough to get jisung’s cock back into your mouth. 

“see? f-fucking look at her,” jisung says, voice pitched higher. the angle is awkward, but he manages to fuck his cock into your mouth in tiny, shallow thrusts while the blunt edge of the blade is against your skin. he wouldn’t turn it the other way, not seriously when he knows he might lose control and hurt you. the idea has you keening. “she fucking loves it.”

“yeah? is that true?” jeongin sounds gravelly, throat hoarse, and he starts to fuck into you again. the slide is smooth with how wet you’ve gotten, and your pussy clings to him on every outwards thrust, dragging him back inside of you. jisung pushes harder and the knife presses harder. “hannie. hyung, be- be careful.”

“don’t need to be,” jisung responds, quick, and yanks your head upwards so you’re just suckling on his cockhead. you’ve been drooling all over it, and the feeling of your wet mouth around the most sensitive part of him makes his thighs tremble. he’s close. he never lasts long in your mouth, and you reach one hand up from your position, running a thumb over the creased skin of his ballsack. his foot shoots out so sharply it kicks jeongin in the thigh. “fuck! sorry, sorry aegi, i’m- i’m close, i-“

“already?” jeongin chuckles, but his thrusts are beginning to stagger too. he’s just as close as his boyfriend is, and the blood smearing on your throat has you clenching so hard you think you might be, too. jeongin’s pace quickens, and despite it being messy and uncalculated you let your head fall to jisung’s hip with a moan. he’s fine to strip his cock in your face, body curled over you to hold the knife to your neck, and you nuzzle downwards to suck his balls into your mouth.

“yes! yesyesyes, baby, oh, yeah! just like that, my baby, gonna- i’ll cum, fuck, on your face, you want it?”

“fuck. fuck, daddy, please,” you keen, and you watch in real time how it affects your boyfriend. jisung’s eyebrows scrunch together, pouty lips forming the perfect o as his cock spurts ropes of cum onto your head. it’s imprecise, landing mostly on your forehead and in your hair, and you squeal when jeongin yanks you back by the same messy strands. 

“daddy? fuckin’ really?” he pulls you into him, almost fully sat in his lap, and uses a hand he slides up your shirt to bounce you on top of him. you’re out of it. the blood has smeared all over your neck and stained the neck of your shirt, but you don’t care, whinging and gripping onto jeongin’s lithe thighs. his balls slap against your clit like this, and you can see jisung’s cock perking in interest already.

“this is fuckin’ hot! aegi, make her cum. wan’ see it.”

“you already saw it, i need to- i gotta cum now,” jeongin gasps, teeth biting into your shoulder. it’s too much. 

“no, jeonginnie, please! make me- please make me cum!”

he gives in. jisung will tease him about this later. his fingers move to your clit despite his words, and with only a few precisely formed circles onto the bud you’re creaming on his cock with another pathetic squeal. the sensitivity rises quickly, and it has tears biting at your eyes, but jeongin continues to fuck into you like you’re nothing more than a warm hole. maybe that’s all you are. the thought has your pussy clenching down again, and he thrusts deep before he fills you up with a shout, thick and warm inside of you.

jisung stretches his limbs with a sigh, thumb and index finger rubbing over his cockhead. it’s all too wet, and jeongin slides his softening cock out of your hole with a groan. the knife clatters unceremoniously to the floor. before you can whine and make a fuss over the cum still on your face, jeongin grabs hold of your hair and presses his tongue against your skin.

“when do i get a kiss?” jisung protests, cock still soft against his tank top. “no kisses for hannie even after all that hard work. this is unjust. unfair. it’s wrong, i would say.”

you watch jeongin surge across the bed and feed jisung his own cum from his lips. it’s dirty, and jisung’s shaft twitches valiantly against his tummy when he kisses back, tongues intertwining amidst the high pitched noise he makes. you let them kiss for a bit, and then you wriggle yourself up to your boys. the elder welcomes you with open arms, and jeongin pulls away from his lips with a wet sound, collapsing onto jisung’s shoulder.

“welcome home,” you chirp, and jeongin chuckles sleepily. jisung only pulls you into his chest further, fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin of your arm. “will i be expecting any more late nights this week?”

“tomorrow,” jeongin yawns. his head rests on jisung’s shoulder. you’re pretty sure he’s drooling already. jisung’s eyes flutter shut, at peace. “it’s the build up to halloween, baby. we’re busy these days, but we’ll always make time for you.”

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Gyutaro NSFW Profile

Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader

Tw: non-con, dub-con, stalking, kidnapping, Gyutaro threatens a couple to let him watch them have sex, exhibitionism, masturbation, period sex, spitting, minor implications of somnophilia, mentions of physical violence, threats, murder, Gyutaro is a freak and likes to hold your hand during sex, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 13K

HABITS:

Generally speaking, Gyutaro has never really touched himself. Perhaps when he was younger, still a human and going through puberty, but for the vast, vast majority of Gyutaro’s life, his demon biology has rendered every sexual urge he feels dulled to the point of disappearing.

That said, he’s still able to grow jealous at hearing when human partners are intimate with one another, their moans and cries grating on his ears and making him scowl, anger simmering in his veins because why can’t he have that?

Sure, he could find some random human woman and take what he wants from her, but there’s something about the way humans clutch onto one another, moaning out praises and begging for more that enticing Gyutaro, making him feel shy and bashful and pissed because he knows that will never be him. He’ll never have a woman gasping his name in anything other than fear, and although he’s accepted it, he’s wildly jealous.

However, because his actual sexual urges themselves are diminished, Gyutaro more often finds himself jealous than horny – a stark difference between the two. And consequently, he has minimal experience with masturbation, and he frankly doesn’t care. His logistical situation with Daki makes finding the time to touch himself in his own private space extremely difficult. Plus, there’s something awfully pitiful about wrapping his fingers around his cock with the knowledge that they’ll only ever be his fingers, no one else’s – something that makes him warble and scratch himself bloody, effectively killing any libido he’d managed to feel.

But with all of that said, things begin changing once his infatuation with you develops. He’s not immediately wishing to fuck you, but as Gyutaro becomes more comfortable with the idea of intimacy with you, lewd thoughts start tainting the edges of his mind, turning the relatively innocent fantasy of cuddling with you into grinding against your ass, grasping your thigh and lifting it up just barely so that he can slot himself inside, breathing hard into your ear and growling, the sound throaty and heady and so very needy.

And really, is that so unnatural?

Sure, his libido isn’t the strongest, but imagining the woman he thinks he’s in love with to be naked and laid out underneath him isn’t out of the ordinary, right?

He’s sure all men think about the depraved thoughts that start worming their way into his imagination – they’re mostly questions, really, tying into his obsessiveness and desperation to learn as much about you as he possibly can.  

He’s idly wondering how you sound when you moan – is it airy, high-pitched, low, gasping?

How do you look when you come? Does your face scrunch up, does your mouth drop open, do you close your eyes, does your back arch, do you curl your toes, do you reach out and grasp at anything you can find?

What’s your favorite position? He’d be willing to try all of them if you’d like, if you’re unsure – Gyutaro secretly thinks his own favorite will be having you on top, your pretty tits mere inches from his lips and giving him a perfect view of both your own face and your cunt sucking him in again and again and again, the sight making him dizzy with pleasure and forcing him to grasp your hips and fuck up into you, just to hear you gasp and moan and scream his name.

Have you ever squirted? He hopes no man has ever touched you at all, much less made you squirt, but Gyutaro swears he’ll get you to do it – he wants to feel your release all over his face, coating his fingers, tongue, chin, and cock, smeared across every inch of his skin and worn proudly.

Do you like to be praised or degraded, and do you like your lovers vocal? Gyutaro sure hopes so, because he knows he won’t be able to shut up when he’s buried balls deep inside you, your wet, warm, tight walls clenching down on him and forcing curse after groans out of him, practically milking him for both his cum and his moans. He wouldn’t mind praising or degrading you – what naturally slips out of his mouth when he’s fucking his fist is a healthy mix of both, imagining you in front of him and calling you my perfect slut or something of the sort.

Do you groom yourself, keeping everything perfectly smooth and shaved, or do you let nature takes its course? He hopes it’s the latter – he wants to relish in your scent, to bury his face between your legs and inhale deeply, getting a nose full of you, something made much easier when your hair and pheromones are tickling his cheeks.

(While he prefers you to not shave, Gyutaro himself will try to clean himself up routinely – starting way before he steals you away, just so that he can learn how to do it, to make sure he knows how to so that he doesn’t embarrass himself the first time you see him naked. The thought already embarrasses him enough – to have his body open to your scrutiny, to feel you looking at him, and he really doesn’t need the extra stress. Luckily for him, his quick regeneration means no accidental knicks with the razor knife last long – unfortunately, it also means that any cut hair regrows almost instantaneously, much to his displeasure. He’s hopeful you won’t be too disgusted by his pubes the first time you see him – though the dark hairs do a good job of framing the very, very long cock hanging between his legs.)

Quite honestly, he stalks you with such intensity and consistency that he’ll know the answer to many of these questions before long – he's memorized how you look when you come, your face ingrained into his brain and flashing behind his eyelids when he’s orgasming himself. But it’s different to be thinking about something like that – something so naughty. Gyutaro spends his time idly wondering these questions, a pale pink blooming on his cheeks because it’s just so dirty and you’re so very sweet, and thinking of you in such a lewd light almost makes him feel guilty.

Almost, because then he sees you, hiding from the shadows and getting the smallest whiff of your scent every few seconds, and then suddenly all guilt is gone because fuck, he needs you.

However, Gyutaro is still oddly shy about certain things with you. As such, when he first begins fantasizing about fucking you, there’s that small, annoyingly human part of him that worries if you’ll find him revolting once he’s fully nude in front of you, vulnerable to your facial expressions and any words of negative reaction.

He’s terrified, really, that you’ll find him unattractive or too repulsive to sleep with. He wants you to want him, to need him as he needs you, and if you were to call him ugly, a monster, anything of the sort? Well, it would take the demon a long, long time to recover from such a blow to his heart, old wounds tearing open fresh to endure another bout of pain.

And so, in a panicked and a frantic attempt to avoid any negative criticism from you once your intimate relationship begins, Gyutaro decides that he needs to learn more about actual sex, not just the crude, vulgar words he hears from the human men around him. If he wants to have any hope at making you actually enjoy sex with him (something he desperately, desperately wants), Gyutaro feels that he needs to see the real thing, to observe carefully and take notes.

Luckily, it’s not particularly hard to find a coupling around the Entertainment District, sneaking across roofs and peeking into windows until he hears moans and slapping sounds and sees writhing bodies and smells the musty, acrid odor of sex. And once he does, Gyutaro is quick to step down into the room, his presence casting a shadow against the moonlight and candle light of the room, the couple immediately stopping and staring at him in fear.

Before either person has a chance to scream, Gyutaro’s rushing forward, a hand covering each mouth and a sneer on his face as he tells the man that he’s so lucky, having a pretty woman to fuck every night… show me.

The man’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head underneath Gyutaro’s hand, causing the demon’s sneer to fall into a scowl. He needs to see this couple make love – he needs tips and advice, to see how it really goes. Plus, the woman’s body is somewhat similar to yours – perhaps you have similar spots that feel particularly good, and Gyutaro will take any and every scrap of information and ideas he can in order to make eventual sex with you good.

Anything to get you moaning his name and pulling at his hair and begging him for more.

Let me watch you fuck her, or I’ll kill you both. What’s your choice, huh? Gyutaro holds eye contact with the man, watching him debate, feeling the woman trembling and crying under his other hand.

His eye twitches – damn this man for loving the woman, because his slight hesitation in answering means he doesn’t want Gyutaro to see her nude, vulnerable, exposed, and it’s making Gyutaro imagine someone propositioning him this about you. Violent images of how he’d slaughter and kill whoever was threatening to see you moaning and gasping and naked flash through his mind, making him grit his teeth and press against their mouths harder.

At that, the man frantically nods yes, and Gyutaro snickers. Eh, you bastard, letting me watch you touch your woman? Pathetic, man, pathetic.

He takes his hands off their mouths, bracing himself for any screams, but when none come he smiles – a mean, twisted smile. I want to see everything, you know? Start over, act like I’m not here. I’m just watching, so give me a good show but be natural! I’ll kill you if you’re not natural.

Gyutaro scratches at his chest as he settles back against a wall on the side of the room, watching as the couple shakily sits up. The woman is still crying, but the man cups her cheek in his palm, swallowing hard, before slotting his lips against hers. The woman immediately begins kissing him back, the motions slow and hesitant.

Gyutaro growls, his voice forceful as he tells them to kiss harder, I’ll cut off your lips if you don’t.

That gets the two of them moving faster, the audible wet noises as her tongue slips into his mouth making Gyutaro lick his lips. It’s all too easy to imagine you in the woman’s place and him in the man’s, his hand sitting at your breast just as the man’s is, idly squeezing and playing with her nipple. They spend a few more moments kissing, before the man carefully pushes the woman back, laying her down with her legs spread over, her hands held over her head.

They’re still kissing, and Gyutaro’s hand snakes down to cup at his bulge, the idea of wet noises and hovering over you making his breath short. He’s watching them seemingly without blinking, reaching down past the top hem of his pants and firmly clutching at this balls, squeezing harshly and making him hiss through his teeth as the man shimmeys down, kissing and licking at the woman’s breasts.

She keens, biting her lip and trying to not look at Gyutaro, the man using his thumb and index finger to roll her nipple, pinching and tugging while flicking his tongue over its twin. Gyutaro pulls his hands out of his pants briefly to spit into his palm, hand slithering back into his pants and gripping the base of his cock in a death grip.

He’s painfully hard at this point – the man’s head is suddenly between the woman’s thighs, and Gyutaro’s moving forward before he can even think about, still gripping himself under his pants as he nears the bed, wanting an up-close view of the man’s actions. They both tense at this, but Gyutaro scoffs.

Keep going, yeah? Just needed a better view.

The man swallows but obeys, tongue flicking out to lick a long stripe from her folds up and over her clit, making her sigh. Soon his tongue is flicking out and licking at the small bud, fingers pulling up to expose the area and make access easier. Gyutaro mentally notes that away – he knows women like when men play with their clit, and perhaps you’d be impressed by his knowledge of this, or the way he’ll pull your lips up, just so he can fully see that pretty, throbbing pearl on you.

The man’s free hand moves up to run a few fingers through her folds, his fingers suddenly soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight. Gyutaro licks his lips – god, he wants to taste you so bad, his tastebuds tingling and his mouth literally salivating at the thought of tasting your lips, what’s between your legs, even your tears. Gyutaro’s hand slowly moves up, hand slicked with spit lessening the friction and making him lowly groan. The man slips a finger inside her, the woman’s small moan making the man’s brows twitch together.

Gyutaro’s careful to watch the man’s pacing – his tongue is licking steady, consistent circles over her clit, while his fingers are thrusting slowly, carefully, adding a second finger after a few moments. Would you like the same pacing? Gyutaro’s not sure, but the hand not diligently pumping at his cock beneath his pants mimics the same finger motion as the man, his tongue slipping out to mimic licking small circles. He matches the man’s pace, wide yellow eyes slowly starting to go half-lidded from the pleasure of his fingers wrapped around his girth.

Tell me what feels best, woman.

He’ll snarl, keeping an eye on the way the man tenses up but doesn’t stop his actions. The woman’s flushed, her eyes darting to him before quickly looking away.

When – ah, when he curls his fingers up, fuck, and little circles on – oh! She cuts herself off with a moan, and Gyutaro (irritated that she didn’t finish but too focused on her instructions) repeats the words over and over in his head, modifying the hand motion he’s practicing to closely resemble her descriptions.

His fist moves a bit faster, creating a deft thump motion each time his fingers bump into his navel. The sound of the man fingering the woman is so, so very lewd, too – it’s wet, a squelching noise that makes Gyutaro drool, the idea that you’d be that wet making his throat dry, his hips bucking forward against his fist involuntarily.

Fuck her, now, ngh…

The man gulps, wiping the woman’s slick off of his lips and chin, and Gyutaro feels a particularly large glob of precum dribble from his tip, the extra lubrication making his pleasure just that much sharper.

Start over her.

He instructs as the man moves to hover over her, nodding at the demon’s words and slotting himself between her legs. Gyutaro watches intently as the man grips the base of his cock, aligning his tip with your hole, pushing forward and letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. Gyutaro sucks in a sharp breath – would you feel that good inside? He's sure you would; you’re so pretty and sexy, of course you have the best cunt. He bets it’s incredibly warm, wet enough to leave his cock, navel, and upper thighs coated in no time, and god you’d be so fucking tight, gripping him hard enough to make pulling out of you nearly impossible-

The woman lets out a wanton moan as the man starts moving, the pace immediately fast and bruising. The sound of his balls clapping against her ass fills the room, and Gyutaro pants, his fist moving faster and faster, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He transitions from moving his arm to thrusting his stationary fist, matching the man’s pacing and imagining it’s you getting fucked, that your cries are the ones ringing in his ears and it’s your pretty tits that are bouncing and jiggling with the force of the thrusts.

From behind – shit, from behind! He instructs, his voice strained with his impending orgasm.

The man listens, pulling out and carefully slipping her over, slipping back inside and listening to the way the woman cries out. Gyutaro’s eyes focus on her breasts as they sway and jiggle – you have a very similar size, and just the thought of him fucking you hard enough to get your tits moving makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment, eyebrows drawing tightly together at the thought.

This sight is even more erotic than the last position – it’s all too easy to imagine it’s him pulling at your hips, smacking his own against your ass again and again, making you feel him so deep, deep enough to get you chanting his name like a fucking prayer. Gyutaro moves forward and uses his free hand to grab the man’s, forcing his fingers into her hair and pushing her face down against the mattress, the new position making the man groan and the woman shudder.

Gyutaro curses, letting go and putting all his effort into fucking his fist to the same tempo, trying to match the man’s perfectly. He wants to fuck you like this, he decides – leaning over you like some sort of animal, mounting you, fucking you in the most raw, animalistic way.

You’d look so damn pretty, and he’s sure your pussy would make wet noises like hers is, your slick dripping down your thighs and your pleas to give you more more more please Gyutaro, need your cum!

Gyutaro gasps hard as cum sprays all along the inside of his pants, his fist slowing to a stop as he rides out his high, eyes half lidded and all sorts of groans and sharp exhales filling the room.

The couple stares, bewildered, unsure of what to do – he’s still fucking her but more gently, and Gyutaro smirks at them, still dazed from the pleasure and the idea of doing this to you. Licking his lips, he climbs onto the windowsill, glancing over his shoulder at them.

I’m coming back tomorrow night. He stares at the woman, a wide smile splitting across his features. You’re gonna show me how to suck cock right, yeah? Gotta make sure I can guide her when she-

He stops, swallowing, his cheeks still blushed from his orgasm and from the vulgar idea of you taking him down his throat.

Don’t you tell anyone about this, eh? I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.

