#disregard does something to me. in my soul.

[inheroes--wetrust]

i HAVE to do another one he's just too beautiful even when i hate him. some will be from the previous poll and some will be new

[darlingshane]

vicious circle

Michael Berzatto x Spanish/F!Reader

Summary: You're ready to put an end to your complicated relationship with Michael, but he's not ready to let you go.

CW: 18+, explicit, smut, angst, oral sex (f. receiving), workplace relationships, boss/employee relationship.

Word Count: 2.4k

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist.

This is it.

You’re done with him.

You’ve said that way too many times, and each time you’ve gone back to Michael.

Today feels different.

You’ve reached your limit, and you’re not going to break or give in to his worn-out excuses. It’s time to put your foot down once and for all, or he’ll keep walking all over you.

It’s something you’ve been thinking of for a while, and you can’t keep putting it off. So, at the end of the night when he goes outside to have a smoke after closing, you take that further step and leave an envelope on his desk with your name on the back and a two weeks’ notice. You could have sent it in an email, but he hardly ever checks his account and having something physical makes it more official and imminent. You know he’s not going to miss it cause every day he sits at his desk to go over the pile of bills after closing. And it only takes him five minutes to give up and go find the closest place open to get drunk.

Michael is still in the alleyway when you return to the kitchen to finish cleaning your station along with Tina.

There’s a song playing on your phone that you propped on one of the shelves. Occasionally, you hum and mumble the lyrics that you know so well. It’s a powerful Spanish ballad from an album you grew up listening to that really rips your soul apart. It’s about his guy that’s stuck in this vicious circle with a girl that does nothing but lie to him. She’s constantly changing his mind, coming to be with him whenever she feels like it, disregarding his feelings. And he can’t do anything but take her back when she returns.

The lyrics roughly translate to – She combs and tangles my soul. She walks with me, but I don’t know where she’s going. My rival, my partner. She’s deep inside my life and at the same time she’s so out of it.

It’s the perfect song to describe your situationship with Michael. Your back and forth with Michael Berzatto is nothing but a constant headache, and you refuse to be like the guy in those lyrics and let him use you whenever he wants to.

The music changes to something more upbeat in your playlist when the song ends, and you can see Tina from the corner of your eye shyly swinging to the beat.

When Michael comes back into the kitchen, he picks up Tina’s hand and starts spinning her and dancing around with her animatedly with a big smile on his face, singing along, stirring a laugh out of her.

Every other day, he’s like a fucking black cloud sucking all the air out of the room with all his gloom and doom. But tonight, he’s in a really good mood, and you love it, cause you’re about to change that. He’s caused you so much pain that it’s only fair to take your stab at poking the bear for once.

“C’mon, that’s enough, Mikey. I gotta finish here and pick up the kid.”

He gives Tina one final spin to end the dance, and tells her to go home, that he’ll finish in the kitchen.

It wouldn’t be the first time he's done that.

The thing with Michael is that he never follows through with anything he says. He's just empty words and promises. When he says he’s going to do something for you, like cleaning your station, you’ll always return the next day to find it how you left it cause he really doesn’t give a fuck.

While she slips off his kiss-printed trademarked apron and goes to the lockers to pick up her stuff, Michael tells you that you can leave too. But you stubbornly shake your head without looking at him.

“Okay, have at it,” he scoffs and retires to the office.

You're scrubbing the surface of the stove imagining wiping that grin off his face when he opens the envelope.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, chula.” Tina says from the entrance to the kitchen.

“I won't. Buenas noches.” (Goodnight.)

“Buen-” she starts saying back but is quickly interrupted by Michael who comes out again, wearing the scowl you proudly put on his face.

“Can I see you in my office?”

“Todavía no he terminado.” (I haven't finished yet.)

“I don’t give a shit about that. Office. Now.” He orders storming back into his little cluttered room.

You glance to the side to see Tina still standing there, throwing a most puzzled look at you.

“¿Pero qué le has hecho?” (What have you done to him?)

“¿Yo? Nada.” You shrug casually. (Me? Nothing.)

“Estaba el pobre de tan buen humor. De verdad que te gusta arruinarle el día al jefe.” She says with a humorous tone. (Poor guy was in such a good mood. You really enjoy ruining the boss’ day.)

“Puto cabrón likes ruining mine,” you scoff, cleaning your hands in the sink before taking off your apron and turning off the music on your phone.

“You two are more alike than you think. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I’ll try.”

Tina finally bids you good night before leaving out the back door.

Taking in a fortifying breath, you pause for a second before crossing the doomed threshold into his office.

He's sitting on his chair, staring blankly at your notice letter.

“You're not quitting,” he says, swiveling in his seat as if you had no other choice.

You clutch your fist to keep yourself from giving up to his objection. Printing your nails on the heel of your hand reminds you to remain strong and firm in your decision.

“You're not my boss. Well, you are for a few more days, but you have no right to force me to stay.”

“You're a fucking piece of work. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“Takes one to know one. I'm just so fed up with all this shit, with you, with this fucking place…”

“What? You found a better job than this?”

“No. But I will. Why? Don't you think I can't, motherfucker?”

“Didn't say you couldn’t. I'm sure with your experience you have many better options than this, sweetheart.”

“Then, what's the problem?”

“I can't just let you go.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you practically run this place. If you leave…”

“You'd have to hire someone else to fill my position, and would have to pay them more than you can't pay me.” You finish the sentence when he trails off. “You're so full of shit, Michael. You and I both know that the only reason you won't let me go is cause you can’t handle seeing me moving on. You could just say that instead of being a coward.”

“I’m the coward? That’s rich. How many times have you said you were leaving and backtracked?”

“This time is different. You've left me no choice. I'm busting my ass here and for what? For nothing. I pick up all the slack, I do everything you refuse to do and wait, you still never thank me for it, you never even considered giving me a raise.”

“Is this about money? You know I'd pay you more if I could.”

“I don't care anymore. I'm done bailing you out and trying to save something that doesn't wanna be saved.”

“Are we talking about me or the shop now?”

“Both. I can't be working here, and have you coming and going out of my life whenever you want to. I’m sick of your games. You can't say you won't let me go and then sit all day in the middle of the kitchen, so I can hear you yapping with Richie about this girl and this other girl you screwed. You're fucking toxic, and unprofessional. I doubt anyone will ever put up with your shit for as long as I have.”

Out of frustration, you dig your nails so hard into your skin it almost stings, but it helps you keep you from breaking in the middle of that sentence.

“I didn't fuck anyone. I was just messing with you.”

“Mira,” you sigh, defeated, “you're exhausting and incredibly immature for a forty-year-old. Get your shit together. I don't care what you do, or where you stick your dick in. I'm done. Let me be done, Michael.”

“I can't.” He finally stands up to level up with you, but leans on the desk instead. “Let's work on a solution. Tell me what do I have to do for you to stay?”

“Give me a raise. Stop being an asshole. And grow up.” You enumerate sharply.

You do have a few more in your list, but those are the main three.

“I can do two out of three.”

You can't stop the urge of rolling your eyes cause you know he's pathological.

“No deal.”

“Please, don't do this. I'm begging you here. Do I need to get down on my knees?”

That'd be a first.

“Look, I promise to stay away from you, or talk shit with Richie when you're around. You won't hear anything like that again. Just… please, this will fall apart without you, mi vida. If you really need a raise I'll think of something. But give me some time. I…”

The desperation in his voice cracks your armor, and you can't help but feel sorry for him. It's that familiar feeling that doesn't let you escape his hold on you, even when you’re well versed in his bullshit and know that always promises big, but never delivers.

It's weak and fucking pathetic to see how you fall for it every time he calls you mi vida. (my life)

Your fist unclenches, letting your defenses abandon you because you're just as bound to this place and his lies as much as he is.

His posture straightens, shortening the distance between you and him. One of his hands reaches to frame your chin, and you inevitably let him hold your face, leaning on his touch, as he inches closer to capture your lips.

“Lo siento, mi vida,” he mumbles while his mouth gently bounces against yours a couple of times. “I promise I'll do better.”