And with that, he’s gone, disappeared from the windowsill and leaving the man and woman to embrace each other, shaking in fear. Meanwhile, Gyutaro’s running from roof to roof, adrenaline filling his veins because he has to see you now – he’s too pent up, and he needs to see you in person. As expected, you’re asleep by the time he reaches your home, sitting on your window edge, licking his lips and breathing hard.

You’re so fucking pretty – he crawls closer, acutely aware to be quiet and not wake you. You’d fallen asleep on your futon, the blanket still neatly folded in the corner, and Gyutaro swallows before grabbing the cloth, pulling it over you and up to your chin, his hands trembling.

He sighs, his fingers itching to reach out and touch you, to bend you into the positions he’d seen the couples trying, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to wake you, doesn’t want you to be aware of his presence quite yet. He has to be patient, good – he’ll allow himself one pleasure, however, as he dips a finger inside his pants, scooping up some of his still warm cum and gently, gingerly smearing it across your lips, practically moaning at the sight of white against your skin.

You’re just so, so perfect – it almost makes him sick, but as he returns to the couple the next night, demanding the woman get on her knees, Gyutaro can’t help but shiver.

It may take him a while to actually touch you, but god, he’ll be ready.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your stomach

In general, one of the things that Gyutaro finds he adores about you as his obsession festers is how opposite the two of you are. Regardless of your weight, you are physically different from him – and Gyutaro notices this early on.

That is, his body is essentially just bone – skin stretched to cover his skeleton, while you have lovely warm, squishy skin covering your curves and pretty body. You’re so fucking soft – nothing on you can possibly be as hard as he is, and from the moment he first holds your waist with a slightly shaking hand he can’t help but notice this difference every time he looks at you.

He grows to love feeling the areas on you that hold the most squishiness, and his favorite place of all is your stomach. There’s something so relaxing about how warm the area is, your skin practically his personal hand warmer as he slides his hands into your kimono, his palms pressed snugly against your tummy.

They don’t move much; stationary, just simply feeling, the intention not inherently sexual. However, as you bring back small traces of his long-buried humanity, you also bring back traces of his libido, something that’s been noticeably gone throughout the duration of his time as a demon.

And so, as urges to kiss and touch you slowly begin seeping into his mind, Gyutaro slowly becomes fixated on the fact that you’re so fucking soft, the perfect thing for him to squeeze and lick and fuck until you’re crying and begging for more more more –

His sex drive isn’t monumental, but Gyutaro would be blatantly lying if he said he hasn’t fantasized about how soft you’d feel underneath him before, your pretty body on display for his greedy eyes.

He’s seen many humans naked, but the first time he sees you without any clothing on, his hands are immediately reaching out – and, surprisingly, heading directly for your stomach. His breaths come out harsher as he stares down at your exposed belly, the skin even softer somehow than when it touches it under your clothes.

As he starts regularly fucking you, get ready for his hands to always be gravitating towards your stomach, his fingers pressing into the soft fat while you writhe and squirm in his lap as he forces you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling back into his head while he practically drools.

He loses his composure during sex, and it’ll be more than apparent in the way he grasps onto your tummy like it’s his life line, as if you’re the only thing tethering him to Earth while his orgasm crashes over him.

And god, when he’s got you laying in front of him, your pretty legs parted to expose the soft, warm pussy he claims as his, Gyutaro uses your stomach as almost a pillow – he’s watching his fingers appearing and disappearing out of your cunt, your juices smeared across his pale skin as he rests his forehead on the softness of your lower belly.

His eyes are wide and unblinking, his lips parted in awe as he watches the way you just take them, your velvety walls clenching down repeatedly, hard enough to make his mouth water. He’s always leaving small kisses against your stomach after sex, an oddly sweet gesture that makes every bruise he leaves on your body from the rough fucking feeling slightly better.

It’s strange, his fascination, and at first you have the terrible, horrible fear that his obsession stems from wanting to grow his family with a child. It’s a terrifying thought, one you try to put out of your head, but eventually (after he forces you to tell him, his eyes turning dark and threatening as he demands you to tell me, don’t keep any secrets from me, ever) the fear is lost, as Gyutaro regretfully informs you that demons are infertile.

You’re relieved, but the question only seems to further ignite his obsession with your stomach – you’ll catch him speaking to it when you’re asleep, odd little confessions of if only I could… when you wake up.

Essentially, Gyutaro is obsessed with your tummy because it’s soft and squishy and fuck you’re so very pretty. 

His fingers 

Generally speaking, Gyutaro isn’t particularly fond of any specific body part of his own.

He’s proud of his ability to fight and destroy, but especially in the context of physical attractiveness, Gyutaro firmly believes what he’s always been told. He knows he’s unappealing; how could anyone ever like a monster with such a grotesque body and face?

It’s a cycle of self-deprecation that he’s found comfort in for most of his life, but once you appear, suddenly he’s wildly disappointed that he isn’t more handsome. He wishes he had a fuller figure, muscle spanning his chest and back, just like all those slayers he sees.

He wishes he had softer hair, a more symmetrical smile, less facial blemishes, everything.

He hates that he’s limited to human beauty ideals, but he can’t help it – how can he, when you’re around him looking so cute and adorable? You’re not perfect either (though he loves your imperfections perhaps more than anything else), but he wants to be perfect for you.

And so, while Gyutaro silently wallows in his self-misery, he slowly discovers that despite his lack of sexual experience and general understanding of human female anatomy, you seem to really, really like his fingers.

His nails were, initially, something you’d quickly stammered out a w-wait! to when he’d tried to shove a finger inside, and while he hadn’t appreciated your interruption, when you mentioned he could stab you and make you bleed with how sharp they were, he reluctantly digressed.

It’s not hard to bite off the excess sharpness of the nail, grinding them down to a roundness against the flesh of his finger, perfectly safe.

The first time he’d fingered you, Gyutaro was shocked at how impossibly warm, wet and tight you were inside. It was like touching velvet – so soft, your walls sucking him in and seeming to almost invite him inside, as if you wanted him there, like you didn’t want him to leave.

He’s staring transfixed at the way you take them, your pussy squelching as he slowly thrusts them in and out, your little squeals making his cheeks flush a very light pink. He loves the way you gasp when he curls them just so, brushing against the spongey spot he’s memorized as your favorite.

He loves to abuse the area; watching as your eyes squeeze closed, your fingers grasping onto his shoulders, your thighs tensing and clenching, your little cries of his name and yes – yes please ‘Taro, fuck please!

He loves how quickly he can get you falling apart with his fingers, how you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess once he gets you below him. It boosts his confidence, and occasionally between thrusts inside, he’ll pull his fingers out and suck on them, his own little groan slipping out as he savors your taste, all musky and heavy.

And of course, once he discovers your clit, it’s over for you – he’s never leaving the small button alone, the bundle of nerves positively sore by the time he’s done with you. He’s rubbing small circles against it, drawing figure eights, writing the kanji for his name with the tip of his finger, anything he can to get your back arching up, your toes curling and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ he loves so much.

He’s constantly bewildered by just how much pleasure he can deliver you with only his hands, and so as he squeezes and gropes at your ass, breasts, stomach, anything and everything, just know that he’s feeling nearly as good as you are.

After all, those bandages as pants may be loose, but you can still see a very clear outline of just how excited he is – and just how much he’s enjoyed the way you’ve made a mess of his fingers, if the wet stain around said outline is any indicator. He just really, really likes using his fingers on you, so just let him, yeah?

DRIVE:

Gyutaro’s never been that horny. Having been turned into a demon while young, he’s never really experienced the human emotion of lust, his sexual urges having faded out from his teenage years to nearly nothing. He’s too consumed by other emotions – anger, jealousy, pity – to really focus on something so arbitrary, something so human.

And so, as a result of this repressed sexual drive Gyutaro doesn’t immediately begin lusting after you once his obsession with you begins to form. He isn’t desperate to fuck you the moment he realizes he feels some twisted form of love, nor does he want to touch you in any way that’s inherently sexual.

Instead, his urges to be with you and feel your skin are much, much more innocent in nature – of course, he’s still a man-eating monster, but he wants to touch your cheek just because it looks soft.

He wants to run his hands along your sides because you’re so small compared to his looming figure, and he wants to make sure that you’re real.

He wants to know how it feels to have you in his arms, because he’s seen human couples doing that and it’s a show of intimacy and connection between two people, and that’s what he wants to have with you.

As time passes, his urges towards you slowly begin moving towards the area of lusting, however. Soon he’s wanting to kiss you; his lips are always chapped, of course, and he’s sure his breath smells atrocious, but your lips look so soft and warm, like they’d be perfect to press against his own.

He imagines pressing you against his body as you kiss him, your hands resting against his chest as you sigh into his mouth, the human form of affection seeming so intimate and lovely and necessary.

It’s some long lost repressed human part of him driving these desires, but Gyutaro can’t find it in himself to care – especially not after the first time he sees you nude. He’s seen dozens of humans naked before; he lives in the Entertainment District after all, and when he’s devouring someone, he’s not particularly respectful with keeping them covered up.

However, there’s something different about you – maybe it’s because he feels so attached to you, or maybe it’s because he suddenly can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to embrace your naked body with his own, free of any fabric separating the both of you while he indulges in your warmth, softness, the plush skin of your body.

He’s not sure, but regardless, after that moment suddenly all those sexual feelings leftover from his time as a human come rushing back to him – he’s hard without even realizing it, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he simply stares, his expression going dumb.

You’re uncomfortable with it, he can tell by the way you avoid his gaze, but he can’t find it in himself to care – you’re so beautiful, perfect for him in every possible way. And so, after that night, Gyutaro finds himself inching closer and closer towards the final level of intimacy, pushing the boundaries just a bit more each night until he’s eventually got you perched in his lap, his hands placed on your hips.

You’re both naked, your breasts placed tantalizingly close, close enough to be able to reach out and wrap his lips around your nipple, to suck and watch you keen, to maybe even sigh out his name…

He’s rendered mute by your pussy the first time he fucks you, truly too pussydrunk to really even think, as embarrassing as it is. The big, strong Gyutaro falls so easily to your body – one clench and he’s shuddering, every nerve in his body on fire as he tries not to come quite yet – only lasting thirty seconds is wildly embarrassing, and while you’d never poke fun at him for fear of dying, Gyutaro grits his teeth and tries to hold on to his dignity.

And so, sex with you becomes a regular craving for the demon. His urges aren’t too unbearable, and he only ever acts on it a few nights a week, but be prepared because Gyutaro will fuck you, and you will like it – he'll make sure you come, and doesn’t that mean you’re enjoying yourself?

But until he gather up enough courage to actually fuck you, Gyutaro takes baby steps. He can’t do too much all at once – he gets too overwhelmed, too shy and embarrassed because you’re looking at him, your pretty eyes and face and voice giving him attention. It makes his lips go numb, anxiously scratching at his arms and struggling to meet your gaze because god he wants to touch you and hear you moan his name, but how does one go about that, exactly?

Sure, he knows the basics of sex and has watched couples initiate it, but it’s different with you. It’s different because Gyutaro isn’t stupid – he knows you’re afraid of him, that he’s too grotesque and ugly for you to ever really want to be intimate with, and these thoughts make it hard for him to just take what he wants from you.

And so, he starts small – he'll touch you a little more, fingertips pressing hard into your sides when he ghosts his hands there, trying to be gentle but struggling to regulate his strength because you’re so close to him.

He’ll let his fingers brush over your hair, never enough for you to feel but just enough for the texture to become familiar, always bringing his fingers up to his nose and smelling them afterwards, something between a growl and a moan slipping from his lips at the scent.

He’ll reach out and lightly, oh so lightly press his thumb against your cheek, marveling at how soft your skin is and how warm it is, mumbling something under his breath about how you’re too pretty, how it makes him sick that you’re too damn pretty.

His breathing will be a little unsteady when his does this, those yellow eyes of his glancing between your own and your lips, contemplating in a way that he thinks is much more subtle than it actually is.

He wants all sorts of human intimacy with you, and the next thing that he wants to tackle is kissing you. The idea is strange to him - why do humans press their mouths together? It must feel good, but why? He’s curious, but touching you has such an effect on him, so surely tasting you would suck the air right out of his lungs, leaving his knees feeling weak and making pink bloom across his cheeks.

He doesn’t ask you for permission, instead one day coming to sit beside you against the wall of the lair, that familiar concentrated look in his eye. He’ll ask you some question whose answer he doesn’t care about – just to see your lips moving, watching with sharp eyes how your tongue contorts and moves inside your mouth, sometimes flicking out to lick at your lips, the sight almost making him whimper.

Soon, he can’t just watch – he’s rushing forward without any warning, pressing against you with a level of force that makes you yelp. His lips are dry and cracked (despite him having licked them excessively in preparation for this moment, wishing to make them as soft and pleasant as possible), and they’re not moving – he’s staying perfectly still, eyes wide open and staring at you.

It scares you, because while you know what he’s doing, the experience is anything but pleasant. He stays like that for a few moments, before slowly, very slowly moving, his lips clumsy and unsure as they work at you. It feels like he’s trying to eat you – his tongue and teeth stay firmly inside his mouth, but his lips keep trying to fit more and more of you into his mouth at once, saliva smearing across bits of your cheek and chin.

You’re still completely frozen, unsure of what to do, and Gyutaro pulls back, scowling. It had felt good – in a strange way, a way that made something in his stomach feel tight and warm, but he’s sure it would feel much better if you were participating too, if you’d actually kiss him back. Don’t just sit there, he’ll warble to you, not willing to actually ask you to kiss him back, his pride barring him from practically begging for what he wants.

(Though as your sexual relationship progresses, this pride slowly withers away and dies – to the point where he’ll get on his knees and beg for you to open your pretty mouth and suck him off, because even though he could force you easily, it always feels better when you consent, when you at pretend to actually want him.)

This time, as he leans in, your lips move too, trying to match his awkward kisses. Gyutaro groans at that, leaning further against you, the weight causing you to fall backwards, lying flat on your back. You’d pulled away from the kiss during the fall, and as Gyutaro stares down at you hungrily, he swallows, sucking through his teeth harshly and trying to get every drop of your saliva down his throat. You must really, really want him, huh?

The sight simultaneously flusters and flatters him, and before you can say a word he’s scrambling over you, pressing his lips against yours harshly, with vigor, his tongue slipping out and practically forcing its way down your throat. You just taste so fucking good – it's addictive, and the knowledge that you’d laid down for him, wanting him to hover over you and mimic sex making his head swim. He’s breathing hard through his nose, almost wheezing, and you quickly shut your eyes, not wanting to look at his still wide-open ones.

He kisses you for a long, long time – easily thirty minutes, not tiring of the feeling, his tongue still actively rubbing against yours, tracing every tooth and managing to dip into every crevice in your mouth, each new area making him groan and get just a hair more desperate.

When he eventually pulls away, he licks your lips and smiles shakily, a hand coming down to pet at your hair. Next time, will you take you shirt off? It probably grosses you out, huh, that request?

And when you nod with wide eyes, too scared to say no, Gyutaro will exhale slowly, nodding and muttering a series of slurred good’s and your name under his breath, before stalking off out of the lair. Once out of your sight he’s stopping, a hand coming up to scratch at the area right over his heart, his face morphing into something between despair and prevenance.

You’re just so damn pretty – he can’t handle the sight of you, and the image of you laid out before him, looking up at him with those eyes makes every muscle in his body tense, that familiar warm feeling in his groin growing tighter and tighter, and as a hand snakes down to palm at the now very noticeable and wet bulge in his pants, Gyutaro decides that he needs to speed this process up.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can take holding himself back – not if touching you and tasting you and making you gasp feel this good.

(Later that night, as he hovers over your sleeping form and tugs near painfully on his cock, Gyutaro decides that the next step can happen right then and there – you’d look so good with his cum smeared all across your face, wouldn’t you?)

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise

While Gyutaro has a difficult time believing your compliments initially, with time he grows much more willing (and desperate) to indulge in your sweet words.

Your kind praises of his caring actions – no matter how forced the words are – have him melting inside, his heart pounding in his chest while he struggles to hold your gaze. He reverts to a bit of a teenage boy in moments where you compliment him – and during sex?

Well, Gyutaro nearly passes out the first time you compliment his body. It takes so much courage for him to show you himself nude, if only because he’s so scared of the way you’ll react. What if you think he’s ugly, or weird, or repulsive? What if you wince at the sight of him, or cower when he tries to touch you or make you touch him?

He’s so scared, so when you run your hands along his arms and tell him he’s handsome, he’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s simultaneously hateful and in love with the vulnerability you make him feel, so please, please compliment him during sex.

He needs the validation that you like him, that he’s making you feel good, and while he’ll never actually say it aloud, your words turn him on more than you know. Just hearing his name roll off your tongue has his eyes rolling backwards, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you, to feel your soft skin. He loves when you tell him sweet things about his body; tell him he’s attractive, that you love how strong he is, that you love how muscular his arms are.

Tell him his eyes are pretty, that you love tunneling your fingers through his hair while he fucks you with his tongue, that you love the way his fingers stretch you out and get you seeing stars.

Compliment the things that he does in bed; tell him that you love how he growls and bites at your neck with those sharp teeth of his, that you love when he manhandles you and grunts into your ear as he rolls his hips into yours.

And of course, tell him how he makes you feel – he’ll groan your name and his hips will stutter if you say his cock feels so – so good Gyutaro, mm please! Need more, need more of you –

Tell him that he feels so good inside of you, that he’s going to make you come because it’s all too much, and you’ll see him physically freeze up, his eyes wide and a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth because god, are you talking about him?

Moan his name and make a show of writhing around underneath him, arching your back and gasping out that he’s so big! T’s too much Gyu, gonna make me come!

Tell him anything and everything that comes to your mind, the more depraved the better. He likes to hear you become reduced to incoherent whimpers because of him, and with each praise that slips past your lips, Gyutaro feels his confidence slowly rise until he’s fucking into you with reckless abandon.

He’ll be bearing his teeth and whispering the filthiest things into your ear, the confidence boosting his system like nothing else. He’s calling you his, possessive petnames right and left as he practically abuses your cunt with his cock, pounding into you with such fervor that it’s almost like he’s trying to mold your pussy into the shape of his cock.

He’s demanding you tell him how he feels; growls of tell me what you want me to do to you filling the space between you, the panting breaths and moans rushing into the empty air. He’s telling you to take it, f-fuck, so damn tight, do I make you this tight, huh?

He wants you to mindlessly agree, to clutch onto his body and squeeze around him, milking him for absolutely everything he can give to you until you’re spasming around his cock, coming all over him and whimpering underneath him, your pretty eyes staring up at him with tears beading in your lashes from the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving to you.

And if you were to worship any part of his body?

He’s not sure what you’re doing at first – why are you sinking to your knees and moving so slowly in front of him? You’re taking your time with his cock, letting your eyes gaze over every single inch of him, the attention making his neck flush and embarrassing him. And yet, he doesn’t stop you – because when you whisper out that he’s so pretty, I love your cock Gyutaro, he nearly malfunctions, his nails digging into his palms as his hips involuntarily jerk, his cock bobbing slightly with the motion.