“Stop promising. Just show me, Michael.”

With his hand still holding your face, he glances at your eyes before focusing on your lips again, watching up close his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Fuck, you look so hot when you're angry,” he deflects cause he can't cope with the fact that you're right— he’s fucked up.

“Fuck you,” your grit stirs a chuckle out of him as he pushes your back against the wall.

A second later, he’s seizing your mouth once more, tearing apart your invisible armor away as his tongue slides to break the last defense you’ve put up. You let him, cause at the end of the day you still love him. No matter how many times he’s wronged you, you can’t bear the thought of leaving him stranded.

The desperation burning at the tip of his tongue is intoxicating. The only thing you can do is give in and kiss him back with nothing but anger. Which he happily accepts. He has you where he wants to– pinned against the wall, his hands devouring your body, and letting you drown in the depths of his mouth while he steals every last breath until your lips hurt.

When he’s done with your mouth, he moves to your neck. His bearded face scratches your skin as he mouths his way all over the surface; carelessly nibbling and sucking your flesh raw between his teeth, leaving his mark.

“Dime, corazón… what do I have to do for you to believe that I’m for real this time?” His breath catches in your ear. (Say, sweetheart…)

You almost break into laughter. It seems like a joke. You won’t believe anything until you see it, but you play along.

“Eat my pussy.”

“You’ll believe me if I do that?”

“No, but it’d be a start. Hey, you say you wanted to get on your knees to beg… So beg me.”

Pegging you with a look, he doesn’t hesitate to follow your request.

You watch him gravitate toward the floor on one knee without taking his eyes off you. His fingers swiftly open your jeans, tugging them down to your ankles. He licks his lips, letting his fingers scratch the surface of your thighs before pulling down your panties too. Then he buries his face between your legs and works his tongue to tell the same lies to your clit. He laps around it like he does with your relationship, touching the edges without diving further into the core. He’s always known exactly how to give you enough to satisfy your cravings but always leaves you asking for more. You want his soul and body to be yours, only yours. Right now, the only thing you own it’s his mouth and fingers that work together in harmony with the tickling of his beard to coax your orgasm to the surface.

He’s two-knuckle deep, fingertips pressing directly on your g-spot, when his lips finally wrap around that swollen bud. You have to grip on his hair to keep your knees from buckling down as he drives you to the finish line.

Pulling hard on his locks makes him grunt sinfully against your folds. You tug again and again, earning yourself a string of groans and curse words printed directly on your cunt. A mild wave of bliss flows nicely all over your body as he slips his dripping fingers out of you. He brings them to his mouth and licks him clean as you regain your breathing.

“You taste as good as I remember.”

“Don’t forget about it when you’re eating out some other puta.” You grumble pulling your panties and jeans up.

“Hm,” he stands and lifts your chin with those same fingers that were inside you. “You know I’d never do that to you.”

“No, no lo sé.” You lightly shake your head. (No, I don’t know.)

“I’m telling you.”

“A lot of shit comes from your stupid mouth.”

“A lot of good things go in too… Like you,” he deliberately licks his lips, collecting the shining remains of you.

“Just remember, next time you won’t get a chance like this. I’ll simply leave. And no more pussy for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

[venusvxen]

The Outer Man Cannot Desire For He Does Not Exist

This may sound a bit hypocritical given what my last post was BUT. Hear me out!

This is not a take that should be taken too serious. It either resonates with you or doesn’t but this is a way of thinking that soothes me and relieves my anxiety.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how Edward and Neville go on about how all desire comes from within and have been taking that literally. Seriously.

What I found is that I can be going through very trying horrible circumstances on the outside but still be content and giddy and warm and bubbly on the inside which really does lead me to co-sign this statement 100% but that’s not the point of this post.

Because of this “all desire comes from within” mantra… It’s made me think about why I fall out of states. Why do I happen to feel anxious and feel wanting and desire inside despite feeling all those beautiful lovely emotions from my new state that I’ve accepted as true?

It’s because the inner man is acting as the outer man and seeing life through the outer man to desire.

If all desire comes from inside that means that all our thoughts, all our anxieties, all our stresses, ALL of it simply comes from what our inner man is experiencing inside.

If i feel anxious about not getting my desire, it’s not my outer man talking, but instead it’s my inner man leaving the state of the wish fulfilled and seeing life through the eyes of the unfulfilled outer man. That saying “the eyes are the window to the soul” kinda rings true because I’ve been taking this saying very literally and telling myself that our senses are really just our Inner Man’s way of gouging what’s happening in the world in a bit. He has the freedom to disregard them (unlike the man of the senses [outer man]) and create something new, but he ( IM) still knows what’s happening outside. Which is why (to me) when we think unlovely fearful thoughts, it’s really our inner self slipping into a state because again, thoughts come from states, and states all are occupied by THE INNER MAN.

After this revelation it led me to think about the role of the outer self and what I came to realize is that the outer self is nothing more than a mere shell. It cannot desire, it cannot create, it can’t even create its own thoughts because that’s a product of the state the man inside has slipped into. The human self is nothing more than a minion. It has no mind of its own. No original thoughts of its own. The tears we cry are a product of a state we fell into. The elation we feel when we think of something is because of a state we fell into. But none of that is being created from the human self. The human self is a slave in a sense a sense. But a slave to who? Why to imagination.

This line of thinking while very esoteric has allowed me to feel very at peace. Because unlike before when I felt like I was at odds with my “ego” and trying to get it on board, I now realize that acknowledging/identifying with lack is caused by.. the same person that created my desire. It’s not the outer man looking around and saying “i don’t have this where is my manifestation ”. it’s the inner man looking outside through its human lenses and deciding to fall out of a lovely state and into an unlovely one.

It reminds me that there is only one.

And so when I get anxiety at times about my desires and feeling like it’ll never show up, i soothe myself by reminding myself that “the outer man doesn’t even desire this… only the inner man does”. Because it’s true. Desire comes from the inside. The outer man cannot desire anything because it’s a shell. Almost like a turtle shell except the skin is softer and it can talk and move. And so if i remind myself that the only place where I truly want my desire is within, I’m able to maintain that state longer.

If the inner man is the only one that desires because the outer self if a shell of the one inside, then i can fully be content with only having my desire inside which is something i STRUGGLED with before omg!!! Because if the inner man is the only one who is conscious and truly alive then all i have to do to maintain this happiness is keep my focus on my desire and not on what’s happening outside? Because external confirmation does not matter, because the outer man does not have thoughts of its own or wishes of its own.

The outer man doesn’t WANT anything. It can’t want anything. it’s a SHADOW.

This isn’t to say that I don’t occasionally fall out of a state from time to time. No, I do. But i’m able to maintain states longer because I remind myself that validation from a turtle shell means nothing and most importantly, the only one who is making me believe that I need validation from the outside is myself.

Occasionally I’ll see something that gives me anxiety or look around to others getting their things sooner than me and feel anxious, but, i remind myself of the fact that the goal is to be happy within.

I should not look to my human self who is a slave to something bigger than himself for confirmation on if I’m doing it right. For me, when i really feel the wish fulfilled I get this insane rush of euphoria and smile so hard my cheeks hurt.. I can’t even recreate the smile by myself if I try to. I remind myself that THAT insane rush of happiness that I can’t even recreate if i try to (without being in the state) is confirmation enough. Not the 3D. Because one comes from within and is God smiling, and God being happy, whereas the other is nothing more than an effect of a cause.

In short this line of reasoning if you chew upon it enough allows you to be comfortable only (for now) having your desire in the 4D and being comfortable with it because the 3D self cannot desire anything and the only way to perceive lack is if your inner man leaves the state of the wish fulfilled and chooses to occupy a state of lack. It’s never been about the outer man. Because the inner man can be inside you fulfilled and happy even despite your outside world and because the outer man is a shell with no thoughts or opinions of its own it can’t say anything about it. Choose to keep the inside man in the state of the WF and remind yourself that that’s the only part of ur psyche that even desires.