He wants you to kiss every inch of him, to suckle on his tip and let your tongue dip into his hypersensitive slit, the sensation making him gasp sharply and his eyes close tightly.

He wants you to gently fondle his balls, to whisper against his skin in between licks against his shaft that you wanna taste you, can I please taste you Gyu? Wanna make you come, you look so pretty when you do…

He’ll let you do anything you damn well please when you’ve got him like this – his eyes are watching your every move, his breath hitched, his heart fluttering in his chest as his orgasm comes much too soon, the emotional weight of your words and adoring actions making him desperate to give you the cum you claim you need.

He just really, really likes when you give him positive attention in the bedroom, so please narrate everything you’re feeling. He wants to know every possible detail, and he’ll strive to keep touching and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name and a jumbled, slurred series of yes and please and I love you. 

Breast Fixation

Gyutaro, to put it lightly, develops a sort of fascination with your chest. He has no sexual experience with women, and consequently has neither felt nor seen a living, naked woman’s breasts before.

Of course, he’s been curious; victims he’s in the middle of devouring who’s clothing has slipped down in the process of his meal, where their tits are hanging out of the fabric, looking soft and supple and perfect to touch. He’ll reach out and halfheartedly squeeze, but the dead flesh isn’t the same as a living, breathing woman’s – besides, his hunger is too strong for him to really process how soft, pliable, and squishy it is.

And so, once he has you, someone to fantasize about and imagine naked (frequently), Gyutaro is suddenly very interested in seeing what you look like shirtless. He’s always paid close attention to the way your chest looks in your kimonos; the fabric tightening through there, as if your breasts were practically begging to be freed, exposed to the world and awaiting eyes like his.

He’s always noticed the way your top exposes the line of your cleavage when you bend down to pick something up, your tits pressed together by your arms while he gets a front row seat that leaves his pants feeling tight and his throat dry.

Before he steals you away, frequent nights are spent with the image of you straddling his lap playing through his mind. He’ll imagine the way you’d shimmy out of your top, exposing your breasts to his greedy eyes, the soft flesh sitting only a few tantalizing inches away from his face.

He’d focus in on your nipples, imagining the way they’d slowly pebble from the cold air, growing tight and taut while he’s left to drool, his fingers begging to reach out and pinch, twist, and pull. He’ll imagine the way you’d look down at him with a soft smile, cupping his cheeks and asking in that soft, breathy whisper of yours if he’d touch them please Gyutaro, I want you to play with me…

He wouldn’t need to be told twice, his hands immediately reaching up to cautiously grope and squeeze.

He’s nervous at first, his touches hesitant, but as he wraps a hand around your left breast and squeezes lightly, the sigh you make in response has him gulping and squeezing harder, his other hand following suit until he’s massaging and groping at your tits like they’re his personal stress balls.

He’s painfully hard below you, his cock desperate for stimulation, but as you push his head closer to your breasts he nearly loses his mind; he’s quick to envelope a nipple into his mouth, closing his eyes while he sucks and licks at the bud as you hum and praise him, little whispers of mmm, just like that baby going straight to his cock.

He twitches with every little keen you make, and this fantasy carries over into his sex life with you. Very, very early on you’ll notice that he’s always staring at your tits whenever you’re intimate with him.

When he’s bathing you, he’s staring and gulping, not doing well to hide the way he’s very clearly ogling.

When you’re changing, he’s quickly glancing away after you catch him stealing looks at you, his cheeks pink as he holds his hands over the tent slowly forming in his pants.

And once you start fucking?

Well, you’ve noticed his fascination, and you’ll capitalize on it. Grab his cock and trace your nipples with the tip, and just watch the way he shivers, his eyes unable to look away while he whispers a gravelly fuck under his voice.

Play with your tits as you wait for him to undress, pouting up at him and begging him to hurry up, to come fuck you please, you’re too horny to wait.

Push your breasts together and ask him to fuck them, telling him it’ll feel so good, and how you want him to leave his cum all over the soft skin.

Purposefully bounce more than you actually need when he fucks you while you’re on your back, so that the fat jiggles even more and watch the way his eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he fucks into you with new fervor.

Grope and squeeze at them as he hovers over you in missionary, and you’ll feel the way his thrusts grow faster, harder, more desperate, his eyes trained on the way you work at the soft, supple flesh.

The root of his love for your breasts really comes from just how soft they are; he’s not used to anything as welcoming or comforting as your chest, and when you let him rest his head there, fall asleep behind you with a hand cupping one, letting him idly suckle at a nipple as you card your fingers through his hair, how can Gyutaro not grow to love them?

And love them he will – the copious amounts of love marks, bruises and hickeys littering the sensitive skin will make his obsession more than obvious, as will the way he essentially creams his pants the first time his fingers brush against them.

The large stain against the fabric and the slack-jawed, red-faced expression he gives you will have you more than aware that just a simple flash of your tits will leave Gyutaro puddy in your hands, willing to do anything for you.

Hand Holding

It’s not really a kink, but as your sexual relationship with Gyutaro progresses, you’ll find that more often than not he manages to snake his hand into yours. When he’s fucking you in missionary, hips smacking against you fast and hard, he’s holding your hands above your head, gritting his teeth and whining in your ear because you’re too – too fucking tight, shit, ‘m gonna come, you want that? You want my cum in you?

He’ll start off with his hand wrapped around your wrist, but as the sex continues and he gets closer to his orgasm, he’ll switch to interlacing his fingers with yours, pressing your hand hard against the mattress, the tendons in his hands and forearms flexing as his abs and balls clench up, warm cum flooding your cunt and leaving him gasping your name.

When he’s got you bent over, pretty ass on display as he stuffs you full with his cock, he’ll lean over you, a large hand covering one of yours, dwarfing yours and overwhelming you even more, his body literally covering every inch of yours.

Even when perched on top of him, grinding against him and biting your lip because it feel so very good, he’ll alternate between cupping the globes of your ass and catching your hand, clutching it in his hand as he tries to keep his grounding and not come too quickly.

Frankly, it’s almost unconscious – he doesn’t actively realize it’s happening until you point it out to him, in which case he’ll grow defensive, telling you that you’re wrong and mistaken, embarrassed to admit that he naturally does something so human, so weak and gentle.

But really, it’s just another way to extend the intimacy with you – you’re so pretty and sweet and so very lovely, and though he’s kidnapped you and forced you into some twisted form of a relationship with him, there’s something about the moments where he’s inside of you that leaves him feeling fuzzy, warm, wanted. And perhaps it’s the centuries of neglect and self-hatred that lead him to desperately chase that feeling of security and acceptance, or perhaps it’s just natural instinct left over from his human days.

Regardless, Gyutaro will almost exclusively only ever orgasm if your hand is somehow touching his – he needs that intimacy to let himself finish, emptying himself inside of you while clutching onto you, keeping you there and steady and still, stopping you from squirming away or escaping when he’s trying to give you his cum, gifting you with the most intimate, personal thing he could. And when he’s coming, he’s squeezing at your hand, hard.

The pleasure is just so overwhelming, and he needs something to grasp onto, something to keep him grounded and keep him from rutting into you and humping you into overstimulation, his cries and warbled moans sounding pitiful. He doesn’t mean to crush your hand, but sometimes he’ll hold so tightly that you wind up with big finger-shaped bruises across your palms and the back of your hands, the sight making Gyutaro ashamed because he hadn’t meant to hurt you, but also pleased because now he’s marked you.

There’ll be a constant reminder of him every time you look down at your hands, every time you do basic tasks or touch things. It's a thought that makes him weirdly smug, and so while Gyutaro will often try to deny your accusations of him always holding your hand during sex, but he knows it’s true.

(But really, you should be grateful it’s just your hand – at least it’s not your throat, where he’s much likelier to lose control.)

But even outside of when he orgasms, Gyutaro really, really likes to hold your hands. His favorite time to consciously do it is when he’s got you perched in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder while you lean back against his chest.

He’ll want you fully nude so that he’s free to explore and roam your body with his hands, occasionally pinching at your stomach or groping at your breast. He wants you sat on his cock, the hard length nestled inside of you while you both simply bask in each other’s presence, him turning to bury his nose against your neck and deeply inhaling, his cock twitching inside of you.

Gyutaro grows a penchant for cockwarming with you as time goes by, because while he doesn’t always want to fuck you (though it’s not too terribly difficult to persuade him – just say please and he’s putty in your hands, so frantic to get his cock out that he’s ripping at the bandages of his pants) there’s something about the intimacy of being inside you but just cuddling you or holding you that satisfies his clinginess.

Plus, this way he can indulge in the feeling of your cunt in a non-sexual way – you’re just so warm and inviting, taking his breath away every time without fail, the sensation so lovely and foreign to him that he wants to spend every possible moment inside of you, even if he’s not fucking you stupid. And the whole time he's lodged inside you like this, his fingers are wrapped around yours, marveling at the size different and tracing the lines and patterns on your hand.

They’re just so much softer and better than his – so innocent and not capable of so much death and destruction as his. You’re just so cute, in a way that makes him crazy, and he’d be stupid to not take advantage of having someone like you to touch and taste and share his best.

And Gyutaro is many things, but stupid is not one of them.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Cock Worship

Although Gyutaro isn’t an inherently selfish lover, he can’t deny that having you fawn over him gets him hot under the collar, his pants growing uncomfortably tight and his mouth feeling dry. There’s just something about the idea of you worshipping him that gets him equal parts mortified and horribly aroused.

To have all of your attention on him in a non-sexual context steals his breath away, making him struggle to seem interesting and cool and attractive, even if he knows he isn’t. And so, in a sexual context this is only amplified – he wants you to like him, to find his body and him generally attractive, and to have you blatantly doing that during sex would make his head spin, embarrassment eating him alive even as he enjoys every second of it.

And to have you worship any part of his body is wonderful, but to have you worship between his legs?

Well, his cock’s not especially pretty, and he knows it – it’s long, long enough that it’s right on the border between hurting and pleasurable when he sinks inside all the way to the hilt. It’s sensitive, always leaking precum so it’s sticky and wet and glistening, with a set of heavy, swollen balls sprinkled with black hairs hung right below.

It’s intimidating and will leave you a bit nervous of how he’ll possibly fit inside of you, but Gyutaro’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he sees and feels your fingers wrap around him, pumping and flicking your wrist at the tip, the sensation of you jerking him off making his hips buck up into the air.

Having you give him long, slow, lazy pumps of your fist while you list off all the reasons you love his cock in between sloppy, wet kisses would have Gyutaro coming in mere minutes, the attention and praise going directly between his legs.

When you’re on your knees in front of him, make him shudder and flush by gripping him, making a show of licking from the base to the tip, suckling on the swollen, red tip and flicking your tongue against his slit, dipping in slightly and feeling the way he throbs in your mouth.

Move down to fondle and suck at his balls – if you’re able to fit a whole one in your mouth, you’ll hear a strangled s-stop, stop stop stop ‘m gonna come too fast, the pleasure literally too much for him to handle.

Give him the erotic sight of you tracing the outline of your lips with his tip, smearing precum all over them so that they’re glistening with a clear, off-white sheen. Rub the outside of your cheek against his length while you stare up at him, licking your lips and smiling, and you’ll literally see his face turning red, his sharp teeth biting at his lip and drawing blood because fuck, you’re so sexy and provocative and having you say that you love his cock is making his heart flutter.

And when he’s inside you, thrusting in and out and making you clench and tighten up, purposefully flex the muscles, making everything tighter and more intense, telling him that he deserves the tightest you can offer, and feel the way he immediately busts inside of you, the groan that forces its way past his lips sounding pained and desperate and pathetic.

 Which brings us to another major facet of his enjoyment of cock worship – please worship his cum. It’s a bit runny and thin, shooting out of him in long spurts, always wickedly warm and getting absolutely everywhere. Let him come inside you – whine out a  please give it to me Gyutaro, need you to come for me, please please want your cum!

He’s stuffing you full every time he fucks you, those yellow eyes of his eagerly watching it ooze out of you after he’s pulled out. When you’re sucking and licking at him, let him push your head as far down as you can go, sending rope after rope down your throat, his nails digging into your scalp as he gives a few sad last spurts, only a drop or so managing to hit your tongue.

Let him pull out of your mouth and give himself a few good tugs, cum splattering all over your face while he groans your name and a slurred take it. Lick it off your lips and look up at him with cum all over your cheeks and chin, and you’ll see the way he snarls and throws you onto the makeshift bed he shares with you, immediately ripping your thighs apart and diving into you like a man starved, the wet noises of his tongue diving between your folds absolutely depraved.  

You’re just so, so very wonderful when you’re worshipping him, so please do – one the bright side, it’s the absolute fastest way to get him to come, just as long as you sound like you really mean it.

Spitting

This kink is one that takes both you and Gyutaro by surprise. It happens very suddenly, and it takes a moment for both of you to process exactly what’s happened, Gyutaro’s spit sitting against your tongue and tasting like him.

It’s a manifestation of his possessiveness over you – you’re his. His little human, his lovely woman, his pretty cunt to touch and fuck and bury himself inside of for hours on end. And so, when he’s got you folded into a mating press, strong arms keeping your thighs pinned to your chest with absolutely no wiggle room, your face all screwed up in pleasure and your occasional gasps of his name, how can Gyutaro not want to mark you as his?

You’ll find that he often uses those possessive nicknames for you in the bedroom too, always going on and on about how you’re his girl, his cunt, his love.

And really, spitting in your mouth and on you is just a natural progression of this sentiment. He starts off with spitting onto your breasts – a glob of saliva landing on a sensitive nipple, making everything slick as he pinches and toys with the area, hearing you keen above him.

Then it’ll transition to him spitting onto your collarbone, rubbing the wetness over the bone, leaning down to suck dark hickeys against your skin, getting the area even more sticky with his saliva.

He’ll move on to spitting directly onto your cunt after that, spreading your pretty folds and letting the spit land right over your quivering hole, loving the way you jerk slightly at the weird sensation. It makes it easier when he fingers you, just that extra layer of wetness making his fingers glide in and out of you, pulling moans and whines from your lips.

He’ll spit at your asshole when he’s got you bent over, thumb rubbing against the hole and only slightly dipping in, enjoying the way you yelp and get all tense.

It’s only after he’s grown comfortable with spitting all over your body that he finally ends up seeing your open mouth under him as he fucks you with fast, harsh thrusts, hovering above you and staring down at you without blinking. He’ll spit directly onto your tongue, staring with panting breaths, before telling you in that familiar strained voice to swallow, his eyes watching the way your throat bobs as you do what he says.

It’s hot, really – the kind of thing that makes his cock twitch and bob, the idea that you have his saliva inside of you making something in his gut sit pleasantly.

And if you were to spit in his mouth, Gyutaro would actually fucking whimper. He wants you to be possessive over him, to want him all to yourself, to think of him as yours – and if you were to be riding him, hips clapping against his as you milk him for everything he’s worth, Gyutaro would gladly open his mouth wide, waiting with baited breath and shut eyes to feel your warm spit against his tongue. He’ll swallow for you, even opening his mouth again in case you’re feeling generous and want to give him more.

He just thinks it’s hot, and he’d be more than willing to bring spitting into your non-sexual lives too – it’s just so intimate and meaningful, don’t you agree?

BIGGEST FANTASY:

As a general rule, Gyutaro is a massive fan of touching you.

There’s quite literally nothing about your body or yourself that could ever turn him off; he thinks every inch of you is exquisite, no matter what your personal qualms may be. And because he thinks of you as something so wonderful and sweet and his, he finds everything that your body does equally as arousing as your pretty face.

 And so, while he’s never given it much thought, the moment he smells blood in the air around you, he’s immediately fighting off both his appetite and the intense fear coursing through him because why the fuck are you bleeding?

He’s not sure what’s going on initially, until he follows the blood source and finds it to be between your trembling legs. You’re scared, understandably, at why he’s so suddenly yanking your legs apart, eyes boring right into your crotch, but when he starts ripping at the cloth covering you, there’s not much you can do.

And so, once you explain what’s going on after his frantic why are you bleeding is asked in a panicked voice, suddenly Gyutaro is stiffening up, his thoughts running wild. He’d always been just slightly curious – you smell so sweet, and while there’s no part of him that desires to eat you, there’s something about the way your blood smells, the way you smell…

He quickly learns that having sex with you while you’re on your period is his absolute favorite. You’re so sensitive and pliable, your face screwing up at even the slightest presses of his fingers against your clit, your pussy always wet with blood, easy to slip his fingers in and out of.

He loves it, and the way your smell grows even more pronounced during this time has his head spinning, and fuck the taste –

He thinks he’s lost his mind the first time his lips touch your pussy with a smear of your blood across it, the sweet and metallic taste making his hips involuntarily jerk, his orgasm dangerously close already.

He’s always, always willing to pleasure you while you’re menstruating, to the point where he’s actively offering once he smells that familiar tinge of metal in the air, practically begging you with those half lidded eyes to let me make you feel good, yeah? I’ll be gentle, or at least I’ll try.

He’s careful with his motions at first, though it doesn’t last long – his fingers press into your thighs, nails dangerously close to piercing the skin, while his tongue laps at your cunt like a man starved.

Besides, aren’t orgasms healthy for women, especially during this time of the month? He’s heard so from the other Oirans (in hushed, embarrassed whispers), and what kind of a lover would he be if he didn’t attempt to take care of your every need? 

You winced, the cramps in your lower stomach making shifting your sitting position difficult. Your period had arrived very suddenly – it was just starting, and a quick swipe of your fingers below your panties had you sighing in frustration. The dank light of the lair was bright enough to show the red stain of your fingers as you retracted your hand, and with a dejected sloop of your shoulders you leaned back against the dirt wall. Eyes closed, you let your arms wrap around your stomach, resigned to the knowledge that you’ll bleed out through your clothes and onto the dirt ground below before you’d ever ask Gyutaro for sanitary supplies. 

Not that he’d say no – although, maybe that scared you more. 

Daki scrunched up her nose as she registered the smell, sending you a look. “What’s that stench?”

You bit your lip, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry, it should be over in…” 

Unsure of how much Daki knew of menstruation, you left the question unanswered, instead wincing as another cramp rolled through. She grunted, her brow twitching as she crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”

You glanced at her, begging with your eyes for her to leave it alone, and despite her scowl, she merely sighed and pivoted on her heel, jumping up to race out of the lair and into the night air far above. You sighed as well, closing your eyes and relaxing as much as you could. 

Your relaxation was cut short, however, as a loud bang and a voice wailed out, “Why is there blood? What’s going on?”

Gyutaro had arrived, and as you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him rushing forward, grabbing a knee in each hand and spreading your legs with a surprising amount of force. 

“From here…” He muttered, head leaning down as his gaze focused on your clothed pussy, the kimono and underwear you’d been dressed in earlier that day already seeped through with blood. The red stained the fabric, sending Gyutaro into a further state of panic. 

Nails dug into his neck and chest as he stared wildly at you, leaning deeply into your personal space as he growled, “What happened?”

You shrank back, stuttering out, “I – I’m menstruating.”

Gyutaro blinked, his breath heavy with the panic still running through him. “What?”