And also, if the human self is apart of the 3D and I catch myself smiling a lot while doing my imaginal acts, doesn’t that mean that there IS movement happening?

Food for thought. Anyways this post was long, idk if it made sense but oh well

[dorlilymylovesss]

I want to speak out on a topic that has been really bothering and stressing me out. For several months now, Me and my friends who don't even ship jegulus, but are just Regulus fans have been harassed by Jily shippers. And not just with hateful words, but with specific accusations of fascism.

I want to start by saying that fandoms are a place where people can express their creativity and interpret characters as they like. Fanfics, art, and shippings are forms of self-expression, and they don't have to conform to canon. It allows us to look at characters from different angles, develop alternative plots, and create something new. And I don't judge or hate people for their favorite characters and ships.

I'm a huge Regulus fan even before the Jegulus ship came along. Regulus Black is a character I have a deep interest in for many reasons. Despite his limited appearance in the Harry Potter books, his story and character leave room for a lot of interpretation and thought. And I don't like it when people describe him as a regular Death Eater.

First, Jily fans often argue their dislike by saying that their ship is canonical( of course this is true and no one denies it) and James would never date a death eater. However, it should be remembered that fan art and shippings are inherently activities for the self and the soul. Even if a couple doesn't conform to "official" canon and never even met, it doesn't diminish the right of fans to create their own stories and interpretations.

Second Jegulus shippers are called misogynists.

But they may simply see these characters as interesting dynamics that catch their attention or interesting tropes that can be created. Choosing this ship doesn't necessarily mean they are intentionally excluding female characters and being negative towards them. Yes there are people among jegulus shippers who dislike Lily and exclude her from the story, but they are a minority. Plenty of jegulus shippers love Lily and also ship jily.

The charge of misogyny implies a conscious and systematic disregard for women or female characters. However, in most cases, Jegulus shippers simply enjoy a particular story or interaction between two male characters. This does not preclude an interest in or respect for female characters. Many shippers actively create and support content featuring female characters in other contexts or ships.

There is always a diversity of interests and preferences in fan circles. Not everyone likes the same characters or couples, and that's fine. However, to infer misogyny just based on someone's preference for a certain male couple without considering the overall context of a person's interests is wrong and unfair. Plus, I've seen thousands of Jily fans who were blatantly homophobic towards the marlily and pandalily enjoyers, and called James her only love, and erase her identity, leaving only her relationship with James.

Third, why calling the death eaters fascists is wrong and insulting to the actual victims of the tragedy.

Fascism as a political ideology and movement had specific historical roots and consequences, including brutal repression, genocide, and war. Death Eaters are fictional characters created by transphobic Rowling for a work of fiction, and their actions and motivations are part of a fictional universe.

Using historical examples of real-life suffering and tragedies to compare to fictional characters is disrespectful to those affected by real-life events. Historical tragedies such as the Holocaust require special respect and careful handling. And many Jewish content makers have already spoken out about it.

The kind of hate I've encountered as a Regulus fan is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. That being said, I've always loved jily, but after the hate, stupid accusations I've cooled off to them. You can't treat living people like that because of fictional characters. A lot of people don't care about canon written by a creepy transphobic woman, can you imagine?

Instead of wasting time on conflict and hate I suggest you create content on your favorite ships and leave other people alone. You have no idea how your hating can affect a person.

Not all shippers have the intention to demean or exclude other characters. Many of us simply love a particular dynamic and choose to explore it in our writing. This should not be taken as a threat or insult to other fans.

I love jegulus and jily, but my fav ship is dorlily and it saddens me that fans of the same fandom hate each other so much.

Not all shippers have the intent to demean or exclude other characters. Many of us simply love a particular dynamic and choose to explore it in our writing. This should not be taken as a threat or insult to other fans.

Leave other people alone. If u can't create content for your favorite ship and only can hate others its your f..king problem, it's unhealthy and childish.

I'm deeply sorry for jegulus artists and writers who got hate here and even death treats. I hope you will continue creating something that makes you happy.

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 4 - Aphrodisiacs: Mayuri Kurotsuchi x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Captain Kurotsuchi needs bodies for his new inventions, and a random old shopkeeper in District 53 has clients to serve. Distribution of illicit drugs seems to transcend the World of the Living, with shinigami and regular souls alike, flocking to the market, but how does Captain Kurotsuchi test his products in the first place?

TW: MDNI! Abuse of power, Mayuri having no sense of ethical obligations as a researcher, what I think drug dealing/trafficking would look like in Soul Society, fictional recreational drugs, dubious consent, fondling, non-consensual drug use.

Word count: 2516

Read on AO3 here.

 “Kurotsuchi-san, thank you for the products last month. It was quite the hit with my customers.” The elderly woman prattled on as she hobbled around her store. Dried plants, herbs and bottles containing questionable liquid filled every nook and cranny of the shop.

“Did any of them report side-effects?” He asked, inspecting her wares, taking fistfuls of items into his haori’s pockets. He continued to rummage through the store, as the old lady watched in amusement.

“Aside from what you told me before hand, no, none did. They remarked they all felt refreshed.” To which Mayuri looked at her, then immediately grabbed something off the shelf behind her. “If you could make that batch again, it will be hit. I can find the ingredients that you need.”

“You will sell what I make.” Mayuri sneered, looking down at the old woman, “I don’t take orders.” But he continued to take things off her shelves.

The woman laughed, “yes, yes. Of course.” She walked over to where she kept her money and pulled out a small, yet heavy pouch, “this was the share from last month.” Mayuri held the pouch in his hand, opening it up and nodding at the money inside. “And of course, everything is on the house for you.” She smiled as he walked out of her store without as much as a goodbye.

Mayuri reviewed the notes he made about the different products he invented under the guise of “research” for the Gotei 13. A few members across the 13 squads knew of his backdoor research, but none dared to report him to the Head Captain.

For all intents and purposes, the Head Captain believed that Mayuri was conducting research for the betterment of Soul Society…

And it just so happens that some of his products fit in line with that thinking.

Technologies, therapies, interventions, Mayuri has done it all, but only a few of them ever see the light of day. Which is how he aligned himself with the herbalist on the outskirts of Rukongai District 53. She would distribute his products to the masses that travelled through her shop, and he would have a willing patient population to test his inventions. They would both profit off the success.

Last month’s product was some type of pain-relief liquid. This month he wanted to try something different.

Taking out all the items he had taken from the woman’s shop, Mayuri inspected each item carefully. Nemu and Akon approached him but left immediately as he shrieked at them to leave.

He trusted Nemu and Akon more than any of the other seated members of his squad, but this process was for him alone. No one was to interrupt him. And so, Mayuri continued his inspection, scrapping off bits of each item, suspending liquids in other liquids. He analyzed and tested different formulas, noting down each one.

Hours had passed, then days, and later weeks. Mayuri would only leave his lab if “the idiots” needed him for something. To which Nemu and Akon translated it as “anyone” outside the two of them that needed his attention.

But at last, his product was complete. Now he needed test subjects.

Mayuri walked along the corridors of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute, disregarding all the fuss and commotion they brought when they noticed him around. He paid no attention to them; they weren’t the test subjects he was looking for.

Instead he made his way to the connected, yet distinct, Squad 12 barracks. Not all his members were involved in the SRDI’s mandate, nor did he want them too, “that would be too boring.” He coldly explained the other captains, not knowing he just wanted soldiers to experiment on that weren’t working in the SRDI as well. That would make things complicated if an invention of his backfired.

You on the other hand, didn’t notice your captain immediately, as you were preoccupied bringing in large manuals of some chemicals for the institute. You dropped the heavy load when you heard Captain Kurotsuchi shriek your name.

Turning around, you bowed your head immediately to the man, “good morning, Captain!” You yelled. You didn’t want to admit it to you friends in other squads, but your own captain terrified you.

“What are your duties today?” Mayuri asked, peering at you as you remained bowed to him.

“I’m delivering these manuals to Lieutenant Akon, then picking up chemicals for Hiyosu, sir!” You answered, anxiety crawling through your body as you felt Captain Kurotsuchi stare at you intensely.

“Deliver these to Akon, then meet me in my lab, immediately. Ignore Hiyosu’s request.” “Yes, sir!” You yelled, watching him walk away, while you struggled to carry the manuals to Akon.

You fidgeted in front of the heavy, locked door to the captain’s personal lab. You weren’t sure if you should knock, announce yourself, or maybe the captain had a secret camera somewhere and didn’t see you there.

But without warning, the door immediately jolted open, scaring you. But you pushed through your fear and entered the lab.

There were numerous devices thrown around, with open bottles, of what you assumed were chemicals, covering several tables and lab benches. The lab smelt bizarre, but it wasn’t necessarily off-putting, yet it wasn’t sterile like you imagined it to be.

You saw Captain Kurotsuchi type something away, scoffing and typing faster. He glanced at you and then resumed typing. You stood there, waiting for him, as he continued to type. You tried to stifle a yawn as you looked around the lab again, “Sir, how long do I have to wait? Lieutenant Akon gave me some additional duties to attend to.” You politely asked.

“And when does Akon’s orders supersede mine?” Mayuri coldly said, the atmosphere of the room getting chilly as your anxiety was going into overtime.

“It doesn’t! I just wanted to be mindful, that’s all.” You nervously explained. You noticed you were sweating and tried to calm yourself.

“Are you nervous?” Captain Kurotsuchi asked, as he moved away from his computer. He stared at you intensely, his golden eyes scanning over your body, as if he was dissecting you.

“No! I’m not.” You lied, hoping your voice came across as confident.

The captain grabbed your hand and forced your wrist open, shoving an innocuous blue pill into your palm. “Take this, it’ll help with the sweat.”

You wanted to die. Your captain noticed you profusely sweating and commented on it. You stared at the pill, your hand slightly shaking, while anxiety filled you up again. Your gut began to turn as you brought the pill to your lips. A part of you doubted the pill would do anything but calm you down.

“Well on with it!” Captain Kurotsuchi yelled, “you said you didn’t have all day!”

“Y-Yes sir!” You stuttered, shoving the pill into your mouth. You struggled to swallow it, noticing your mouth was incredibly dry, but managed to get it down.

It was then Captain Kurotsuchi pushed you on to a chair, and wrist and ankle shackles were thrust on to you. “S-sir?” You asked, eyes bulging. Your anxiety was rampant. “What is this for?”

“It’s a test.” Captain Kurotsuchi said, watching you.

A test?! Your mind screamed. “Why am I being tested?” You pleaded, shaking in your seat.

Captain Kurotsuchi rolled his eyes, “not a test for you, fool. A test for the medication.”

“But you said it would help with my nerves!” You panicked, shaking even harder in your seat.

“In theory, yes, but it hasn’t been tested until now.” You began to hyperventilate at what you were hearing. Until… your brain felt like everything was going by slowly.

Huh? What’s going on? It was as if your anxiety melted away and you were faced with something… pleasant? You stared at your captain but were unable to say anything.

You heard him say something, you saw his lips move, but you weren’t processing what was said.

Captain Kurotsuchi approached you and inspected your body. He poked your face, prodded your chest and flicked your wrists. He took samples of your blood and saliva, while checking your dilated eyes.

Little did he realize; his touch was doing something to you.

You sighed, happily, “sir that feels so good” as you leaned into your seat. Your body felt sensitive, but not in pain. You didn’t notice the vials of blood he had taken from you already.

The captain looked at you in curiosity, and this time undid a portion of your uniform, leaving your chest bare. Another blissful sigh escaped your lips as Captain Kurotsuchi lightly touched your chest.

“Does this feel good?” The captain asked, grabbing your face. You grinned and nodded your head.

“It feels really good.” You mumbled, drool dribbling down your lips. You felt the familiar pangs of arousal flaring across your body, causing you to squirm.

Captain Kurotsuchi stepped back and watched you writhe, taking note of all the physical symptoms you were displaying. “What else do you feel right now?” He asked, staring at you.

But you didn’t respond, eyes glazed over as your hips moved within the confines of the seat. The motion you made felt good, too good you thought, and you needed more of that.

And so you proceeded to rock your hips back and forth, the friction from the seat rubbing against your growing arousal. You moaned loudly and threw your head back and continued on, your hips moving faster as you orgasm came closer. Captain Kurotsuchi sighed, approaching you once more. He slapped your face, to which you gave another loud moan. Your pace didn’t slack

You saw the captain’s lips move and felt something bind and secure your hips. You whined at the sudden loss; you were so close! Until you felt the cold hand of your captain down your pants. Your legs were already spread apart from the ankle shackles, leaving Captain Kurotsuchi with easy access. You groaned again as you felt him touch you.

Captain Kurotsuchi’s touch was merciless though, as he aggressively touched you, feeling your arousal spread against his fingers and in your pants. You then realized you didn’t feel the hip bindings anymore, and let your hips slam up and down the seat, his hand still touching you vigorously.

You bit your lip, and wondered if you tasted blood? You couldn’t tell, but everything felt amazing, yet surreal. It was then you felt the captain push his palm against you, rubbing more vigorously than before. The intensity was too much to bear, and you cried, your orgasm ripping through.

A scream erupted in the lab and Mayuri watched you slump into the seat, unconscious.

Captain Kurotsuchi removed his hand from your pants, inspecting the remnants of your arousal covering his fingers and palm. He pulled your hair, forcing your head up to his level, but you were out cold. He slapped your face again, but no response.

He scoffed at you, rubbing his hands on your uniform as if to clean them. Not satisfied, he washed his hands in the nearby sink. He watched you in the corner of his eye to track how long it would take you to wake up. Once he was clean, he undid the shackles and left you in your seat.

He proceeded to type away today’s event in his product diary. Roughly two hours had passed, and you awoke, which he noted. Your clothes were still on your body, albeit barely, but before you could register what just happened, the captain handed you another pill and you forgot what had even happened.

“I’m sorry about that Captain Kurotsuchi. Did you need me for something?” You asked, confused as to why you were sitting in a seat, and he was staring at you intensely.

“How’s your anxiety?” He asked, his eyes focusing on you.

My anxiety? You thought, “well, I don’t feel anxious right now.”

“Anything else?”

“Um…” you hesitated, trying to think, “my body feels relaxed, like I got a massage?” You tried to explain.

“Nothing else?”

“Not really. I feel fine.” You remarked, checking your body. You remembered taking a pill, then waking up.

“The pill you gave me…” you asked, as you fidgeted in your seat, “does it make you fall asleep after?”

“Yes.” Captain Kurotsuchi lied. “Now get out. You’re done here for the day.” He turned around and went back to his computer, typing away once again.

“Yes, sir!” You squealed, bolting out of his lab. “These soldiers today are a bunch of noisy imbeciles.” Mayuri muttered under his breath, as his lab doors shut close once again.

It was a rare moment to have a day off from your squad duties. Months had passed since the incident with Captain Kurotsuchi, and the memories of it fading from your mind. But you remained grateful to not have done any further direct work for him. Your friends, from other squads, had decided to visit District 53, as they heard rumours of an herbalist with unique concoctions that would heal the body, mind and soul. One of your friends admitted they were struggling with some intimacy issues and Squad 4’s treatment options weren’t working. Your friend had heard that this herbalist would have something to cure that.

You and your friends browsed through the shop, taking stock of what was there, when your friend spoke to the shopkeeper. Although they were quiet, you could hear whispers of “trouble” and “hard to orgasm.” The old lady smiled at them, “I have just the remedy for that, my dear.” You went over and saw her pack in a small bottle of familiar blue pills.

“I’ve had these before!” You exclaimed, “they work wonders. I felt amazing afterwards.”

Your friend stared at you in shock, but the shopkeeper gave you a wide grin, “is that so? I’ve been selling them for a while now.” The old lady rambled, “they’re quite popular with you Shinigami folk.” She cackled, packing the bottle into a pouch. “I’ll pass that along to the creator” she kept laughing, “I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic.”