“I’m menstruating. I’m okay, I’m – I’m not injured.” Your voice was weak, but Gyutaro didn’t seem to notice. 

“What is menstruation?” He asked, the scratching sound of his fingers against his neck still prominent in your ears. “Well?”

“It’s um, a sign that I’m fertile…” You whispered, fear squeezing at your heart. 

Gyutaro stared at you for a moment, before glancing down between your legs. “Are you in pain? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, hoping he’d believe the lie. 

A moment passed, before he visibly gulped. He slowly lied down on his stomach, his hands frozen for a second before suddenly ripping at your clothing. The area surrounding your pussy was ripped off, exposing yourself to the cold air as you gasped and shivered. The sudden motions were over before you can blink, Gyutaro’s eyes trained on your bloodstained folds. 

He looked like a child in a candy store; dilated pupils, his breathing heavy, lips parted enough to allow drool to pool at the edges. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to not flinch when he was this close to you, especially as you saw his razor sharp teeth. 

You yelped when a finger reached out to very lightly brush over your pussy, his skin just barely grazing your own. You bit your lip. 

He repeated his ministration, adding a bit more pressure. A moan slipped past your lips as his finger passed over your clit, and immediately you clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide as his gaze snaped back up to you. His face was bright red, you realized, the blush heavy over his cheeks as licked at his lips. With his gaze still locked on yours, he pressed back on that same spot, your clit oversensitive and making you lowly groan, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he began rubbing up and down the area. 

“G-gyutaro…” You whined out, tucking your lower lip under your teeth as you lightly squirmed. He watched with rapt attention. You seemed to be enjoying yourself – do you like being touched while you’re ‘menstruating’? As long as you weren’t injured with all this blood – this blood, that was such an intoxicating, delicious scent, the best thing he’s ever smelled. 

With a small, wobbly smile up at you, Gyutaro suddenly dove in, lips pressing against your folds as you gasped and jerked your hips, sending him in even deeper so that his nose brushed against your clit. You gasped his name, encouraging him to dart his tongue out, your blood immediately registered on his taste buds. His eyes blew wide, his hips jerking forward against the ground, the sudden wave of arousal because of your scent making his knees feel weak. He moaned around your skin, his tongue eagerly licking and getting to work against your sensitive skin. 

Groans and whimpers vibrated against you, his sounds rivaling your own as you moaned and reached a hand down to run through his hair. Gyutaro’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling, and when you tugged a bit at the roots, the growl that left his lips had your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Gyu-“ You started, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensitivity of his tongue on you. It was too much – the pleasure too acute, but as a hand left the plush of your thighs and instead snaked down to press against your clit, you gasped. 

A strangled moan slipped past your lips as Gyutaro worked his finger in circles against your bundle of nerves, his tongue still licking and slurping against your folds. The combination of the stimulation had your head spinning, the sensation nearly too much, and as you whined out his name and dug your fingers even more harshly against his scalp, Gyutaro couldn’t help but moan in response. 

You tasted so fucking good – the best blood he’s ever feasted on. Sweet, yet savory, a taste entirely your own. His cock was achingly hard in his pants, pressing against the bandaged cloth as he ground his hips against the dirt floor of the lair, the pressure not nearly enough to relieve the terrible ache. He wanted more more more – more of you, more of your perfect little pussy, more of the sounds slipping past your lips, more of the taste of your blood. 

Soon you were shaking, thighs trembling as your orgasm crashed through you, your head throwing back as you cried out, slick and blood mixed together on Gyutaro’s tongue, chin and fingers. His thumb never stopped its motions, continuing the bliss as you slowly came down from your high, your clit nearly rubbed raw as the overstimulation began hitting you. 

Squirming, you tried to push his head away from your cunt, but Gyutaro’s growl had you stopping quickly. 

Pulling back slightly (only enough to speak), Gyutaro warned in a low voice out of breath, “Don’t move, stay still or I’ll make you come so much you cry.”

You only gulped and nodded, the feeling of his nails pressing into your thigh making you shiver, your hips jerking at the overwhelming sensation of Gyutaro’s ministrations. 

“Tastes so good, so so so good –“ Gyutaro moaned, the sound muffled against your skin as he gulped and sucked at your pussy, nearly making out with your delicate folds. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut tightly – it was too much. 

But for Gyutaro, it’d never be enough; after all, how could he let such a delicacy between your legs be taken for granted? Especially when you looked so pretty all panting and bloody once he’d fucked you with his tongue, fingers and cock more times than you could count.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

We Agree to Your Terms (part 23)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

TW: descriptions of violence

They talked about Danny's conditions for helping, he had an idea what they were going to be already. But he wanted and needed Jason behind him every step of the way here so Danny talked out as much of his thought process as he could.

As they talked they watched videos as they came out, livestreams and news clips talking about the destruction being caused by the new, unidentified threat. The videos were grainy and corrupted, as most videos of ghosts were, but most of them were clear enough to see what was happening, especially the ones that were taken from a bit of a distance. Those ones were less likely to come to an abrupt bloody end.  

They watched as heroes arrived on scene, and along with them the drone that Danny had infused with ecto so they hacked into its stream instead. Danny was amused to see that it was occasionally ignoring directions, apparently it had developed a little bit of a mind of its own but it was still doing its job.  

The heroes quickly realize most of their attacks had no effect at all on Pariah Dark. The only ones who seemed like they could touch him were Raven, John Constantine, and of course, Phantasm. But all they could do was slow him down and try to buy a little more time for the other heroes to evacuate as many civilians as they could. Danny tensed every time Ellie had a close call, but he couldn’t rush off to save her. Not yet.

The destruction was hard for him to watch, people were dying, and not just a few. The skeleton army and Pariah himself were ruthless and entirely without remorse. Danny saw more than one truly impressive spray of blood, limp bodies falling to the ground and after the first couple he watched with dissociative disinterest. More lives were ruined then just those who were ended, homes were being destroyed, one town was already all but levelled and those who had been evacuated in time would have little to nothing to go back to, it was a major humanitarian disaster in progress. 

They watched an interview as one of the GIW agents arrived on scene, at first they were barely able to disguise their glee as they explained that this was a ghost. Ghosts were dangerous and unfeeling blah blah blah, all their usual talking points. But not to worry! The GIW had the weapons and knowhow to deal with this threat! 

This was what they had wanted the entire time after all, a ghostly rampage to prove their worth to the world. Or at least this was what they thought they wanted, if only it weren’t a matter of minutes before it was completely obvious they were outgunned and untested. All they were good for was meat shields to get the civilians out, and at least Danny could find some joy in that. Watching those all too familiar white suits get ripped up and stained red with blood soothed deep, angry aches imprinted on Danny’s core. He couldn’t help but laugh at their futile fight, some got a few lucky shots off, but at best they took out a handful of skeletons, and Pariah could always summon more of those.

 Then the GIW weren’t even good as meat shields. They had barely bought a few minutes of time for the evacuation efforts before half of them broke and ran! Booking it as soon as it was obvious this was a real threat, and not something they could deal with with their stolen and half baked weapons. The selfish cowardly little cringelings! 

Danny snarled and curled his fingers into claws, barely resisting digging them into Jason’s arms as he held Danny close and made soothing noises. He had never felt so much disdain for another creature as these wannabe heroes who weren’t actually interested in anything besides their own glorification. 

“It won’t be much longer,” Jason soothed Danny, “They’re running out of ideas I’m sure, they’ll call soon. I’ve already declined three calls from Batman.” They had decided not to answer Bruce, he’d probably want them to do the ‘right thing’ with no guarantee of any change and that wasn’t something they were interested in. Danny was waiting to hear from Diana, or maybe one of the leaders themselves.

It was Diana who called, which made sense since Deadman probably didn't have a phone. Jason picked up her call after the first ring which was sure would annoy the hell out of Bruce knowing that his calls were being purposefully screened. 

“Hello, thank you for answering, Red Hood. I wouldn’t have blamed you and your Lover for leaving this world to its fate,” She said with bitter rage. “But I believe these ninnyhammers are ready to see sense. Will you come back and give them a second chance?” She asked patiently. Danny wondered if Themyscira would be alright even if the rest of the world fell, most Gods had to be some sort of neverborn and they protected the island of the Amazons right? Maybe Wonder Woman’s people would be okay.

“We’ll come, but we’re no longer willing to compromise,” Jason growled into the fun.

“Understood,” Diana said in a clipped tone and Jason hung up.

“Are you ready Danny,” Jason asked softly as he pocketed his phone again. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Danny sighed. “Let's just get this over with before anyone else gets hurt.” He straightened and dipped down to re-enter the meeting hall, through the ceiling this time. Danny’s makeshift throne was still there so Danny went straight back to it and sunk down into it, Jason standing at his shoulder again. He couldn’t really help with this other than supporting Danny, and being proud of him for taking charge like this. It was a far cry from how subservient he had been early on. 

Danny had grown so much, and so had Jason. When he was newly back in Gotham so full of rage and so much to prove he wouldn’t have been able to stand behind anyone in silent support. Hell he probably would have shot this place up for talking to Danny the way they had before he’d been in therapy. This was a bitter thing, having to stand in front of this meeting, but it felt like a culmination of their growth. 

“So, you called me back,” Danny said as he leaned back in his icey throne, making it look far more comfortable than it truly must be. 

“You have to do something about this,” Someone demanded, Danny didn’t bother to seek out who it was since he didn’t recognize the voice. 

“Do I?” Danny laughed. “Because I thought you just finished saying it was your job to protect your people.”

“But this is a ghost, this is one of yours!”

“Technically, No he’s not,” Danny grimaced. “That’s the previous king so he currently outranks me. Besides I could defeat him, but he’s not a threat to my people right now. So no, I will not help. I will, however, accept your surrender.” 

“What?” Agent W yelped, why she was still present Danny had no idea. 

“You heard me. He will keep going, he's obsessed with expanding the ranks of the dead he rules. He's attacked the earth before, and I'm sure you remember who it was who defeated him then,” Danny said, turning his gaze to agent W.

“Well it was a couple of our correspondents, the Dr's. Fenton. They-” She blustered.

Danny made an incorrect buzzer noise. “Wrong, some of their tech was used but who was wielding that tech?” He demanded, staring her down. “You're under oath, don't even think about lying.” 

She didn’t answer, but the lemon bitten expression on her face was answer enough really.

“That's right! Last time he broke through I saved the world from him, and my thanks was being captured and tortured. I don't plan to make that mistake again. This time if you want my help you will agree to my terms before I take care of the problem.” 

“And what are your terms?” Diana asked, despite everything she sounded patient and calm, bless her. 

Danny nodded to her gratefully and braced himself before he started talking. He needed to sound confident and reasonable, he didn’t want to sound angry but he also couldn’t leave any doubt he was serious. He did not want to waste any time debating. 

“One; I want the anti-ecto acts repealed and ghosts added to the meta protection acts. Two; I want any active portals to be handed over to the combined control of the Justice League, myself, and my court. Three; I want to be the one called if there are any future issues with ghosts so they can be dealt with through our justice system. Four; I want diplomatic immunity for me and my betrothed. Finally; I want all high ranking members of the GIW handed over to my court so I can be sure they see appropriate consequences for their actions.” 

“You can’t expect us to hand over our-” The American representative started.

“I don’t care what you’re about to say,” Danny interrupted, holding up his hand to stop them. “And I’m not interested in negotiating. If you’re not ready to agree to my terms I’ll wait. But you better not make me wait too long, because casualties are stacking up and before I agree to help I’ll need a signed surrender, and agreement to my terms.”

“Esteemed leaders, there is one more thing that we can try,” Agent W spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention to her. At least she had the good sense to look nervous, but it seemed like the GIW wasn’t ready to give up, annoyingly enough.

“What is it?” Batman was the one to ask, this time he wasn’t even trying to hide his suspicion. 

“We have another weapon, developed by Fentons and further refined by us. We didn’t want it to come to that because it’s a more destructive weapon, hard to wield, and expensive to produce. But we have developed an ecto-missile that-”

“No!” Danny interrupted glaring at her. “You built that missile to try and destroy the ghost zone itself. It’s not safe to-”

“It’s an ectoplasmic weapon it’s not dangerous to-”

“Ectoplasm is clearly still dangerous to humans! Otherwise ghosts wouldn’t be the threat you clearly think they are. Besides to increase the destructive energy and fallout I Know you tried to add nuclear energy. If you fire that thing you will cause more harm to civilians then to the enemy you’re trying to destroy! I don’t know how big you made that thing, but given that you wanted it to destroy an entire dimension, how much of North America are you willing to sacrifice in the hopes it might take out Pariah Dark?”

“What other options are you giving them!?” She snapped at Danny, but he could see the desperation on her face. She knew if they did agree she would be handed over to his justice so he could hardly blame her for grasping at straws.

“To agree to my terms. As soon as the documents are signed I will go fight him. I have a good track record of keeping civilian casualties to an absolute minimum once I’m involved. How many people from the GIW will you have to hand over? A couple dozen? To save thousands of civilian lives, rather than sacrificing hundreds of civilian lives to maybe stop the threat. I think I’m offering a very good deal,” Danny said. He was trying not to sound desperate, but he didn’t want to see any more people hurt then necessary and he was scared they were about to make a terrible mistake.

“You expect us to surrender-”

“He’s not even asking for the reparations he would almost certainly be due!” Wonder Woman snapped, her tone generally startling Danny with how furious she sounded. “His terms are downright kind. You should agree to them.” 

“I have sent the requirements to a friend of mine who is drawing up the contact,” Batman growled. “When you come to your senses the surrender will be ready to print and sign.” 

Danny felt a little tension bleed out of his shoulders at the tacet agreement from Batman. He had been worried that he wouldn’t, and he had been worried that if the leaders or their lawyers wrote the document they would put in some sort of trick or trap that he wouldn’t be educated enough to catch. He didn’t think that Batman would pull something like that. He might have been smart enough to do something like that, but he was fair and he didn’t like those sort of sneaky tricks. Not with them, not if he wanted any of his kids to keep talking to him anyway.

“Good, should we leave again so all of you can consider?” Red hood asked, standing straight with his hands loose at his sides. “I don’t want to see you have to watch you weigh these people’s lives against your pride,” He spat contemptuously.

Danny nodded and pressed his palms against the arms of his throne, ready to push himself up. He didn’t want to see that either, he could feel the mounting death toll churning in his gut with every passing minute spent here deliberating. He hoped he would be a better leader than these people at least, more decisive and willing to make the hard choices even when it scared him.

“There’s no need for that,” Someone spoke up and when Danny looked up their mouth was set into a firm line. “The decision is obvious isn’t it? We would have to be mad to prefer wanton destruction over a reasonable compromise to gain a new ally. That is what it means that we’d call you for future ghost problems, correct?” 

“Yes that is what I meant,” Danny said, settling back in his seat. “I don’t think there will be many issues, especially once we have joint control of existing portals, but if there are, call me as soon as you can. I will make sure they are dealt with quickly and with minimal damage," he assured.

Not everyone looked happy about the solution, but Danny didn’t care. If they dragged their feet signing the paper damages would be on their heads, not Danny’s. A staff member came running in with a piece of paper and Batman got up to meet them, it was two pages but it looked like the second was basically just lines for signatures. 

“Do you want to have a look at it first?” He asked Danny, in a surprisingly gentle voice walking over and offering him the paper. 

Jason was the one who leaned forward and took it before Danny could. Batman seemed a bit surprised but relinquished it to Jason with a barely perceptible nod and stood by, waiting to take it back when they were done. Red Hood glanced over it and then handed it to Danny, who gave him a small smile and a nod before taking his time to read the document. Yes they were in a rush but it was only one page and he wanted to make doubly sure it covered everything he needed it to cover. And it did, it had Danny’s list of terms of surrender reworded into formal language and asserted that by signing the document they were agreeing to the Ghost King’s terms.

He handed it back to Batman with a nod of approval. Batman nodded back and went back to his seat, handing it to Diana who read the terms of surrender aloud to the room. She signed it without hesitation once she finished reading it, and passed it to the leader next to her. It was at that point that Agent W started to have a meltdown, a sight that really amused Danny as she started screaming they couldn’t do this, they couldn’t hand her over to those monsters. She was quickly escorted out of the room and he just hoped that she was going to be held in custody or she might make a break for it. It was going to take a bit to round up all the members of the GIW he wanted he was sure, oh well, he could be patient. 

Around the room it went, some hesitated to sign more than others, but no one completely refused to sign it. As time went on and new death tolls came in and got higher and higher those who hesitated too long were booed down quickly. The urgency was starting to set in as it finally processed that this was really happening. This wasn’t exactly the begging Danny had hoped for, but given how stupidly proud a lot of human’s were, this was good enough.

Finally all of the leaders had agreed to the terms. An attendant was sent out of the room at a run to copy the document so that Danny could have a copy and so could the Justice League. Danny couldn’t help starting to fidget at that point, he was itching to Go! Both to end the suffering of the people in the path of destruction and to finally end this once and for all. The threat of Pariah Dark and his eventual crowning had been hanging over his head for years, it was time to face his demons and beat the shit out of them. 

As soon as he got the paper and had glanced it over he stood and handed the signed surrender off to Jason. “Great! I’ll be going to deal with Pariah now, the rest of you can make yourself useful and start rounding up the GIW.”

“We will,” Diana assured, looking determined and angry. 

“Great,” Danny said and grabbed Jason before flying out of the building through the ceiling again and back towards the US as quickly as he could without damaging Jason. 

“You had better not be planning to drop me off somewhere away from the fight,” Jason shouted over the sound of the wind. “I’m coming with you, both my brother and your little sister are there! I want to try and make sure Robin and Nightwing don’t get hurt.” 

Well, at least he wasn’t talking about trying to protect Danny. “I won’t,” Danny agreed with a resigned sigh. “I have a feeling that trying to leave you somewhere would just piss you off and you’d find a way to get in trouble anyway.”

“You’re damn right I would,” Jason promised, and Danny both hated him and loved him for how damn smug he sounded.

Once they were close enough for a running drop off far enough away that Pariah wouldn’t spot them and try to shoot them out of the sky. An experience which could barely inconvenience Danny and completely destroy Jason. Once Jason was safely on the ground Danny was face to face with Pariah Dark in seconds. 

“Aha! The little king finally shows himself,” Pariah sneered mockingly. “I assume this means you’re ready to be destroyed.”

Danny expected to be scared, to feel impending doom and anger. But he looked at this specter of his childhood and he felt… nothing. After everything that he had been through, Pariah didn’t scare him anymore, and he certainly didn’t hate him like Danny did the GIW. He was just an irritation, a barrier to the life that he wanted. 

“Shut up and let’s get this over with,” Danny snarled and sent a blast of energy toward Pariah that he barely managed to dodge by flying up to meet Danny in mid air. 

Danny was ready for him.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

OMG!!! <3 I’m in love with all your content. It’s so hard finding yandere Shadowpeach, especially in a ploy relationship with oc/reader!!! I enjoy the dark themes this can bring to the table!!! I’m curious however, to hear your nsfw (smut) headcanons regarding the monkeys in a yandere romantic relationship and then how that changes with oc/reader? ;3 (Only if you’re comfortable, as I read somewhere that you are planning on featuring smut in some of the fanfics).