“When did you take these?” Your friend asked, “you never mentioned it.”

You thought about it, but you couldn’t remember when exactly, but the vivid colour of the pill was seared in your memory, as well as the pleasant association you had with it. “I’m not sure, but I think I took it when I had a really bad anxiety spell. I don’t even remember where I got it from.” You said, trying to recall when and where you took it.

But nothing came up, and strangely enough, you couldn’t recall an blanks or gaps in your memory.

“Or maybe I dreamt it.” You laughed, “I can’t even describe the feeling anymore, I just remember feeling good when I took it.”

“Well if it’s good enough for you, then I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Your friend joked, paying the shopkeeper. Soon night was approaching, and you escorted your friend back to their barracks. Once you made it to the Squad 12 barracks, you made a mental note to ask Captain Kurotsuchi if he knew about the little blue pill.

Thanks for reading!! Mayuri is definitely an interesting character to write for, so I'm not completely sure I nailed it. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy it!

[littleholmes]

I am not at all surprised about this. In fact, this is what I was lowkey worried about. Megumi’s will to live has been on thin ice for a while, I’d even go as far to say that even before he met Yuji he was barely wanting to be alive and it was only because of Tsumiki, and later Gojo too, that he kept going.

Even as a child, Megumi, from what we’ve seen, was very apathetic toward himself and prioritize Tsumiki over himself. Tsumiki and later Gojo were the ones that kept him moving and pushing toward something. They took what was essentially a kid who felt numb and had little regard for his own life, and gave him a reason to keep moving.

Tsumiki drove his will to hang on. Megumi carried on because Tsumiki would hopefully one day wake up and even later he had to get Tsumiki to safety during the games. But now she’s gone, so following his tendency to live for Tsumiki, where does that leave him? What’s worse is that right before Sukuna switched to his body, he saw that Tsumiki wasn’t Tsumiki anymore, she was Yorozu, so it makes sense that the last thread of his will to live disappeared along with Tsumiki.

His apathy (and I feel like that word is not even fully what it was, but it’s a start to describing it) was so strong in his early days and we saw that briefly when Gojo first showed up in his life. When Gojo explained the situation and his choices, Megumi only cared about Tsumiki being okay and he chose the life that would ensure she would be safe. Tsumiki was also his reason for how he lived as well. In the flashbacks where Megumi would beat kids up, Tsumiki was one of the contributing factors to making him stop that and being a better kid. But then Tsumiki was cursed and while he wasn’t harmful to others anymore, that apathy grew and morphed into a greater disregard for his own life.

We saw this when Gojo was training him after the baseball bunt situation, and mentioned that it was okay to be selfish while also alluding to the fact that, among other points, he needs to stop being so willing to sacrifice himself. Later, during Shibuya, Megumi was willing to die after summoning Mahoraga and Sukuna ended up saving him so his future plans for this current body takeover wouldn’t dissolve. And speaking of Mahoraga, when Yuji and Megumi first met, Megumi was just about to summon Mahoraga but then he was stopped. And speaking of Yuji, I feel like Yuji gave Megumi a small boost of energy to keep going, but with Tsumiki gone now, and right before his eyes and in such a mocking way (especially the way Yorozu laughed?), that’s enough to make Megumi break. (And that doesn’t even take into consideration that he is likely internalizing that Gojo died at this hands, despite Sukuna being the one controlling him.)

Megumi’s soul giving up doesn’t surprise me, but it does make me sad because it’s clear that he’s been walking the tightrope for a while and I want to hug him. Also, this makes an interesting parallel to when Toji lost Megumi’s mother. I’ve written two different posts about how Toji went into “I don’t care” mode and how Megumi slowly shifted into that same “I don’t care” mode when trying to get back to Yuji in the games, but I feel like losing Tsumiki like that broke the last thread of will he had and now he truly does not care.

I’m going to wrap this up and tag my friend @theanimepsychologist on this because it’s Megumi we’re talking about, but Megumi losing his will to live makes sense when Tsumiki was the primary reason Megumi kept moving and he’s been hanging on by a thread for a while, but it doesn’t make it any less sad, and I hope that, despite it being Jujutsu Kaisen and loss being one of the main themes, Yuji can somehow get him moving again.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧’𝐬

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Love this dude, and October is getting ever closer. Here’s some of my personalized headcanons.

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: Smut & Normal headcanons for the Dullahan.

TW // Smut, Teratophilia.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

A fabled; mythical creature in folklore that can be described as a headless rider. Acting as a reaper of sorts: calling out his targets name before they perish.

��𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜/𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜:

First off, how did you gather the attention of this headless reaper? Were you on the brink of death and suddenly fought back against him? Did you manage to just see him behead the next poor soul chosen to be judged? Did you possess his skull? Perhaps you were just wandering and found you; not ready to be judged yourself, alone, scared and cold? Tsk, tsk, that won’t do well with him. You must be perfectly ripe for when you are chosen.

So, the man just wraps his cloak around you and lifts you up in his arms with ease. I’m sorry, you get not choice in this matter. Man will pick you up whenever he likes. You’re kicking and screaming? His grip is like a damn dog with a chew toy. You would honestly hate to feel what he does to his victims when he would pull their hair up with such a grip before cutting their neck clean off.

Man would just plop you off at the edge of the forest too. Unwrapping his cloak from you before just… shaking you off; shooing you away, disregarding of you. The only thing he cares about in this situation is your soul that will eventually be judged. So why should he care about you when he watches from the tree line, making sure that you get into the town safely? Why should he care that he misses the warmth and the intoxicating smell your living body provides? You were a simple soul to collect, nothing more.

Honestly, you were not a simple soul to collect. You came back for more answers much to his dismay. He was(wasn’t) just starting to forget you… but nevertheless he provides his company for you. He isn’t that much of a monster to outright kill you for your curiosity’s, and he’ll either provide some answers or nothing at all depending on the question. “Why did you not kill me?” Silence. “What is your purpose?” You get a short answer. He’s a soldier in his past, what do you expect from him? A full blown explanation? Yeah, right. Something’s are just good to be left alone.

However, the Dullahan is rather courteous of you. He doesn’t get annoyed when you watch him like he should have been. Dullahans don’t like to be watched, but you? He likes you to ogle him, watch him whenever you can. He won’t outright show it or say it, but you have a sneaky suspicion that he does like you to watch him, but with anyone else? They either get the crack of the human spine whip or get a basin of blood over them. A sign of irritation and a possible mark of death for the person. Yeah, you gonna have to calm him down whenever someone stares at him, and this includes you too.

He hates when someone stares at you for to long like, it’s above his own level of irritation. He gets super pissed off, and it’s an automatic death warrant for whoever thinks they can lay their eyes on you. He knows he can’t kill them however, but when their time came? He’ll make sure to make it slow, but in the meantime? He’ll make sure to induce fear into the poor soul.

Please, somehow find a piece of gold and watch how his whole attitude changes. The usual stoic, quiet horseman now a shuffling away from you with long strides, hissing at you and hiding behind stuff, making it look like it was some sort of sibling fight. When you do eventually grant him to be free of the gold in your hands he will be huffy with you. How dare you insult him with such weaponry? He’ll avoid you for a certain amount of time (checking for more gold) before returning to you. Probably giving payback for what you did to him.

Would let you ride his horse that had an uncanny liking for you as well, but only on one condition: to let him sit behind you. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, but he likes the warmth of your body against his undead one. Likes to hold you close and thumb at your stomach and lean over to bask in your presence. It’s definitely not because he touch-starved, totally not. Don’t give him that look. He’ll push you in the creek.

Speaking of water, man’s cannot cross running water without having help. So, I mean, you can use this to your advantage, and you definitely do. Sometimes you just like to spray a some water at him from a water bottle for the fun off it. It’s doesn’t do anything much to him, but a tiny sizzle. What does, is that you do it repeatedly. Attacking him with a weaponry he never seen before and definitely holds a new found spite for such contraption. Especially when it blocks him from touching you. He makes a vow that he will hunt down every last waterbottle so you can’t use it to keep him away.