I have a few NSFW's that I am currently trying to work on. They are harder than I thought but I shall give you these headcannons of mine. (For this I'll use my cursed warlords AU because I might decide to change it up per au who knows)

Now onto it!

Shadowpeach Headcannons (NSFW)

I imagine that before the two got together, there was a lot of chemistry.

Wukong would get drunk once in a while (like blackout drunk). During this, he'd definitely be flirty with Macaque. Macaque, who never drank more than he could handle.

So Macaque would barely hold himself back as Wukong teased him in every way possible. The want to pounce was always there, he would want and pine to jump onto his King and fuck him senseless.

What made it harder was Wukongs hands raking across his body, teasing and taunting him. The number of times he nearly slid his hands into his warriors' pants counted into the hundreds before they got together. The only reason they never got further was because Macaque put a stop to it rather quickly.

After they get together?

Macaque is all on Wukong, weather drunk or not. He has months of teasing to repay (teasing that Wukong doesn't recall)

He'll suck Wukong off, enjoying the peachy flavor (why not?)

He'll bind him in shadows to keep him still when he's on top.

He also likes it when he makes Wukong beg, it's one of his favorite parts of sex. It only happens when he's bound up in shadows as that's the only time that Wukong can't really move to help himself.

He'll be more than willing to fuck him any way he or his mate wants. Nothing is off the table.

Both him and Wukong would be constantly fighting for dominace when they are in bed. They both like to be on top.

Like Macaque, Wukong likes to be on top as said before.

Even before the two got together Wukong would be extremely flirty while he was drunk.

He would never say it put loud but he was addicted to Macaque's scent.

He of course never understood why he was but he was.

He would never admit it out loud but he likes it when Macaque ties him up.

Wukong will tease and often. He'll slid his tail up Macaque's leg or even wrap it around his tail. He does not care who is in attendance because he’s a warlord (and even before that) he just doesn’t care about other’s opinions. (Except when they think badly of him. You all know his temper)

He will do anything to be on top, well unless he gets bound up. He can’t resist that feeling.

Now keep in mind this man never had sexual encounters with anyone before Macaque (Why? Because I said so)

Though neither of them liked the idea of a threesome, at least not until they met Reader.

Once Reader gets involved

Of course when Reader came along a few things change.

Once these two both figure out they love her (and get over their little bickerment) they are all for a threesome. (Only with Reader though)

The two still have their own rough exchanges because they know they can each handle it.

They want to be gentle with Reader because she is human. And they don’t want to hurt her.

Will leave bitemarks and possibly small bruises (which they will tend to if they do, they're not used to controlling their strength for humans)

They both love the idea of breeding you in every way possible.

They prefer to cum inside of you which means they’ll probably take turns.

Now I do want to clarify that I have a dub-con warning in my masterpost that is for nights such as drunk sex. Yeah mostly drunk sex and threats for kisses.

The threats for kisses is because they crave your affection. They will make ‘playful’ threats to get kisses and cuddles.

They’ll burn a house down if you don’t give them a kiss on the cheek. This is mostly from Wukong of course.

If Reader is drunk and initiates the act they have a hard time resisting. Depending on how drunk you are depends on the outcome.

Tipsy? They will definitely have sex with you.

Drunk? If you look like you are in control they would do it. If you’re not stumbling or slurring words or swaying.

Now if you are almost blackout drunk or even starting to slur your words. Nope, they are not doing it. (Unless if they are also drunk)

Instead they will take you to bed to rest and sleep. In the morning they will definitely be flirtatious though, hoping that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. They’d shoot their shot, even if they get shot down.

If Reader says no to them they will stop. For your safety and your comfort. Or if you simply don’t want to, these two aren’t going to force you at all.

Afterwards weather your drunk, tired or still have energy they are cleaning you up. Flower Fruit Mountain has many hot springs and they have their personal one that they don’t even let other monkey demons get in.

You might be tired or sore who knows. But you are set into the water so you will be soaking for a while as they make sure that you are nice and clean.

As soon as you are clean they’ll let you relax in the water before taking you to bed. Since these two have probably exhausted you.

Is this everything? No. But just some head cannons that came to my mind.

Hands trailed down your body both from the front and the back. Wukong was pressed to your back and Macaque to your front as they nipped and left small bites across your collarbone. You held in a whine as you bit your lips. Wukong’s hands were the first to slide past your waist and gently gripped your thighs. Too much, too much.

“S-STOP!” All at once both of the Monkey Kings froze.

“Are you alright?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“N-No… I just don’t want to.” You were holding back tears. You weren’t ready for anything like this, you didn’t want to. Everything was happening so fast. But as soon as you said to stop, both of them listened.

“Oh honey, it’s alright. Hey, hey don’t cry,” Macaque lifted his hands to your face wiping away a few terrified tears.

“It’s alright, we don’t have to continue. How about we cuddle instead, you were okay with that yesterday,” Wukong added as he took his hands away, walking around you to help clean up your face a bit.

“No matter what, you can always tell us no for anything like this,” Macaque added as he gave you a few kisses on the cheek.

You sniffled as they sat down on their large nest full of the fluffiest blankets and pillows the two monkey kings could find. These two, no matter how much they craved for you still gave you this mercy. They wouldn’t force themselves onto you, even if they wouldn’t let you leave. You were trapped on the mountain with them, but they still loved you in a way that they would never make you do something like that against your will.

“Yeah. We can cuddle and talk. Talk about anything you want. We’re right here,” Wukong added with a chuckle, as he kissed your cheek again.

Did I stress enough how this would go? I think so. They love you and knowing your from another world would make them so some desperate measures. But those desperate measures have limits! Consent is highly important, so I wanted to stress that in this post. Since it’s the first one like it that I’ve got.

I’ma be honest with ya’ll I have had this post in my inbox and drafts for a while. I just haven’t finished it. But now it’s done. So I do hope for your feedback. I like these headcannon style posts. Have other questions send them my way. I may be slow, life may get in the way, or I might procrastinate. But- I don’t delete asks unless they actually make me uncomfortable so it’s mostly free game. Even if I am slow 😅

[adventuringblind]

Drive with you Forever

Chapter Nine: Find me at your doorstep

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: summer break is interrupted, Guenther is exasperated, Seb is a father to four kids who can't communicate, and the reader reveals an interesting piece of information

Warnings: kidnapping, medical abuse, physical abuse, drugging, lack of communication, throwing up, sickness, blood, mild gore, Jos Verstappen and his great parenting skills, mentions of SH

Notes: Listen, Y'all, this is probably one of my favorites so far. It's definitely not as comical as others, but it's dramatic and has some action.

Previous &lt;-

Masterlist

She probably shouldn't have been alone. She got comfortable in the safety of their apartment. Her newfound willingness to not let her father get to her.

She shouldn't have left that day as she walked down the streets of Monaco. Pascale had invited her over for lunch, and although she could have driven, she wanted the fresh air.

It was stupid to leave the house, she thinks, as her body refuses to work. Her useless visions apparently don't show what happens to her directly, just what happens around her.

Now she's in a strangers car, her phone broken, and the energy that had doubled since her dad stuck her with the needle not working.

Her healing had gotten better, and she'd discovered how to make new things out of old things. Her visions are clearer and more consistent, and the telekinetic abilities made her feel more like a Jedi from Star Wars every day.

Again, it's all useless now.

~

"Has anyone heard from y/n?" Shouts Charles from the living room where he had been lazily lounging on the couch.

"No. Why?" Max pops his head out of the kitchen. It's grown on Charles to see the Dutch being domestic. He's protective of his kitchen and Charles being the number one threat is not allowed anywhere near it when he's cooking.

"She was supposed to be at my mom's house by now, and apparently, she's not there."

"She did walk there, so maybe she just took the scenic route?"

"But an hour late feels like a lot for that." The anxiety in Charles’ voice is evident.

"Let's not worry about it for now. She knows how to take care of herself."

~

Nobody had heard from her that night. Or the next morning.

The boys couldn't sleep. On the phone with anyone who might know where she is.

Nothing. It's like she disappeared off the planet.

"Do you think it's her dad?" Pipes Lando. The Brit had been pacing a hole in the floor, and both Charles and Max had made him slow down to breathe properly multiple times.

None of them wanted to consider the possibility, but it could be a likely option.

"god I hope not."

~

Her room hadn't changed. The small window is still letting in a cold draft at night. The only thing telling her how long she'd been here.

Five days. Five horribly long days.

The ties around her wrists ached. Her body hurt from being repeatedly drugged and tossed around like a sack of potatoes.

There were more people here now. More then she remembers there ever being at least. She knew there were people, men, who would come in and out but she was never allowed to speak with them.

For what it’s worth, whatever they were doing to her was making her stronger. She’d been able to transfer the wounds from one person onto herself. It’s keeping her captor at ease for now but she knows he wants more.

It’s not ideal and it’s painful. It’s like she can’t get past a mental block that will allow to simply heal. She can feel it somewhere deep within. She knows she can.

Bringing someone back from the dead however, that’s not healing.

Maybe if she’s able to bring back the corpse of her mother, they’ll trade places. Her soul finally giving into the peace of permanent unconsciousness. At least then her boys wouldn’t have to worry. They could move on without her. Find solace in each other.

Maybe, she thinks.

~

Sebastian is going to lose his mind. His daughter is missing and it feels like the only thing the journalists are writing about is how she probably ran off to be a slut for a different group of guys. He was going to have the heads of whoever wrote that if he ever sees them.

The boys had been staying in Germany with him. It hadn’t taken long for the authorities to determine she’s not in Monaco. They’d come here in hopes of reevaluating. Though they were at each others throats when they got here.

Seb had practically forced them to sit down and communicate. They started working together after that.

Hanna had been forcing them to eat proper meals. Seb made sure at least one of them slept at a time. Lando had recovered from four separate panic attacks over two days. Max is trying to look strong but his puffy red eyes give him away. Then there’s Charles; the monegasque had been blaming himself for not walking with her when he could’ve.

Seb had a feeling they were going to find her. She’s a fighter. The when part is much harder to figure out.

And for all their sakes, he hopes it’s soon.

~

Two weeks.

Two weeks of this nonsense.

She wonders if everyone is racing again. Or at lease getting ready too. This was not how she intended on spending her break.

She was getting closer to giving her father what he wanted. She was pulling herself to the edge of no return every time she worked in that rotting corpse of her mother.

Tonight, though, may be her only chance at escape.

They’d forgotten to drug her before leaving her in her room. The alcohol in their systems already taking effect.

She’d been able to slide off her restraints with ease. Her abilities strength coming in handy at the current moment.

Now she quietly is pulling out her window frame. It have never been sealed but she can’t help but feel satisfied when the screen pops out with a satisfying click.

She could care less how far the drop is. She’s two stories up with grass beneath her. She push herself out the window, her body facing the wall and hand gripping the ledge.

She swings herself outward and hits the ground with a soft thud.

Then she runs.

~

She had a destination in mind. Someone at the gas station she stopped at was nice enough to let her use their gps to see how far away she was under the guise of hers being stolen. Technically, she didn’t lie.

The walk to the Haas headquarters was six hours. But she didn’t stop until she got there.

Now she can’t help but lean herself against the front door, hoping someone notices her.

~

Guenther whistles a tune to himself as he arrives at work for the day. The sun is out and the birds are chirping. The definition of a great morning to him.

The familiar female figure slumped on the ground in front of the front door completely changes his tune. He quick to get her inside and find some fresh Haas shirts lying around for her to change into.

Once she’s awake and refreshed he sits her down in his office.

“Are you going to tell me why you spent the night outside the front door?” He sounds like a stern parent. She curls into herself. It’s reminiscent of how she was when he first got her when she was fifteen. Scared, shaking, and so quiet.

He’d known she went missing a little over two weeks ago. It was the reason the summer break had been extended. The FIA had been trying to get more security measures set in place.

“I need to call Seb, please.”

~

The boys were there the next day.

Guenther had taken her to his house despite her adamant refusal. The girl had been to tired to fight and eventually gave in.

It’s not long before she padding softly down to the dining room, halting in her tracks when she sees everyone. She doesn’t say anything. She can’t say anything. The boys don’t either. They don’t know how to approach her.

He led the four males inside and sat them down at his dining room table. “She’s sleeping right now.” Questions come flying at him from the three younger men. Seb shoots them all a look that says shut up and let him explain. “I’ll warn you that she’s a bit of a mess. Her father did a number this time around.”

after an hour of sitting, the anxious boys see the female peek her head around he corner. none of them know what to do. They don’t want to scare her away after what she’s been through.

Seb goes to her first. He approaches her slowly taking her in his arms. Then everything in her snaps. It’s just like when she had night terrors and was finally able to wake up from it. This time however, it had been real.

~

She spends the night in bed with Max. The house they're staying in lacks a bed big enough for all of them.

They had played a game of rock paper scissors, which Max won. He claimed his spot next to her with his signature winning grin.

Charles and Lando decided not to take a different bedroom and are curled up at the floor at the foot of the bed instead. Their soft snores confirm that they are, in fact, asleep.

Max holds her close. Every second with her precious. She'd been crying since they arrived. No matter what they did, she seemed to have a never ending supply of tears.

He'd been the first to assess the damage done to her body.

Diagnosis: terrible. He had half a mind to get Guenther to show him where the hell her father is staying so he can personally drag him to hell.

The cuts and incisions along her torso and chest are still red and puffy. The bruises that littered her skin are awful shades of blue, black, and yellow. Her eyes are dull with dark circles beneath. Her body seemed just as fragile as the day he first met her.

He felt himself slipping back into memories from years ago. Gentle touches so he didn't scare her, slow movements because she flinched away from anyone who moved fast.

Quiet until someone tried to say something mean to him or Seb.

Now she lays on his chest. Tears still fall onto his lightly colored t-shirt. And he finds himself wishing he'd have found her years before he met her, if only to tell her he'll be there for her. No matter what anyone says, he'll always find her.

~

Seb watches carefully as she picks at her piece of toast. According to Guenther, she hadn't been able to keep much down since he found her.

She protested eating anything, but Seb is a good negotiator. He promised that when she could keep food down that they would go home to Germany. Not back to Monaco yet because people are aching to get pictures of her.

"At this rate, I'll be old and wrinkly by the time you finish."

She shoots him scowl. "Aren't you retiring? Dosen't that mean you're already old?"

"Old is a state of mind."

She takes another bite. The taste could be that of a brick, but she's so hungry it would still taste delicious.

"I can't stop thinking about the car that got me."

"What do you mean?" Seb asks gently. She hadn't talked much about the whole ordeal yet. Little bits of information here and there but nothing to help him get a picture of what went on.

"The man driving the car. I knew him."

"But he wasn't your father? Or the man at your door?"

"No, he was older than my father and larger than the man at the door." She rubs her tembles in a struggle to remember.

"No need to think about it now. They're not going to get you again. Mostly because I think your boys might start a war if they do."

Their soft conversation is interrupted by Max speaking to his phone in angry Dutch. A clear sign of Jos being on the other end.

"je doet raar." (You're being ridiculous)

Her head perks up at the phrase. A familiar one Max uses with Charles when he is oblivious.

Max hangs of the phone in a huff amd site down with them at the table.

"Can you say that again?" She looks at Max. Her request odd to him, but he obliges. "je doet raar."

"He was on the phone speaking Dutch. He used that phrase." Her head gets a shooting pain, and lights dance through her eyes as she finds herself receiving the car ride.

This time watching scenes unfold in that past. This is new. Both with her and in the context of the situation.

She's in the passenger seat, and next to her is none other than Jos Verstappen.

~

Charles has never seen Max so angry. Which is saying something because Max is angry a lot.

The scene him and Lando walked into had been nothing short of catastrophic.

A female body tucked into Seb on the couch, the German attempting to get the attention of a specific Dutch. Max obviously is not listening and is letting the most foul things he's even heard him say about his father ring through all their ears.

It's interesting in a sense. The other three had never hesitated to show their distaste towards Jos, and Seb had managed to call him a poor excuse of a father to his face on more than one occasion.

There had been a time that Max had a tire malfunction and ended his race in the wall. Jos had gotten more aggressive then any of them would have liked and he is very lucky that nobody aside from Seb had been around to see it.

Seb has a sway with words. He knows how to make them stick. So when he saw Jos' hand land on Max's cheek, he didn't hesitate to step in.

The German gently tucked Max out of the way and faced the older Dutch with fire in his eyes.

"Didn't know a tire failure was deserving of a slap."

"This is between me and my son."

"As far as I'm aware, he's dating my daughter, which makes him mine also. Touch him again, and I'll take legal action."

It was one of the only times Seb had to hold Max comfortingly in his chest. Reassuring the boy that he did not deserve any of that even as Max explained why he did.

Lando is the fastest to act. His arms encircled around Max's body. He can visibly see him relax into the Brits hold.

"Jos was the one who took me originally." The female explains. Her knees tucked up to her chest, and her head rests on sebs shoulder. Charles makes note of how she looks more exhausted now the the last time he saw her.

The words didn't register with him. Not entirely anyway. It didn't make sense. How is it even possible that Jos is in kahoots with the devil?

It would seem they are both devils that somehow raised angels. Charles will only thank them for that, and only after he's killed them.

It's terrible really, the way they look at him. She is teary eyed and apologizing while Max looks clueless. And for the first time since Charles started dating him, Max is pleading with his eyes for help. The Dutch is clueless on where to go from here.

"Knowing that, Max, if you want to leave your dad out of this, we can." Mentions Seb. He knows that the way Jos brought up Max left him confused. His dad praised him and rewarded him one second, then hit him the next. It made thinking fuzzy for him, and since his father was never all bad, he told everyone that it was a good thing. He was attached to him regardless of the circumstances.

This was different.

"If he's going to kidnap my lovers, then he needs to be put away."

"That makes this easier. Know that my home is your home as it always has been, in case things get ugly."

Max nods his head at the German. Really, Seb had been his father figure since he was seventeen. Jos didn't have much say in his life anymore

~

After a third attempt at eating toast, she was finally able to keep it down. It was forced, and she had gagged multiple times, but it was still in her stomach after an hour.

They left soon after that, thanking Guenther profusely for , once again, rescuing her at her worst.

The perks of dating a world champion is that he now owns a private jet. They got home sooner than she expected because of it.

Hanna greeted them at the door and gently latched herself to her daughter. The relief coming in the for of salty tears.

She likes being at home in Germany. Seb had made sure to keep her old room clean. He even got a bigger bed once he heard Lando joined them.

The room feels comfortable and familiar. She's even able to fall asleep when she sits on top of the soft covers.

That is how the boys found her. Snoring softly, draped over the bed with her shoes still on. They carefully slip her shoes of and reposition her where she'll be more comfortable.

Then, they leave the room and shut the door behind them. Their conversation nothing but whisper right outside the door.

"Will she be able to drive next week?"

"I hope so. Maybe Charles will have a chance if she can't, though." The Dutch snickers. Charles hits his shoulder playfully. "I'm not sure how to move forward now. It seems like anything we do only prolongs the inevitable."

"We take it on day at a time then."

~

She managed to get herself to the race track. Driving may not be an option yet, but at least she was there. Christian wasn't going to let her drive until he got her physical report back.

Really it was Max telling him the truth about how she still can't keep down a full meal and is now dropping weight because of it.

She did eat some crackers and was fine. She's proud of herself for that one.

Despite Sergio driving the second redbull, she was happy to be back. The paddock felt similar to home in some ways.

The only new thing is that she's never alone. When free practice 1 comes around, Max dutifully places her on the pitwall next to Christian. She dosen't move until somone comes to get Her.

She feels mildly like a nuisance to them since they have to pay extra attention to her now.

She's stays in their hotel room the rest of the weekend until right before the race. Everyone in the garage is shocked to see her walk in alone.

All her boys end up on the podium, and it's the first time she's celebrated since she came back.

~

Three quarters through the season, and she's still not driving. Still training in more ways than one, but not driving.

She doesn't feel like she can. Her body is still physically decimated. She's able to keep down more then just toast now, but that's on a good day.

Her powers are at the strongest they've ever been. She's managed to learn more about self-defense in case someone tries to nab her again. But with that comes sticky note threats in Jos Verstappens' handwriting.

It's starting to look desperate.

Despite the state of her uncooperative body, she still went to every race. Attempting to be as supportive as possible from the sidelines.

It didn't feel as painful as when she felt as though she lost her spot the first time. This time, she still had purpose. She is doing her best to learn how to keep her family safe. That's all she could ask of herself.

All of them were glad she wasn't pushing to get back in the car. They all know about her aptitude for pain. Christian is amazed by how she's coping and fully supports her decision. Seb seems to be cheering her on in the pits even though he's the one driving.

She doesn't even bat an eye when Jos makes a vaugly threatening statement towards her. Because if she wanted, she'd have his head through the wall in a second.

She doesn’t let herself get comfortable this time. The nagging feeling that something worse is coming a constant in the back of her mind.

~

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak

@chanshintien

[freedomfireflies]

more stiles blurbs??? last one was hot

A tense silence settles over the hallway as you look at the massacre and bloodshed, the ruby marks splattered across the wall, across your dress, and across Stiles’ face. 

His chest is heaving, his cheeks are flushed, and his stained hands are balled into fists by his side. He’s done what he came to do. He’s managed the threat. He’s executed the entire council.

He looks at the damage he’s done as he regains control of his breathing pattern and once he manages to ground himself, he looks up and meets your eye.

You gaze at the face of the man you’ve grown to love these past few months. The face of a man who gave up sanity and freedom and his entire life just to be with you. The man who chose to crawl back into the labyrinth of the nogitsune just to keep you.

You step over the lifeless body at your feet, your heels clicking across the marble floor as you make your way for him. He watches you, still a bit lost in his own mind, but with each step you take, he becomes increasingly more aware of himself. Of you. Of why he’s here.

You take his face in your hands, thumb swiping a stray drop of blood from his lip. “How do you feel?” you whisper. You’re desperate to taste just a fraction of the ecstasy you’re sure is coursing through his veins. All that pain, all that agony, all that strife…you need it. More than you need air in your lungs.

His eyes flick between yours as he finds his voice. “So fucking good.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His hands find your hips, tugging you into his body as your chest meets his. “Better than the last time.”

Your lashes flutter at the rough cadence of his voice. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs as he nudges his nose against yours. “S’fucking good, Angel. Promise you’ll like it.”

“I know,” you tell him within an instant, ready to find out. “I know, I can feel it.”

“Yeah?” His breathing is becoming sporadic, as is your own, both of you beginning to claw at the fancy outfits you’ve chosen for the evening in a desperate attempt to take. “This what you wanted?”

He pushes you back until you meet the wall, and you gasp at the contact as he begins to fist your dress in his large hand. 

This is what you wanted. It’s all you’ve wanted ever since he took you to the woods and introduced you to the Nemeton. Introduced you to the power. To Void. To the possibilities.

You’ve never seen a man more glorious. Never seen someone so comfortable in this type of light. This type of revenge. 

The Stiles you met back at the academy was quiet. Frustrated. Kept to himself and didn’t talk much about his past.

Spencer Reid had introduced you. Said Stiles needed a friend. A reminder that the future was louder than the past. 

You befriended the quiet, tortured boy. Figured out why he hid in the shadows. What he was trying to hide from.

He didn’t just let you in that night. He let the darkness in as well.

“We should…we should go,” you pant as he trails his open-mouthed and desperate kisses along your jaw. “They’ll be here soon, and you know Hotch won’t let this go—”

“Don’t fucking care,” he whispers, fingers slipping up the inside of your thighs as he kicks your feet apart. “Don’t care, Angel. Know you don’t, either.”

Your eyes roll back as he cups the back of your neck just to bite on your bottom lip. As he takes. “I care about keeping you safe—”

“M’safe right fucking here. Right here, with you.”

You whine when you feel him press the heel of his hand to your clit, rolling his wrist just to watch you squirm. “Stiles—”

“What?”

You gasp for air. “We have to go—”

“Not yet. Not until I get what I came for.”

“Stiles—”

“What?” he whispers, nose against your cheek as he slips his fingers inside. As he curls and beckons you toward what you want. What you both want. “You know the deal. Know it’s all for you—”

“Fuck.” Your head falls back against the wall with a thump. You’re not even sure how you’re still standing or why he’s so set on doing this now, but you suppose he’s right. A deal was made that day in the woods. A deal you can’t exactly opt out of and wouldn’t want to if you could. 

“If you wanna go so bad…” he murmurs as he drags his teeth along the outer shell of your ear. “…then I guess you better give me what I want.”

He wants to ruin you. See tears streaming down your face as you beg him for the power he wields. For the euphoria that comes from the dark kitsune spirit. For the touch that bends you, the touch that breaks you, the touch that belongs to nobody else but him.

The lifeless bodies on the floor, the blood painted across the walls, the strife he’s caused here…that’s only the tip of the iceberg. It’s only a fraction of what he feeds off of. 

What he truly needs to survive…is you.

You know this. You’ve always known this. And you adore it, truthfully. Adore the way your body, your pleasure, your pain is his destiny. Is the reason he exists. The way he spends each moment tortured by the thought of consuming you. 

It’s what drives him.

Like now. With all this chaos in the air (and on the floor), he can’t leave, he can’t move on until he gets what he really came for.

You.

And you’re not cruel. You’re not unfair. You’ll give him exactly what he wants, and you’ll do it gleefully.

He growls in the back of his throat when he feels you clench around his fingers. When he feels your nails scratch down his white shirt that’s stained crimson. When he feels you finally let yourself go.

And each kiss, each bite, each thrust is made for you. To own you, to have you, to ravish you. 

Stiles Stilinski is many things.

Focused has always been one of them.

You can hear the sirens in the distance. The fleet of vehicles as they surround the building and screech to a stop. The sounds of stomping boots and the cocking of guns as they yell their orders and positions.

They’ve come to take him away.

And while Spencer has always done a rather good job of giving you both a head start, you don’t imagine Stiles’ old boss will be pleased to see him at the center of this unjust crime.

So, just before they can swing the doors to the hotel lobby open, you give him what he wants. You gasp his name and fall into his arms as he carries you through the moment. As he whispers, “S’a good fucking girl,” over and over until you wilt into his chest in an attempt to catch your breath. 

And he seethes your name under his breath, the power you’ve just given him unlike any other. The rush of control and dominance almost enough to knock him off his feet. 

But you’re both out of time. You can hear the sound of Hotch’s voice as he leads his men toward the hallway you both currently reside in. 

And as Stiles leans back, ready to flee, you catch his eye. His smug smile rather victorious and so fucking pleased as he takes your hand and yanks you away from the wall.

You manage to slip through the emergency exit in seconds before you race down the steps, away from the mess you helped create and toward your getaway car.

Tonight, he got lucky. You both did. Perhaps next time, you won’t be able to say the same. 

But then again...you suppose you’ll just have to wait to find out.

I’m in a Stiles mood, sorry 😭

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

[adiluv-moved]

❥ MERCENARY + HOMEMAKER SPOUSE HCS. ˚⊹꒷

☁️୧・꒰word count꒱ 1158.

🌼୧・꒰warnings꒱ takes place pre-manor.

🦆୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! these were originally supposed to be combined into one post, though i decided to split them since they ended up full length regardless, lol. i had a lot of fun writing this, i think it's a super adorable scenario! hope you enjoy! ꒰˵•̀⤙•́˵꒱૭

you can find eli's version here!

꒰🗡️꒱・Naib isn’t exactly accustomed to how peaceful life is with you, having gone through most of his entire life without any opportunity to relax. First, it was the war, which—for obvious reasons—proved to be a rather heavy strain on the man, both physically and emotionally. Even after he’d decided he’d had enough of the bloodshed and defected, living within Britain certainly wasn’t cheap, and he was still unable to seize the chance to step back—though he now had his job as a mercenary to blame for that one.

꒰🗡️꒱・I’d imagine that Naib would prefer to live in a more rural part of Britain, perhaps in a cottage not too far away from the city. Not only does he benefit by encouraging your aesthetic preferences ꒰which is for the best, considering he’s got no taste for design, himself꒱, but he also manages to keep you safe. Two birds with one stone, really. Of course, while living outside of the city does make his line of work slightly more tedious, he’s more than willing to deal with commuting than to move you anywhere closer to such prying eyes.

꒰🗡️꒱・That is to say—he kills, and he gets his assignment done. It’s simply business, as cruel as the reality is. But who’s to say that those close to the victim won’t try to seek ‘reimbursement’ of their own? He’s seen the way that people act when they’re desperate, and he’s seen just how far down they’ll stoop to achieve their goals. For this reason, he’s incredibly protective over you and the life that you share. The thought of anything happening to you is one that he actively despises, and he’s always on the lookout to make sure that nobody’s following him back home.

꒰🗡️꒱・You’re in no real danger while Naib is around, at the very least. He’s got years of experience killing and protecting under his belt, so it’s safe to say that most attackers prove to be of little to no threat to him. Sure, there are occasions where he’ll receive a couple of scratches every here and there, though those tend to be the only signs that anything had even occurred. You’ll patch them up upon noticing them, gently scolding him for attempting to hide his injuries, yet he’s always really preferred to be discreet about such occurrences. In his mind, there’s no need to worry you over a pest that’s already been dealt with… But he is thankful for your concern.

꒰🗡️꒱・As an extension of this, he’s very much insistent on accompanying you whenever you head out—a habit you’d only receive explanation for well into your relationship. Finding out that your partner is a mercenary certainly is quite the shocker, especially when it re-contextualizes the instances in which he’d depart whilst citing ‘work’. Even still, I’d say that Naib was even more shocked when you’d decided to stay with him—under the assumption that there would be no more major secrets kept between the both of you. Regardless, he still couldn’t help but be confused when he’d awoken the next morning to see that you were still sleeping soundly to him. He’d truly expected to lose you. 

꒰🗡️꒱・Although he sends some of his paycheck back to Nepal, you’d be genuinely surprised by the amount that he has left back. Whether it be just by his lack of desire to splurge or simply due to how lucrative his… career choice is, the man is rich—far more than you’d ever guessed. You’ll never be without anything that you need, considering that Naib is perfectly content to allow you to decorate the house and buy anything that catches your fancy.

꒰🗡️꒱・He’s got enough in savings to comfortably retire from his duties as a mercenary, something that he’ll do if you express discomfort with the job. It takes him some time to fully realize that that chapter of his life has finally come to its conclusion—and he’ll be eternally grateful if you attempt to help him ease the transition. Practicing for job interviews and reminding him of what excuses to use should anybody question the sizable gap in his resume does eventually help him snag a new job of his own—free from all the bloodshed of his past!

꒰🗡️꒱・One of his greatest struggles in re-adjusting to an average job would easily be working alongside other people. It’s something that he hadn’t really done since he was in the army, and even then—thinking about his old comrades had the tendency to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. His general introversion does nothing to help him, either, with him preferring to keep entirely to himself or a select handful of trusted individuals. There’s also the added factor of his coworkers just… pissing him off for no reason, as well. He just can’t seem to understand why they’re so incompetent—surely, such simple tasks can’t be all that difficult?

꒰🗡️꒱・Considering his background, you’ll have to admit that it’s quite interesting to see him getting so heavily worked up over something that’s so mundane, though you’re aware that his lack of options wasn’t any fault of his. You do listen to all of his ranting and raving, something that you’d initially recommended to him as therapeutic, though he’d only come to understand why until that first gossip session. He’d ended up getting really into it, and… I don’t think he can go back, honestly.

꒰🗡️꒱・Naib tends to get progressively cuddlier as time goes on, but I’d also say that his desire to cuddle with you is also rather dependent on his mood. It’s relatively safe to say that he’d prefer to be the big spoon—the just something satisfying to him about having your curled up, and safe within his arms—though he’d also still love to be held by you every now and then. Especially so when it feels as though he’ll drown within the memories of his past.

꒰🗡️꒱・Even if he decides to quit his job as a mercenary and return to the life of an average civilian, the pain that he’s felt—and inflicted—isn’t something that just… goes away. There are times where it’ll haunt him, where it’ll break down his walls and make him feel like a microscopic mess. It will claw at him, tearing him down and turning him into a shell of himself, where he just wants nothing more than to be rid of such terrible memories—and you wish that there were a way for you to remove them.

꒰🗡️꒱・He loves you, and he’d never hurt you, but he’s absolutely terrified that he might. Please hold him, please reassure him that you’re there for him. Reminding him that he’s got a whole life ahead of him to live, and that he’s far from alone—that he’s safe, at least now—it helps him… And he appreciates it, more than you could ever know. So, no, he’s never quite understood what it means to have a peaceful life… but if it’s with you, then… He doesn’t mind learning.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[literaila]

I was re reading ATF and I saw you said listen to be acoustic version-hozier (ur so real for that) and I was wondering what hozier songs you would give to the characters in ATF?

yay! my powers finally come into play! i love hozier and i loooove musical comparisons so fab, lit, etc. you better listen to all of these and completely take them in before moving on. this is a threat.

reader and satoru are obviously damage gets done.

see: literally anything they’ve ever done. the two of them struggle so much (and mostly due to outside circumstances) but when they’re all grown, they’ll look back fondly and wish they could do it all again. because, as mentioned, if the world offers so much pain just to bring them to each other, it’s all worth it in the end.

the tank was always filled up only enough for their getting there btw

(honorable mention: wasteland baby and moments silence (common tongue) shhh)

satoru’s song is from eden

satoru is always positive, always the strongest, but he would flee eden—a garden of all paradise—for anyone he loves. he would give up his mantle, give up his life for all of these kids, and more importantly—for you. he’s made all of these plans and they may never come to fathom, but at least he tried.

and he continues to try, to crawl to his family and protect them with all he’s got. he’s not afraid of abandoning paradise, as long as there’s something waiting there for him.

satoru might not be human, but he’ll damn well try to be.

and there is something so precious about this, babe. and something so broken about this too.

reader is it will come back and no plan

maybe it’s because of her childhood, maybe its always been apart of her, but if satoru can’t see himself as human, reader can’t see herself as worth it. her parents brushed her—and her monster, her curse—aside, and from that point forward, she was alone and content with being so. she doesn’t want to contaminate anything else, doesn’t want to scare anyone away.

it’s a kindness you can’t afford, she might whisper to satoru, but he’s obviously not listening. and just as she comes to depend on him, and their family, they begin to depend on her as well.

and why would you make out of words a cage for your own birds?

why should she see her talents, her techniques, her stubbornness as something to fear? her own mind was a prison for so long—but she’s going to crawl out, day by day. and when that finally happens—everyone will be waiting for her, smiles on their faces.

the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun, after all.

tsumiki is first light

tsumiki sees everything very clearly. her life is a simple thing, something to be grateful for, even if there’s sadness, even if she’s got those blank spaces in her heart (the ones reader taught her about), she understands that it’s simply fate. nothing to be too concerned about.

she is sweet because she wants to be, laughs because she wants to. she finds a home wherever she goes.

and sure, darkness finds you either way, but the sun always comes up. and the light will feel brand new—but it’ll be there all the same.

megumi is hard to choose, but ultimately i think he’s abstract (psychopomp)

he’s said it himself: he’s not a hero, he’s not dictated by normal morals, but he is human. he always has been. he makes stupid decisions and he knows it. and he can’t see the positivity his father, mother, or sister do.

and still, for whatever reason he still watches the world shine. he can see the memories of all of you, and he can’t turn away from that happiness, no matter how dark it gets. love and terror go hand and hand, after all, and megumi is overwhelmed with both.

but, that’s fine, though. it’s not like he can choose who he loves, anyway.

for a little bonus: megumi and satoru are both arsonists lullaby

they’ve both got responsibilities to their bloodlines, to the people around them, and their own legacy’s to fulfill.

jujutsu is simple. don’t tame your demons, just keep them on a leash.

[icrypop]

I am sorry but I can't help but put this here is some flowers 😨😨🥲😔😔😔🌺🌺🌺🌺🌸🌸🌸

Ok so y'know how the whole reading dying for a second time how about we escalate that to FOUR TIMES YES FOURTH TIME🤭 (lol they really gonna have some trauma lol 😋👌) and reader still is able to live but has a hard time trying to cope with it ( poor y/n) but that's nothing for what the Yandere lovesick team is feeling 😭😭😭😭

Just imagine them creating a plan with the parents still freaking out and haveing a mental breakdown for the forth time that day creating a plan that reader should just stay in the graveyard for the rest of the time that their in the phantom realm

And ofc it's the team is yandere because who doesn't love yanderes 🤭😃☺️👌but do what makes you feel comfortable ofc and TAKE YO TIME ❗️❗️❗️❗️

-by ohmydearesthowiluvu72 ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ

Poly! Yandere! SBG Gang x reader who dies 4 times

The Gang!

Warnings: Extreme yandere tendencies, possessiveness, manipulation, veiled threats

OOOhhh jeez this wassss a good request! Im so sleepy guys lmao buuuttt im almost through with th requests, then ill make the announcements :') ANywayyy hope this meets expectations!

-Writer Icy<3

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

The tension in the air after the fourth time the reader dies is suffocating. Each death shakes the Yandere School Bus Graveyard gang to their core, and with every life-threatening moment, their fear of losing the reader forever becomes unbearable. 

But the fourth time? The reader’s seemingly miraculous ability to cling to life begins to take its toll on both them and the gang. The reader, worn down physically and emotionally, struggles with the trauma of dying again and again. Each time they come back, it’s harder to find peace in the world around them. Sleep is elusive, memories of each near-death weighing heavily on their chest, making it hard to breathe. 

But for the gang? Their love and obsession take a darker turn. Witnessing the reader's deaths leaves them unstable, hearts racing with anxiety and a need to protect. Something in their minds snaps. They can’t let it happen again. They **won’t** let it happen again. 