On the more… courtship side. This undead, headless man is rather a hopeless romantic. Loves to invest his time with you as much as he can. Presenting you dead, intact roses that somehow don’t crumble in your hands. Offering you his hand, a soulless skull, and his cloak whenever the chance arises. Even going as far as daydreaming about you. Once again, he’s, was a soldier, what do you expect from him wanting to have a lover to care for? To receive such affection he longed for in the beginning?

𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥/𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭:

Dullahans mate for life, so you bet yourself that he is keeping you to himself in any moment he can. Caressing you any moment he can get to you. Again, definitely not because he touch-staved, but because he’s a bit possessive. He doesn’t want you to leave him for some higher power or perhaps something lower. He hopes that you know that he mates for life as he will be absolutely devastated if he finds out you were disloyal with him. He won’t try and win you back either, but if someone challenges him for you? He’ll take that offer to keep you at his side.

Man is quite vanilla at first. He wants to explore you, find out what makes you tick the quickest and the slowest. He wants to worship your body that takes the cold of him so well. His cock warming up within your warm body. He takes it slow, no matter how hard you whine, struggle and cry. He’s testing his boundaries as well as yours. His will top tier here. Nothing will sway and stop him to savor; appreciate your willingness to become his in this moment of intimacy. You are both becoming mates for life after all.

Oh, he would bite the hell out of you if he could. Mark you up and down with his teeth, maybe spill a little bit of your blood to taste. To scar you just a bit to remind you of who you belong to. That you have accepted him as your mate just as he did with you. That nothing shall keep you apart as your souls make a pact with one another. I mean, he could mark you with his decapitated head, but it maybe a lot of work to keep the head up with a hand. So it’s often stored in a very safe place so he doesn’t die on you if someone finds it and smashes it.

However, just because he can’t bite you doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to use his fingers, and man is he a pleasurable horror with them. You’re not sure if you want to snap at him, push him, cry out or even do all three at him. He is that good. Curling his fingers in all the best places inside and out. Knowing just where to make you tick from the first time he explored your body. He gives a deep, phantom-like laugh each time he hears you cry out in ecstasy when he manages to find your g-spot with ease. Pleased that he is doing his job as a mate very, very well.

You know when he throws a warning of blood at the ones that look at him? Well this kinda applies to you. He likes to dip his fingers in some of the blood and trace it over your body. In a trance as he watches the blood seep over your skin and down below you. His own arousal coming forth seeing you covered in it, and it isn’t long before he has you pinned beneath him, moaning out for him. Man definitely has a soft blood play kink. He won’t injure you though for the blood, but when that time of the month comes? It’s a bet between time and his incredible senses.

Sometimes when he gets a bit huffy, kiss his neck; nibble it. Your powerful Dullahan has just become shocked and striked down as horny. Do it repeatedly, mark his neck and he’ll melt into a puddle of goo underneath you. Not only are you showing him that you are wanting to love him and be loyal to him, but you are also showing that he is worthy himself, that you’re accepting him. He will become a little submissive to you during this, but only for a moment. It won’t be long before he gets tired of your teasing and will flip you over and raw dog you, purring almost drunkenly into your ear.

Oh, dress in revealing gold too, if you can, and tease the hell out of him with it. He’ll freeze in his spot, looking you up and down. His hand twitching before he scowls down at you. How dare you do this treachery with him? Tease him with your body that he most definitely can’t touch as you wander about, doing your tasks? He’ll stand there horny, brewing and tentatively watch you. Waiting for any opening you might give, and he swears one day he’ll figure out how to counter the gold, but until then? He’ll wait for his opportunity to dash for you when you strip tease him. You definitely didn’t leave the place he railed you in after having his “rewarding” fill.

Being a creature of old, of course he would want a heir. Thats all they wanted back then in the Middle Ages. So you definitely bet he’ll put you in a mating press and give it his all. Desperate to make you swell with a child that would be his and yours of blood and soul, at your permission of course. He maybe classed as evil or a monster, but he isn’t immoral. He respects your wishes.

Another thing to tease him on is by swimming in the water. As stated before he cannot go through running water without help. So, to have you swimming and away from him makes his boil as well. He can’t get to you without you coming to him or to get something that will help him snatch you right out of the water and take you right on the bank of the water. You’re also going to need help walking which he would be happy to provide you. Definitely not going to cockwarm you to keep his own cock warm.

Run away from him and he’ll take it as a challenge. That you want him to prove something to you like his strength, stamina or something of the latter. He loves these little chases as it proves himself to you, but it also well… arouses him. He gets to see how your body moves and twists away from him. His senses hyper aware of you at all times, and to prove to you that he can provide? He’ll capture you, pin you to the forest floor and claim you then and there. Showing you repeatedly what he is made of, and why he should be yours. You won’t forget it. ;)

[svnnyd4ys]

the seven + nico incorrect quotes lol

Piper: She's the girl of my dreams! Annabeth: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams. Piper: I have a lot of dreams.

!!!

Leo: *watching their house burn down* Leo: Leo: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

!!!

Jason, looking at a selfie of Leo’s: I hate this photo. Leo: I’m cute as fuck in that photo! I’m smiling kindly. Jason: You’re not smiling kindly; you look like you’re up to something. Leo: Up to kindness.

!!!

Hazel: Nico, how do you feel about lifting heavy things? Nico: My doctor just said I should avoid— Hazel: Being a wuss? I agree.

!!!

*During a game of Hangman* Piper: Nope, there’s no Q. You lose. Leo: Are you kidding me?! You can still add something! Piper: I already added a belt, four earrings and an extra arm! YOU LOSE!

!!!

Jason: Are you guys bringing anything to the party? Nico: Yeah, an empty stomach. Annabeth: My sparkling personality. Percy: A flagrant disregard for common decency. Hazel: ... Hazel: Chips.

!!!

Piper, looking at a map: It’s a barren, featureless wasteland out there, isn't it? Jason: Other side, Piper...

!!!

Percy: You know, Leo, when you generalize, you tell general... lies. Leo: ... Leo: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns.

!!!

Annabeth: What time is it? Piper: I don’t know, pass me that saxaphone and we’ll find out Piper: *BLASTS the saxaphone* Nico: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXAPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING Piper: It’s 2 in the morning.

!!!

Leo: You’re overthinking this. Hazel: You don’t know the appropriate level of thinking, Leo. What if I’m underthinking?

!!!

Frank: I am an expert at identifying birds. Percy: Okay, what about those ones flying over there? Frank: Yeah, they're all birds.

!!!

Percy: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere* Jason: Where did you get that? Percy: My pocket. Jason: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket? Percy: Skills.

!!!

Frank: If I fall down these stairs, I'm just going to lay down and accept my fate.

!!!

Frank: I’m taking a look at your numbers, and it doesn’t look good. You have a lot of measurements. Quite a few variables. Jason: Is that… bad? Frank: Variables are the #1 risk factor for outcomes. The past is a big contributor to the future. Jason: Isn’t that just causality? Frank: Causality is the leading cause of death in this country. Jason: So what are my odds? Frank: Do you have a family history? Jason: Of what? Frank: Just, in general. Jason: …Yes? Frank: Oh no.

!!!

*the Squad at Disneyland, in the teacups* Leo, Frank, and Jason: *spinning a little and talking* Nico, Annabeth, and Hazel: *flying past them, spinning as fast as they can, screaming*

!!!

Percy: My dad drowned at sea when I was little so whenever someone jokes about fucking my mom I’ll pretend to be really sincere and say some shit like “Glad to see she’s moving on, my dad’s death hit her pretty hard.” Then watch them absolutely fumble trying to figure out a response to that statement. Percy: Update, she got a new partner I can no longer make the joke.

(pre discovering yk his half God-ness)

!!!

Annabeth: I’m gonna mix a can of Red Bull with seventeen shots of espresso in a fishbowl and then chug it while Kids by MGMT plays in the background so I can perceive twenty-three spatial dimensions and fight my own soul.

!!!

Nico: This is a safety pin. *cuts off end* Nico: It is now a danger pin.

!!!

Jason: Sometimes I talk to myself for no reason. Jason: Me too!

!!!

Piper, explaining why they are not allowed to cook: I put the noodles in the pot and put the pot on the stove and turned the burner on high. Turns out you don't put noodles in marijuana and I almost burnt the whole house down.

!!!

Hazel: *gets set on fire and screams in agony* Hazel: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

!!!

[danmeiconfession]

This is just an opinion.

I’m sorry, but I can’t support a protagonist like Shen Yuan if he can’t respect the body of the person he’s taken over. The transmigration trope in many of these novels often leads to the erasure of the original soul, which makes me feel sad for them. While I understand why many fans like his character, I can’t root for him anymore. There’s a sort of horror in knowing that he and the rest of the readers pushed for such a bleak ending for Shen Jiu. An omnipotent being forces him to be a scum villain, and the person who condemned him has now taken over his body, his name, and married his abuser, his torturer. Imagine how horrified he’d be to learn he’s married to his own disciple—it’s disgusting. Someone who is just like all the men in his life takes away his autonomy and the name he earned; Shen Qingqiu is literally ripped away from him.

I remember someone mentioning that Shen Jiu follows the formula of MXTX's shou protagonists, and they’re right. The only difference is that he’s not allowed to gain a second chance. When Wei Wuxian tried to save the Wens, it cost him everything, similar to how Shen Jiu’s attempt to save his martial brother set off a domino effect of tragedy.

There’s a difference between Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan. Unlike Shen Yuan, whose path is clear and predictable, Shen Jiu’s very rare but kind actions often lead to dire consequences. Each time he tries to do something good, the world retaliates harshly. That’s why I like Shen Jiu more. I don’t mind a character’s misdeeds if they reveal something profound about them. Shen Jiu’s attempts to do good, even when they backfire, show his sincerity. Shen Yuan’s choices, on the other hand, seem easy and don’t require much moral struggle.

What saddens me is that a rich, lazy millennial is thrust into the body of a traumatized orphan and somehow gets the happy ending. Even if he didn’t ask for it, there’s a moral duty to respect the original character he's inhabited now because without Shen Jiu’s body, Shen Yuan would have no purpose is that even a lie because what goals or aspirations did he even have? We truly have nilch to go off what he's like without he's online persona but frankly he's a bad person to me if he harasses an author and makes no effort to even get himself to express his emotions especially his apathy like the fuck bro what going on here bro?? How do you just not give a shit about anything besides your beloved LBG like he's cuckoo up in the head like a few bolts and screws were lost in the making of his birth.

It actually made me mad, to be honest. I wish the author had never created Shen Jiu as a character because it spoiled my enjoyment of the book that I took as fun entertainment. SVSSS was the first transmigration story I read that gave the original soul such an important role. Other stories often use these bodies as self-insert devices, but knowing Shen Jiu is an actual character made me see him differently.

I also find it unsettling that Shen Yuan has to live as another person for the rest of his life. Sometimes, silence speaks louder than words. If the author isn’t going to do an identity reveal in an MXTX story, what does that say about Shen Yuan’s relationship with everyone else and the ML included? Wouldn’t everything fall apart? Doesn't that mean something is off lol???

This omission to me kinda undermines the foundation of his relationships, especially with the main love interest. Living a lie means that Shen Yuan’s connections are based on a false premise. If those around him, including the main love interest, don’t know who he truly is, their interactions and feelings might be based on their own misconceptions. In essence, the story hinges on Shen Jiu because his life and identity are the foundation upon which Shen Yuan builds his new existence and I find SY careless and disregard of that to be unappealing for a protagonist to follow .

I can see how the System's role in "SVSSS" can be interpreted as a form of horror, especially considering the implications for Shen Jiu. Here's an expanded take on your guys idea a theory of sorts:

The System's reasoning for booting Shen Jiu out and replacing him with Shen Yuan could be seen as a chillingly calculated move. Shen Jiu’s unwillingness to follow the predetermined outline and his resistance to the System's goals could have led to his removal. The System’s primary objective seems to be the satisfaction and happiness of Luo Binghe, the protagonist. Given the tragic nature of "PIDW" (Proud Immortal Demon Way), the System might have sought a more compliant individual to ensure a more favorable outcome for Luo Binghe.

If the protagonist, Luo Binghe, obsessively desires companionship and affection from Shen Qingqiu, and the original Shen Jiu isn't reciprocating, the System might decide to alter the course of the world. This new beginning involves replacing Shen Jiu with someone who not only understands the narrative but is also deeply invested in Luo Binghe's happiness—someone like Shen Yuan. As a form of punishment for Shen Jiu’s disobedience, the System forces him to take a backseat, helplessly watching as events unfold with Shen Yuan in control of his body.

This scenario adds a layer of horror, as it portrays the System as an omnipotent force capable of rewriting lives and fates to suit its goals. Shen Jiu’s autonomy is completely stripped away, and he’s forced to witness his own life being manipulated and his identity being overridden. By replacing Shen Jiu with Shen Yuan, the System ensures that Luo Binghe’s desires are met, but at the cost of Shen Jiu’s existence.

.

[little-diable]

The Devils Inside Me - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

Y'all voted on it, so here we go. Remember: don't like it, don't read it. Don't copy this to any other platform, please. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader's parents think she is possessed by the devil, and only one man can free their daughter from His grasp.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), religious connotations, power play, choking, wrong use of a bible, talks about exorcism

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (1.6k words)

Darkness. She was surrounded by a thick blanket of darkness; so thick (y/n) couldn’t even see her hands. It had been hours since she had been locked into this room, separating her from the rest of her family. She had listened to their conversations, how they feared for her soul. She had listened to their prayers, how they asked God to free her from the demons living inside her flesh cage. She had listened to their phone calls, how they begged Priest Riddle to find his way to them. 

At first she had been angry, body filled with a biting heat, directed at her parents, at the two people that should love her more than anything else. They had pushed her away, scared of the daughter that was possessed by the devil, or so they thought. At first she had thought they were pulling a prank on her, a thought that had been disregarded the moment she had picked up on the fear filling her parents eyes. 

The sound of three knocks banging against the door leading to the dark cellar echoed through the air, making (y/n)’s eyes snap open. Her heart was racing, filled with anticipation, wondering if it was the man she had been waiting for. Deep down she had fostered a crush on the handsome priest for years, giving into her carnal desire with her hands buried between her thighs and her lips parted, allowing his name to roll off her tongue. The man had something awfully intriguing to him, though nothing reminding her of the love a man of God should carry within him, no, he had something dark to him, like a soul stuck in Sheol, no longer believing in redemption. 

“It’s me, (y/n). We will free you of the darkness inside of you.” His voice had something awfully sweet to it, dripping from his lips like honey, syllables rolling off his tongue like a prayer spoken in the early morning, betokening a good day laying ahead. Priest Riddle stepped into the cold room, holding onto a burning candle with one hand, while the other gripped his black bible. Their eyes met, two pairs finding one another in the darkness like magnets calling one another closer, a band that wouldn’t snap anytime soon. “Your parents fear you, they tell me you’ve invited the devil into your soul. Why would you do that, sweet (y/n)?”

“I didn’t. I am not possessed.” Her voice trembled, filled with anger, fear, and curiosity. Would he touch her? Would he pray for her wellbeing and leave her behind with the ever growing ache between her thighs? “I don’t know why they think that, I didn’t do anything wrong, priest, I promise.” 

The clicking of his tongue forced her to shut up, eyes following his every movement. He sat down in the chair vis-a-vis hers, candle placed down on the table. Their eyes didn’t break contact, not even as he opened his bible with one hand, while the other drew a cross on his forehead. 