Yandere Gang’s Reaction After the Fourth Death:

Ashlynn:

Ashlynn’s breakdown is quiet but devastating. She paces back and forth, wringing her hands until her knuckles turn white. Every time she closes her eyes, she can still see the reader’s lifeless body. It's a replay in her head that she can't turn off. She becomes obsessed with the idea that they need to keep the reader isolated, constantly muttering under her breath about ways to keep them safe. 

“Away from everyone… from the danger… no one can hurt them in the graveyard.”

She starts sketching out plans in her notebook, a frantic scrawl detailing how they’ll live in the bus graveyard. “It’s safer there. We’ll make sure they never have to leave. Ever.” Her obsession with protecting the reader takes over every thought, and she clutches her notebook like it’s the key to their survival.

Ashlynn’s hands tremble as she clutches the reader’s face, her eyes wild with desperation. “You can’t leave us again,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I won’t survive it. None of us will. You belong with us now.”

She presses her forehead to theirs, her breath coming in shallow gasps as tears spill down her cheeks. “We’ll protect you. We’ll keep you safe. No more dying. No more pain.”

---

Tyler:

Tyler is furious—at the Phantom Realm, at the world, at everything that keeps pulling the reader back into danger. His anger is overwhelming, and he spends hours punching the side of the abandoned buses, his fists bleeding. He can’t control the rage he feels for being powerless every time the reader dies. But beneath all the anger, there’s fear. Fear that one day, the reader won’t come back.

“We have to lock them away,” Tyler says, his voice gruff but laced with desperation. “No more risks. No more chances. We keep them with us, where they belong. Forever.”

Tyler is the first to suggest that the reader never leave the bus graveyard. He’s willing to do anything, even if it means confining them. As long as the reader is alive, that’s all that matters.

Tyler pulls the reader close, his grip almost too tight, his chest heaving with barely restrained anger. “I swear, if anything tries to take you from me again, I’ll destroy it,” he growls. “I don’t care what I have to do. You’re staying with us.”

He buries his face in their neck, his lips brushing their skin as he speaks, his voice low and possessive. “You belong to me—to all of us. Don’t even think about leaving again.”

---

Taylor:

Taylor has been crying nonstop since the reader’s fourth death. The fear of losing them has shattered her completely. She can't handle the thought of watching them die again. Her normally confident demeanor is gone, replaced by a fragile, scared version of herself. She clings to the reader, holding them too tightly, not wanting to let go even for a second.

“We need to stay in the graveyard. It’s safe there,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “We’ll make it home. We won’t let anything hurt you again.”

Her possessiveness deepens as she becomes more attached, unwilling to let the reader out of her sight. Taylor's need for control grows stronger, fueled by the fear of ever seeing the reader disappear again.

---

Aiden:

Aiden’s calm, composed facade finally cracks after the fourth time the reader dies. He tries to stay calm and fake a smile, but his hands tremble, and there’s a haunted look in his eyes. “This can’t keep happening,” he murmurs, pacing the floor of the bus. His mind races with thoughts on how to keep the reader safe, and he becomes consumed with the idea of trapping them in the graveyard permanently.

“We can make it comfortable,” he insists to the others. “No more risks. If they stay here, they’ll live. We’ll make sure of it.”

Aiden begins drawing up plans for turning the graveyard into a livable space, obsessively organizing every detail. He’s determined that the reader will never leave again—and he’ll make sure they’re kept safe, no matter the cost.

Aiden’s fingers trace the outline of the reader’s wrist, his touch light but filled with silent possessiveness. “We’re never letting you go,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with unspoken threats. “Not this time. You’re ours now.”

His lips curve into a smile, cold and sharp, as he leans in close. “We’ll keep you safe. No one will take you away from us. Not ever again.”

---

Ben:

Ben’s response is chillingly silent. He hasn’t spoken much since the fourth time the reader died, his mind spinning with dark thoughts. Ben’s anger has always simmered beneath the surface, but now it’s boiling over. He’s not just angry at anyone who looks at the reader—he’s angry at the world itself for trying to take them away.

“We’ll keep them hidden,” Ben finally says, his voice eerily calm and out of earshot.

His possessiveness intensifies as he starts planning how to keep the reader hidden from the world. Ben is the one who suggests using the bus graveyard as a permanent home, a place where the reader will never be in danger again—and no one will ever find them.

---

Logan:

Logan’s reaction is all-consuming guilt. Each time the reader dies, it feels like a piece of him dies with them. He believes that if he were stronger, faster, smarter, he could have prevented it. Now, his guilt mixes with desperation. He’s the one who suggests that they don’t just live in the graveyard—they trick the reader into staying on one of the buses.

“No one will find them there,” Logan says, his voice shaking. “We can seal it off. They’ll be safe. We can protect them.”

Logan’s willingness to imprison the reader comes from a place of overwhelming fear. He’s terrified that the next time they die, it will be for real. And he can’t live in a world without them.

---

The Plan:

The gang agrees unanimously that the reader must be kept in the bus graveyard, away from the dangers of the Phantom Realm and the real world. They can’t risk losing the reader again. They become obsessed with transforming the graveyard into a permanent home, where the reader can live in isolation with them.

Each member of the gang takes on a different role—Aiden and Ashlynn make the plans, Tyler and Ben handle the physical labor, and Taylor and Logan ensure that the reader never tries to leave. Every time the reader expresses discomfort or fear, they’re met with soft reassurances and veiled threats. 

“This is for your own good,” they all say, their voices filled with devotion. “We won’t let anything happen to you again. You’re safe now.”

The reader’s trauma from dying multiple times only makes them more vulnerable, and the gang takes advantage of that vulnerability, keeping them close at all times. They’ve already lost the reader too many times—they won’t let it happen again.

Ever.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 8: Money Buys Power

“Knock knock.”

The voice stirs me awake, having fallen asleep while doing embroidery before bedtime. In the blurry light I see Thomas standing in the doorway. Is it a trick of the light, or is…?

My eyes widen. “Oh my God! Tommy, your face- you’re covered in blood!” I bolt upright and rush over to get a better look. Strangely the gangster does not seem disturbed.

“It’s not mine,” he replies as he takes my hands to calm me down.

“Dear Lord… Danny?”

He nods.

My head starts spinning. “Oh God… Will he have a funeral?”

Thomas squints. “Not exactly. But I’m not worried about that now. What matters now is the supply of guns. Actually, I’m- What is it you call it? A ‘bit of a pickle’ myself. You know those guns I told you about?”

“Yes.”

He gets a sly grin. “They’re not mine. They were sent by mistake on account of a few drunk idiots. Now the Crown’s looking for ‘em, which poses a threat to us. But I won’t give them back without something in it for the Peaky Blinders.”

That’s it. That’s why everyone’s been so on edge! Thomas, Campbell… It’s all a power scheme. A challenge for one to outwit the other.

“Oh, I get it. The whole ‘I’ll never reach Heaven, why not raise a little Hell’ bit?”

Thomas rubs some caked blood off his coat. “Something like that.”

“Here. Allow me.” I take out my handkerchief and start to dab the red smears off his face. “I thought you were supposed to dispose of the guns?”

“I changed my mind.”

By God I want to slap him. “Are you crazy? You must be crazy, ‘cause that’s one-a the craziest things I’ve ever heard in my life!”

Thomas laughs and pats my shoulder. “I love it when you get animated. Your accent gets thicker.”

I gawk at his laid-back mannerism. “Since when does my accent have anything to do with the fact that you’re stubborn enough to keep stolen artillery?!” I hiss.

“If they want it they’ll have to pay," Thomas replies coolly.

I was wrong. It’s not just about power. Money buys power. Money. It's a crime. Share it fairly, but don't take a slice of my pie. Money, so they say, is the root of all evil today. (Pink Floyd)

I lightly smack Thomas with the handkerchief and put my hands on my hips. “Money? This whole plot is about money? When will enough be enough for you Shelbys?” I point a warning finger. “You’re stubborn. And your arrogance is going to bring you, your family, and everything you care about crashing down on your head.”

“Are Americans always this cocky with their employers?” Thomas asks in a mysterious tone. “It’s a rich man’s world, love. You can’t help it as much as I can.”

There’s no use trying to change his mind. So instead I finish cleaning up what blood I can and pivot to walk back to bed.

“If you woke me up only to scare me with blood and murder then please leave.”

“Well, there’s some good news. Monaghan Boy won.”

The new subject of the gorgeous horse lifts my spirits. “He did? Congratulations!”

Thomas scoffs. “Arthur didn’t seem too happy. Just had to shoot my dear friend and he comes up raging about a bloody horse.”

Something’s up. Thomas speaks of killing a friend but he doesn’t look sad in the slightest. Instead he’s looking around the room at my few belongings; probably trying to determine my social status in America.

“Then why do you look happy instead of someone who’s supposed to be grieving?”

Thomas turns around wearing a devilish smirk. This intrigues me. It’s as if he expects me to decipher a clue-

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” He shakes his head. “Why? How?”

Thomas points to his head. “Sheep brains, darling. Made it look real convincing. Another magic trick, if you will.”

Even under that cold shell there is a sliver of compassion in Thomas Shelby. 

A smile finds its way to my face and I walk over to pat his shoulder in respect. “I knew there’s still good in you, Thomas. Someday you will too.”

For some reason Thomas is confused by this but doesn’t question further. Instead he gets a certain look in his eye that tells me he’s thinking up a new idea. A few seconds of silence go by but I don’t mind. A quiet conversation of eye contact tells me twice as much as a whole hour of useless dialogue. I must say that I’ve started growing a tolerance to his icy gaze.

“If you’re up for it, we’re going out for a drive to the country tomorrow,” Thomas finally speaks.

“Is this for Peaky Blinders only? Why ask me?” 

The gangster simply shrugs. “I thought you could do with some time away from this dusty place. Just a suggestion, so if you don’t wanna-”

“Are you bonkers?” I grin. “That sounds perfect. When do we leave?”

Thomas is intrigued by my interest. “7 am, bright and early. So it’s best to get some shut eye.” He wants to say more but stops. I shouldn’t push it, especially if he’s starting to warm up to me. Thomas may be a kind person when he wants to be but he’s still my boss. And now-

Now he takes my hand and presses a quick kiss to my wrist before tipping his hat in parting.

“Good evening, Ms. Steenstra,” Thomas mutters as he exits the room.

“Sleep well, Mr. Shelby,” I reply as I shut the door.

That man is a complicated puzzle if I ever saw one. One minute he speaks of murder and money, the next he’s discussing a drive in the country. And to say that I wasn’t touched by his goodnight kiss would be a serious understatement. It’s not every day that a fella takes the effort to pull off a charm like that, especially for a background nobody like me. Granted, father’s tried to set me up for courting with a few associates of the family but I never wanted to settle down. I still don’t. Do I? I- No. No I do not. I’m here to teach Finn, and that’s what I am going to do. 

Before my mind can spin anymore outlandish ideas I climb under the covers.

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord, my soul to keep; If I should die before I wake. I pray the Lord, my soul to take.”

If only Thomas could see there’s more to life than a mad scramble for power.

[bella-goths-wife]

A plan set in motion

Evil trio x reader, yandere cullens x reader

You sat with Victorias head on your lap in your room as the tv played. The four of you had gone further into Seattle and changed motels but Vicky still wanted you to room with her.

You had come to find that the group was pretty nomadic. They preferred to travel than to stay in one place. This was a lifestyle you could see yourself liking, you had always wanted to explore.

“(N/n) which of these guys would you date?” Victoria questioned out of no where while pointing at the tv the two of you were watching

“Why?” You questioned with a puzzled look

“Well if I’m gonna help you find a mate, I need to know your type of guy” she said nonchalantly

“Who says I need a mate” you asked confused

“I do” she announces “having a mate will bring out your happiest self, it’s like you’ve finally found a piece of yourself you always needed. I want that for you”

“I’m pretty happy here” you reassured as you went to play with her hair admiringly

“Just humour me” she says playfully

“Fine” you sigh out “I guess id go with joey”

You pointed to the darkly dressed boy on the tv screen. He was a bounty hunter who tested the limits of his team and questioned authority.

“Oo someone likes a bad boy” Vicky giggled out

“Shut up” you throw a pillow at her face

She pulls an offended look before hitting you back. The attack only stopped when the door opened and James with Laurent walked in

“Sorry to bother you ladies” James said as he sat down, Victoria instantly joined him and he put his arm around her

Laurent came to sit next to you, he ruffled your hair affectionately and you laughed gently.

“What’s up” Victoria asked with a kiss to James’s cheek

“We wanted to discuss you, y/n” Laurent said as he turned to look at you with a serious look

“What about me?” You asked before a panicked thought crossed your mind “your not sending me back are you?!”

“Of course not” Victoria reassured while Laurent gently stroked your hand

“We wanted to talk about what the cullens did to you” James clarified

“I’ve told you everything, I promise” you say quickly

“We know, but there’s some stuff they’ve done to you that you don’t know is wrong” Victoria said “we just want to make sure you know what they did”

“What do you mean?” You asked fearfully

“They shouldn’t have binded your chest” Victoria says with disgust in her eyes “they were trying to keep you younger, if you were a human it could have seriously hurt you with how tight they wrapped the bandages”

“It’s fucking disgusting” James scoffs out angrily

There’s a moment of silence as you contemplate what they said, you knew the cullens were abusive but some things they did to you went completely over you head.

“We want to help you” Laurent breaks the silence

“You’ve already helped me, I’m away from them” you said with relief on your face

“But they will never stop looking for you” James said and you felt an anxious feeling build up “even now they have connections looking for you”

“What do we do then?” You asked and James and Victoria share a look

“We kill them” Victoria states

“Impossible” you dismiss the idea “many clans have tried and failed”

“But many clans don’t have they’re prized possession with them” James corrects

“And with the human pet they have, they’re vulnerable” Victoria says with excitement

“How would we even do this?” You question doubtfully

“We make the cullens think James is after the human” Victoria explains “they’ll rush her off and prepare for a fight which gets her away from lover boy and has the family separated”

“I’ll then lure the human away with threats of killing you, that gets her to a location away from the other vampires where I will drink her blood and kill her” James carried on “this puts Edward in a vulnerable spot but also while the others are on a wild goose chase looking for the girl, we pick them off one by one”

“We start with Alice, so she can’t see the rest of our plans” Laurent pipes up “then Victoria will target Rosalie and I will take on esme”

“With the women gone, it puts the men in vulnerable positions because of the mate bond” you say as the plan pieces itself together

“Exactly” James says with a proud smile “I will take on Edward and Victoria will handle Emmett all while Laurent kills off Jasper”

“What about Carlisle?” You ask fearfully

“We leave him for you” Vicky says with a smirk

“I won’t be able to take him on alone, I’m too weak I was never taught to fight like the rest” you confessed

“We will be there to help, we just need his precious daughter to distract him until we get there” Laurent explains “but you will kill him, it’s your right”

“We’ll train you to fight” Victoria reassured “and we’ll make sure you get to be the one to kill him”

“I don’t know if I can” you say sadly, not because you cared for Carlisle but because your fear of the patriarch paralysed you

“Aren’t you angry?” James questioned with confusion “these people humiliated you, abused you and exploited you and you don’t feel rage over it?”

“Of course I’m angry” you defended yourself “I’m furious, but anger doesn’t make me a better fighter”

“But we will” Victoria jumps in “we will teach you to use your anger, to make it your power”

“Take this revenge and know for the rest of eternity that you won against those sick bastards” James encourages “know that you fought back and won after they disgraced you over and over again”

You feel motivation and rage fill every pore. You see they’re eyes on you and feel happiness come to you. They want to help you, to protect you

“Are you in?” James asked expectingly

You imagined tearing Carlisle head from his shoulders, lighting ablaze his pot like body and watching it burn.

“Yes” you nod your head “I’m in”

And with that, your revenge had formed into a plan

[zootopiathingz]

My prediction for Zootopia 2

So as I’ve mentioned in a previous post, there’s an interesting Wildehopps dynamic where Judy is more case-focused while Nick prioritizes safety, which I can maybe see being used for conflict in the next movie. (Cuz if there’s going to be conflict, it needs to be done right for development and not just for the sake of having characters argue…please take notes, Disney)

I imagine the movie starting out with the two of them working flawlessly. They know just how to take down criminals together without exchanging a word. Then one day they’re given a simple interrogation case that quickly escalates and long story short Judy ends up getting hurt. Nick rushes to help her, and she urges him to go after the criminal. He hesitates, but he doesn’t relent and ends up taking her to a first aid kit, frantically bandages her wound, then pursues the criminal along with backup. But by then it’s too late, the culprit is nowhere to be found. At first Judy’s a little frustrated, but she can’t be too mad at him for saving her. Chief Bogo, however, will be furious, and while he is sympathetic about the specific situation they were in, there’s still a dangerous mastermind on the loose. (And then there’s some kind of lecture about balancing work and safety of your partner, etc etc)

Throughout the movie there’s a sort of back-and-forth between “which is more important”, as well as some budding romance because yes. And then at some point the two are forcibly separated by The Bad Guys™️ and are forced to find a way back to each other. However these mammals have done their research. They didn’t just choose two random cops to kidnap for fun. They know who Judy and Nick are and plan to use their dependency on each other against them. For the sake of evil plot and angst the Bad People demand that Judy tell them some Important Information about whatever and when she refuses, they pull the old “if you don’t give us what we want you can say goodbye to your partner”. Naturally Judy’s intimidated by the threat, but she knows they’re just saying it to get in her head. Never let them see that they get to you, after all.

It isn’t until The Big Fight when she finds out they were not bluffing, as when she refuses again one of them ends up attacking Nick right in front of her. She frantically rushes to his side, trying not to panic as she hears the cruel words of their captors; “We warned you. It’s sad, isn’t it? Having to choose between our missions and the ones we love most? We fail either way. That’s why you’re better off working alone”

Then some kind of trap is activated in the room, with limited time until it sets off, and the Bad Bitches escape leaving the two to die tragically. Judy tries to push Nick up, but his injuries are more fatal than they appeared. He can’t move, he knows this. He urges Judy to leave while she can, to stop the criminals and return home safely. And it’s at this point Judy finally understands his point of view. If the roles were reversed he would be carrying her to safety, regardless of the matter at hand. She can’t leave him. She won’t leave him. So she helplessly begins dragging him with all her strength, forcing back tears as there’s a tiny voice in the back of her mind telling her it’s pointless and that they’ll never make it out alive together. (Insert some kind of dramatic “I can’t leave you! I love you!” scene here or something)

Somehow they’d make it out obviously, and they’d have some kind of heart-to-heart moment while he’s getting treated for his injuries. Ultimately they decide that no matter what happens from that point that they’ll put their fears aside and work together to take down the Big Bad, because that’s what they’ve always done.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Hail Black Sheep

“Mind if I bum a cigarette?” A voice asked behind Hood, startling him so bad he nearly fell off the edge of the roof where he was sitting, taking a little break from patrol. He had made sure there was no one up here and no way to get up here before taking off his helmet, and yet when he turned around there was another man on the roof. Dark hair and sunken blue eyes that reflected an odd unnatural green when the light hit them wrong.

Jason’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized the stranger. He had appeared in Gotham months ago and had immediately pinged the bat’s radar as a potential threat. There was something very wrong with the young man and none of them could figure out what it was, any attempts to find out more had gone nowhere because attempts to follow him never worked! More then that it seemed like any mention of him had been erased from the record, they knew he went by Danny and that was all. And here he was standing on an inaccessible roof right in front of Jason.

“Sure,” Jason said as casually as he could manage, shoulders tense and ready to fight if he needed to. He didn’t know why Danny had sought him out but this was the best chance to learn… well, anything about him that they’d had. He held his smoke between his lips as he shook another out of the pack and held it out to Danny.

The other man smiled, revealing canines that were a little to long and pointed to seem entirely human, not long enough to be vampiric though. He came over and sat down on the edge of the roof as well, out of arms reach but close enough he could reach out and take the smoke, Jason was glad he wasn’t any closer. Danny seemed to be making an effort not to seem threatening as he let Jason hand him a lighter as well, lighting up before passing it back.

“Thanks,” Danny said before taking a drag and exhaling slowly. “I hope you don’t mind I messed with your coms, they’ll work again just fine once I leave but I just wanted to talk in private.”

“What do you want?” Jason asked, tense beyond belief, his hand twitching towards his gun, Danny didn’t seem worried which made him all the more nervous.

“Just to talk. I know you and the Bats have been following me.” Danny said with a casual shrug, leaning back dangerously over the ledge.

“And yet we never manage to actually track you,” Jason said a little accusingly.

“No one sees me if I don’t want to be seen,” Danny told him flashing a cheeky grin. “I don’t exist~”

“Yet here you are,” Jason argued and Danny shrugged again.

“Here I am,” He agreed taking another drag, slow and deep, exhaling just the same to create a break in the conversation before he glanced over at Jason. “That looks like a nasty story,” He commented, touching his own cheek where Jason knew the scar of a J still sat on his own. He snarled wordlessly and Danny held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I won’t ask, I have some nasty stories too,” He murmured rolling up his sleeve to show Jason Lichtenberg scarring shooting up along his arm.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you, I guess. You and I have a lot in common really, and you don’t follow the laws when you don’t agree with them, that too,” He chuckled.

“You know that’s why we’ve been following you right? You’re suspicious as fuck,” Jason said accusingly.

“I know,” Danny said with a little sigh. “Have you found anything at all?” Jason scowled and looked down, not wanting to admit that they really hadn’t. Danny just nodded. “You could look up the GIW to find out, not about me, but about what happened to me. Who declared me dead and erased me from the world so they could smuggle me away into a lab and figure out how to use me. I won’t let any of the bats follow me because if you know where I am then others might be able to find out. And I can’t promise they won’t add me to the wanted database again and they’d take that at face value.

“Interdimensional terrorist sounds pretty damn bad huh? Nevermind that I was fucking born in this world and it was scientists they hired that made me this way.” Danny grumbled, looking up at the smog covered sky.

“What way?” Jason asked, because everything Danny had just said was concerning as fuck but that was what he wanted to follow up on.

“Don’t worry about it,” Danny chuckled. “I’m not going to cause any trouble. I was a hero for a couple years as a teenager, before it got so dangerous with people hunting me, and now I’m retired as fuck, the only person I can afford to protect anymore is myself. But I want you to know that too, I’ll defend myself if I have to. If any of you or the GIW come for me again I’m not going to go quietly and I can do a lot of damage when I have to.”

“You know making threats does not help me believe that you aren’t going to cause trouble,” Jason said bitterly and Danny at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“I know, I’m sorry. I genuinely don’t want to cause any trouble for you, us black-sheep should stick together right? I’ve noticed that about you, all the folks the other bats and birds tend to overlook, you look out for them. The whores and the addicts and the street-rats. I like that, I was hoping you might look out for me too, I’ve been mostly haunting your area recently anyway. I could look out for you too? No one sees me if I don’t want to be seen and I can get into anywhere. I’ll keep an eye on things, if I find anything that you should know I’ll come tell you.”

“You’re offering to spy on me as a bonus?” Jason asked incredulously and Danny winced.

“Not on you, for you,” He promised quickly. “I’ll stay out of your business and I really won’t be any trouble! I’ll just keep an ear out and tell you if I hear anything in the way of plotting or people breaking your rules. Like I said, I like how you run things here, I’d like to help.”

Jason was quiet as he thought about that, Danny shifting nervously on the wall next to him as Jason finished his smoke and put out the butt. “Alright, you can stay in my territory, the bats don’t come here often. But I want some sort of accountability from you, at least regular check ins, once a week here and a way to contact you.”

Danny hesitated, biting his lip for a moment before he nodded. “Alright, Saturday night at midnight? I won’t come if I see anyone else around. I don’t have a phone or anything.”

“I’ll get you a burner next Saturday but this is basically a trial period. I know that the crap cops and the other bats say about ‘if you have nothing to hide’ is bullshit, you’re allowed to want privacy especially if you’ve been targeted. But you’re still suspicious as fuck and you’d better be telling the truth about not making trouble on my turf.” Jason said pointing an accusing finger at Danny before putting his helmet back on.

Danny nodded eagerly, looking relieved, tired, and a bit sickly. It wasn’t hard to believe the guy had had a hard life, if that hadn’t made him violent he was a better man then Jason. “You got it! No problems here, cross my heart!” Danny assured, actually making the motion which made Jason chuckle a little.

“Alright, see you Saturday,” He said before pushing off the edge of the roof, using his grappling gun to swing to the next building. When he turned around to look back at the building he’d just left Danny was already gone.

“O are you there?” He asked, tapping at his com to see if it was working again.

“Ya I am, what happened there?” She asked through the voice modulator. “Did you turn off you coms?”

“No, you’re not going to believe this,” Jason chuckled, but he wasn’t going to tell Oracle everything Danny had shared, wanting to meet Danny halfway with trust. Just enough to get her looking into the GIW, maybe if they could get whatever that was off Danny’s back he’d be willing to come out of the shadows and stop acting so fucking shady!

[asirensrage]

Saudade - chapter 12

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: I'm having a ridiculous week filled with a series of "if it can go wrong, it will go wrong." So I've decided to entertain myself by posting the next chapter. I hope you all like it and that it gives you a small bright spot in your day <3

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

The first problem shows up at school. 

Takara is wearing her uniform and heading to sit with some of her classmates to eat when she’s approached. The two boys coming up to her aren’t wearing a school uniform which is the first sign something is wrong. She’s not used to people approaching her during class. Most of the gangsters she knows never make it to high school or, like her brother, are still in middle school. Still, she hears the whispers and sees the fear in her classmates’ eyes when they stop behind her. 

“Hanagaki.”

She shoves a piece of egg in her mouth before she gets up and turns to face them. “What?” She looks them over quickly. They’re wearing some gang uniform she’s never seen before and grinning down at her like she’s an easy target. 

“You’re coming with us.”

“The fuck I am,” she says once she swallows what she’s eating. She hears someone gasp behind her, likely at her language. “I don’t know who you are or what you want. I’m not going anywhere with you.” They’re not that much taller than her, nothing near the size of Draken or Hanma, but they try to intimidate her. 

“You think you’re being given a choice?”

“I think you better back the fuck up before you get hurt.” 

They laugh and Takara tightens her grip on the chopsticks she’s still holding. Takemichi’s warning of what happened to the guy’s girlfriend echoes in the back of her mind. Her aunt told her to use anything at her disposal if she ever needed to. They all seem to forget that Takara doesn’t care about being a problem. Not if she needs to be. 

One of them reaches forward, grabbing the front of her uniform shirt and yanking her towards them. “You come quietly or by force. It's your choice.”

Takara smiles at them widely. “My choice?” She stabs the chopsticks down into the hand holding her shirt as hard as she can before using her leg to force him out of her space. He yells in pain and she hears people sounding shocked around her, but she focuses on the two boys. The other one reaches for her, but Takara is short and flexible. She drops herself down, sliding across the bench she’s sitting on under his arm and punches as hard as she can into his groin. He bends forward instantly, swearing at her. She takes the chance of the opening and runs like hell. 

They run after her. 

She doesn’t stop, even as they swear and hurl insults as they chase. They’re taller than her, but she’s still faster and knows her school. She needs a plan. Especially because if she lets this slide, it’s just going to create an opening for them to come back or for others to take this same chance. 

She diverts her course and heads for where the sports equipment is held. The shed is unlocked and she grabs a baseball bat. It’s becoming a familiar weight in her hands at this rate. 

Takara tucks herself up on a ledge and waits. They’ll expect her to be low. She waits until they open the door and step into the room before she slams the bat down on his head. His friend doesn’t follow and when he falls to his knees, she climbs down. She brings the bat down again. And again. And again. 

Blood sprays from the hits, staining her uniform. 

“You came to fuck me up, huh?” she asks. “How’s it fucking feel?” She hits him one more time, knocking him unconscious. She stands there, panting. For a second, she thinks she’s killed him, but she sees him breathing. 

She takes the bat with her and by the time she takes two steps out of the storage room, the other one shows up. He stops at the sight of her. 

“You kill him?” 

“No,” she says, staring at him. “Not yet at least. Probably needs a hospital.”

“Who the fuck helped you?”

“What makes you think I need help? I warned you.” She shifts her stance slightly. “I’ll give you a choice. Better one than you gave me. You can try to come after me and end up like your friend, or you can take him and get the fuck out of here. The next person who comes to my fucking school is going to end up dead. You can pass that message on.” She stares at him and waits. 

He moves past her slowly, eyeing the bat in her hands before he opens the door to the room she vacated. She hears him swear and ask his friend if he’s okay. Takara can feel her hands starting to shake but she shoves the feeling down. 

There are voices of what sounds like one of the teams coming towards them. Takara does the only thing she can. She flees. Bat still in hand, covered in blood, Takara runs as fast as she can, wishing she was in her blades so that she could go faster. 

She ducks out the back of the school gate and thinks she catches sight of Hanma walking towards the building. He stops as he sees her but she keeps going. She’s covered in too much evidence for the chaos about to be found by the sports team. Everyone saw her get approached by them. 

“Princess, stop!” 

She keeps going. She can’t stop. She can’t stop until she’s far from here. Until--until something grabs her wrist. She swings automatically but Hanma blocks the hit with his other arm. She stares at him, gaze unfocused until he yanks her closer. 

“Takara!”

She jolts, looking up at him finally before she scowls and automatically pulls herself back. “Don’t fucking touch me!” She glances around, looking for more people following her. 

“What the fuck happened?!” he asks, looking her over. 

“I got– I got fucking jumped at school. Let go.” He doesn’t look surprised at the news and it pisses her off more. Takara narrows her eyes as she feels herself start to shake. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

She steps back, away from him. She can’t…he feels overwhelming and too close and she’s still holding the bat and too close to the school and is he still alive–

“Princess,” he cuts in, “fucking breathe.” He holds up the cigarette in his hand and slowly places it in her mouth. “Inhale.” 

She doesn’t know why she listens. She closes her mouth over the cigarette and inhales. The taste is awful and she starts coughing before she can inhale deeply. He grins and takes the cigarette out. 

Takara bends over, trying to catch her breath. “What the fuck?” Her eyes are watering and she glares up at Hanma. He takes a drag of the cigarette as he grins down at her. In the back of her mind, it registers as an indirect kiss. 

“Stopped you from freaking out, didn’t it?” he asks. “Want to try again?”

She straightens and looks at him, hand tightening on the bat. “I need to get out of here.”

“Come on,” he nods. “Here.” He hands her the cigarette again and holds out a hand for the bat. 

She takes the smoke but doesn’t give up her weapon. She inhales slower this time, weirdly more cognizant of what she’s doing. 

“You don’t have to hold it, just breathe,” he says. 

“Fuck off,” she mutters as she starts to walk. It feels weird to smoke. It’s keeping her grounded but there’s a warning alarm in the back of her mind. As though she’s going to be killed by her mother or her brothers if they ever find out. Smoking ruins your lungs. It ruins your ability to…to…race. But her mother here doesn’t give a shit. Her parents here barely look at her and she only has the one brother. 

She takes another drag.

“You look sexy smoking.” 

“Fuck off,” she repeats. She drops the cigarette on the ground and stomps it out before picking up speed. She has to figure out what to do. “God damn it,” she mutters, rubbing her free hand over her face. 

“So who was it?” Hanma asks, still walking next to her. 

She ignores him. Her hands are trembling and all she wants is to get in the shower and go to bed. She’s going to have to go back to that school. They’re going to know. Fuck, what if they call home? She snorts. Then again, maybe that’ll force her parents to actually talk to her. To remember they have more than just a son.

“Can I have another one?” she asks, finally looking at him. 

He grins at her, moving slightly forward to face her and walking backwards. “You want another smoke? Tell me who jumped you.” 

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask for names.” She looks around, half expecting someone else to jump out like it was some stupid game and she was going to have to level up. Again. “They showed up at lunch and wanted me to follow them. Thought I was some easy fucking target.” 

“You kill ‘em?”

“He was still breathing when I left.” 

He laughs at that before flinging his arm over her shoulders. She moves without thinking, raising the bat and flipping it in her hand before jabbing it into his side. He lets out a huff of air, bending over with the makeshift gut punch she lands. 

“Don’t touch me,” she snarls. “Fuck.” She still feels like the world is starting to close in around her. She can’t go home. Can’t let her parents or brother see her like this. Takemichi would freak out and her parents…maybe they wouldn’t even notice. 

She can’t stay here with Hanma haunting her steps. If she even asked for his help, she’d be under his thumb a lot faster than she wanted. Under Kisaki’s control. Especially if he caught the evidence of this. She needs to get out of here. Fast. “Hanma. Go back to the school and tell me what’s happening. ”

“You ordering me?”

“You want me near you? Do this. Then we’ll talk.” 

“I want a kiss,” he tells her, leaning down so his face is by hers. “A fucking proper one. Got it?” 

Shit. Takara rolls her eyes. “Sure, if you can handle the fact I might throw up on you.” 

“I’ll take the chance.” He straightens and looks around. “Wait for me, princess. I’ll get you the information you want.” 

“Prove it.” 

He winks at her and grins before strolling away. He doesn’t seem concerned about the fact she might run. It isn’t like he can’t find her if he wants. Especially with her connection to Toman. 

Takara continues walking, not pretending that she’ll sit around and wait. Once they’re both out of sight, she runs as fast as she can. She’s had years of training, years of building her endurance for the various activities her own parents forced her into. He won’t catch up. 

⛸️

When she finally feels safe enough, far enough away from her school, Hanma and everything that waits for her behind. The people she passes on the street avoid her, mothers moving their children out of the way. She needs to get out of here but her options are few. If she calls Mikey or Draken, they might force her to change her choice. If she calls her brother…he’s going to have a panic attack. There’s no one else. No one who won’t–except…

She moves the bat to her other hand, wondering where she actually is before she clicks on a contact. The phone rings twice before there’s an answer. 

“Been wondering when you’d call for that date.”

“I…I need a favour…”

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[plutodexay]

You won't die

I don't know what this is but enjoy the snowjanus angst.

Ao3

891 words

“Coryo, come on, we can talk about this.” Sejanus spoke, holding his hands out in front of him as his voice shaking while he was desperately trying to be perceived as calm. 

“You’re going to get me killed.” Coriolanus’ hushed response was almost muffled by the heavy breathing in the room. “I can’t risk it.” His arm steadying as the barrel of his gun aligned more with the other mans face. 

Sejanus’ blood ran cold, the borderline psychotic look flooding his friends eyes making the entire situation feel real. He had never been afraid of the blonde before, ever since their young meeting, Coriolanus was always the light shining a path through a dark forest, the place to run to when everything else seemed out to get him. He knew this, Sejanus knew he knew, even though he never seemed overly enthusiastic about the role he played in Sejanus’ life, he never left. 

It really should mean something, the years of friendship, the countless hours of comfort and aid.It meant something to him, most of the memories he looks back at fondly involved the other man. He could see them running around the playground together as bright as day in his mind, for a moment taking over the darkness around him.

It came back with the shuffle of feet across from him, bringing him into the painful reality of his friend and the gun. It was as if Coriolanus was waiting for a reason, any palpable reason not to pull the trigger but by the look shrouding his face he couldn’t find one within himself. Sejanus could see his finger twitching on the trigger, not enough to pull it, but just enough for the threat to be real.

“I would never.” His voice was shaky, there was no point in trying to hide it anymore. “I would never do anything to hurt you Coryo, you know this.” He took a step, a singular step towards the man causing the blonde to step back.

“We're friends, Sejanus.” His words were laced in what sounded like disbelief, causing a twinge of pain in the brunette's chest. “Anything you do will get traced back to me whether I help you or not. They’ll kill me.” 

“They will if you kill me. They might if I get caught.” 

“What?”

“Think Coryo.” Another step forward, but no step back followed suit. “If you kill me, my father will have you killed.” Another step. “That's a guarantee, he’s done far worse over much less.” Another shaking step. “But there is no guarantee I’ll get caught.” The gun was right there, he could see the sweat dripping from his friend's forehead behind it.  “As long as I don’t get caught, we're safe, you’re safe.”

“You really think they won’t find out?” Coriolanus was attempting callus, but the nerves running through his voice made it clear that he was nothing more than a scared child, and he knew it. 

“They haven’t yet.” 

The gun moved, falling slightly so Sejanus could see the burning blue eyes behind it for the first time since this started. Harsh and never wavering eyes were drowning in tears that had yet to fall. No matter how badly he hated to admit it, he liked this. Even with the loaded gun still pointed at him, rather now his chest than his head, the teary eyed man made his heart swell with glee. 

He cared enough to almost cry, that meant something right? This wasn’t as one sided as he believed. Maybe. Maybe there was a chance, maybe he was loved in the way that would allow his soul to leave peacefully one day by the person who controls his every move. 

“You could help me keep it that way you know.” It was a chance, one last chance.

“What?” 

“You could help me. You’ve always been good at hiding the truth.” Even Sejanus couldn’t ignore the rush of red to the pale skin, but he tried, he couldn’t savor in the what ifs, not right now. “If we pull it off maybe you could even lead the rebellion.”

“Lead them?” Perfect.

“Yea!” Sejanus exclaimed, raising his hand to the barrel of the gun, slowly moving it further down. “None of them have any real combat experience, you excelled in training, you’d be the perfect one to teach them.”

“I did do quite well.” He wasn’t fighting, letting the other shift the gun until it was pointing at the floor.

“You did, imagine training hundreds, if not thousands, to follow your lead.” He was right there, his eyes were full of a mixture of lust, it was a look Sejanus had wished to see for years, just not in this way. 

“Okay.” He dropped the gun, allowing the other to grab it and turn the safety on within a moment. “I’ll lead them.” False confidence and power were radiating off of him, but if he wasn’t going to believe it than it didn’t matter. 

Without another word, Coriolanus walked out of the room, leaving a stunned man in his wake with the gun pointed at his head minutes before.There was nothing anymore, just silence and dark walls. Sejanus had a feeling, something deep within his chest almost trying to crawl itself out. All he did was delay the inevitable. 

Snow always lands on top.