“Pray with me, (y/n). Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. And these signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up serpents with their hands; and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover.” His words filled the cellar, a sound so daunting even the shadows finding comfort in the darkness didn't dare leave their hiding spots. (Y/n) couldn’t help but give into the chuckles wanting to rumble through her, finding amusement in the situation – her first mistake. “I see. You’re too far gone, praying won’t free your soul. The devil has already taken over your mind.”

“What will you do? Give me a rosary to pray?” She was teasing him, wondering how far she could push him. (Y/n) had heard stories about the man, stories that forced themselves into her dreams, picturing herself with her naked body pressed against his, allowing the priest to mark her body, to leave his stain on her. 

“I’d stop running my mouth, I won’t be gentle with your body and soul.” The priest rose to his feet, towering over her with his eyes focusing on her lips. Before (y/n) could begin to understand what he was doing, Priest Riddle had clamped his hand down on her throat, forcing her to tense, eyes growing wide. For a moment he didn’t move, staring down on her with a satisfied smirk tugging on his lips, lips he pressed against hers only seconds later. 

The kiss wasn’t sweet, wasn't loving, no, (y/n) could taste the darkness seeping from his every pore on his tongue, a taste so biting, she feared the man was poisoning her. His hand on her throat grew tighter, would he snap her neck? Would he kill her before this could go any further? Her trembling didn’t stop, growing more prominent with every moan he lured from her, giving into the sounds only a woman guided by the devil’s call could produce.

Even though the kiss didn’t last long, she felt breathless, unable to breathe through the highs of pleasure he pushed her through. With their eyes connected the man straightened his spine, eyes flickering down to his bible. He threw the holy book to the ground, eyes focusing on it. “Onto your knees, we will get rid of your demons either way.” 

Her body blindly followed his command, knees placed on the big bible. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding in her chest, a sound so loud, even those wandering the realm of death picked up on it. She was trembling, wondering if God was looking down on them, watching the sinful acts that were played out in His name, wrongdoings they’d never be freed of.

She gulped heavily as she followed the movements of his hands, how he freed his cock, twitching in his grasp. With a few of his cold fingers finding her chin, the priest tilted her head up, forcing (y/n) to look at him. His eyes had something to them she couldn’t pinpoint, he was challenging her, momentarily giving her a chance to back out, to pull away before they’d cross that last line – but she didn’t, all she did was part her lips, allowing his thumb to press down on her tongue. 

Priest Riddle gave his cock a few pumps before he replaced his thumb with it, resting heavily on her tongue. Her saliva dripped down her chin, making a mess on the ground as if it was raining from the dark clouds above. She tried to move her hands, wanting to use them on the parts her mouth couldn’t reach, but the dark gaze he shot her forced (y/n) to sit still, only bobbing her head. His groans left her aching for more, shifting her hips in a desperate try to touch herself, using enough pressure to push herself further towards the edge.

“Don’t you dare move, this is not for your pleasure, this is not to satisfy your sinful needs. You shall suffer, and you shall learn.” His sharp words left her whining around his cock, eyes fluttering close to try and sort through her thoughts. Priest Riddle’s hand found the back of her head, pushing her further down on his cock, making her gag. Curses left the man of God, words only those wandering the same paths like the devil would use, giving into those fears (y/n)’s parents carried deep within themselves. 

Her eyes were glassy, filled with tears as clear as the blessed water one would use in church, wetting their foreheads as if Johannes had bathed them at Bethany Beyond the Jordan. The priest wasn’t showing any mercy, fucking her mouth with rough thrusts, making her gag, whine, and moan. A sinful mixture she’d never be freed of. 

“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. You shall follow the call, you will serve me, and through me you will serve Him.” He spoke his words as if he was cursing her, sharp, without any mercy lingering inside his body. (Y/n) took his words without any chance to reply, feeling him twitch in her mouth, about to fill her cheeks with his release. The priest gave it one last thrust before his orgasm shook through him, cum painting her tongue and cheeks white. 

(Y/n) swallowed every drop without protests, showing off her clean tongue as he pulled away, redressing himself with a simple “Good girl” leaving him. She was trapped in a whirlwind of different sensations, shame, pride, and arousal. But the priest didn’t seem to spare her another thought, pushing her off his bible, picking up the holy book before he turned from her. 

Their eyes met once again before he blew out the candle, trapping her in the darkness once again, a fog of darkness she’d wander through till her last hour on this very earth would come upon her.

[thequeenviana]

Ensnared

Pairing: Yandere Kim Taehyung x OC(Yuna)

Warning: This story is a work of fanfiction and is purely a product of the author's imagination. It does not depict any real-life events or individuals. While some characters may be inspired by real-life idols, their portrayal in this story is fictional and not representative of their true selves. Please note that this story may contain triggering content, including themes of abuse, gore, murder, humiliation, bullying, rape, and other mature and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those under the age of 18. If you are uncomfortable with such content, it is recommended to refrain from reading and kindly disregard this story.

Synopsis: Yuna finds herself questioning her husband's love and fidelity. She becomes convinced that he has fallen out of love with her and is engaging in an extramarital affair. Adding to her distress, her husband refuses to acknowledge their relationship publicly and instead presents someone else as his wife. Despite the heartache, she chooses to stay by his side, hoping for a change. However, the question lingers: How long can she endure this situation before reaching her breaking point?

​They say that being in love is a beautiful and magical feeling, where two souls intertwine and create a bond that can withstand any storm.

But, why is it that in my case, it feels like something is missing?

My name is Yuna, Kim Yuna, a 26-year-old woman who is married to the one and only Kim Taehyung. He is not only the world's famous CEO but also a self-made model of his own modeling company, which goes by the name of "Kim's Fashion Empire." We have been married for almost two years now, but why do I felt like he was embarrassed to reveal me to the whole world,that he claims someone else as his wife that brakes my heart.

I don't understand how this happened, but he claims that our marriage is just a facade to protect me from his rivals. However, deep down, I can't help but feel that he is protecting himself more than me. There was a time when a reporter asked him about his rumored wife, and the whole world was eager to know who this lucky girl was. Many speculated that it could be a celebrity or an idol, especially Nova, who was working closely with him. We had countless fights over this, but he always managed to calm me down with his sweet words and promises to reveal me to the world as his wife.

The day finally arrived when he introduced Nova as his wife to the public, and it shattered my heart into a million pieces. What hurt even more was when the reporters asked for proof, and without hesitation, he kissed her in front of everyone. As I watched this heartbreaking scene unfold on television, tears streamed down my face, and my heart felt like it was being ripped apart. Meanwhile, our second-anniversary cake remained untouched, a symbol of the love we once shared but now seemed to be crumbling away.

When he finally came home, I couldn't contain my emotions any longer. We erupted into another argument, and in my pain and anger, I slapped him and pushed him away, forbidding him from touching me with his filthy hands. He had the audacity to try and kiss me, even after kissing that woman! But, being the foolish woman that I am, I couldn't think straight. I gave in to him once again, swayed by his sweet words, apologies, and manipulative explanations. He made me believe that he only did it to protect me from his enemies, who would stop at nothing to bring him down by using me as a weapon. And in my weakness, I allowed him to win me over, as he tightly embraced me, and I cried myself to sleep.

I know I may seem foolish and naive, but please don't be mad at me. I truly love this man with all my heart, and it's that love that keeps me holding on, hoping that one day, he will truly see and appreciate the love I have for him.

​...

​It was 8:46 a.m., and I stepped out of the car, a smile gracing my face. I adjusted my dress and held onto the lunch I had cooked for him. With a mask and cap on, I entered his company, always in awe of its grandeur. His intelligence and hard work had brought him to this position as the CEO of the number one top modeling agency, making him the most handsome man in the world. I couldn't help but feel immense pride in my man.

As I walked towards the receptionist, she greeted me with a warm smile, and I returned it graciously. Making my way through the VIP elevator, I ascended to his office. The sound of the elevator opening made me look up, and I stepped out, heading towards his office door. However, my smile faltered when I saw them again. Him and Nova, standing side by side, engrossed in conversation. I watched as they seemed to be getting closer, his smile widening as he listened to her. I didn't allow myself to dwell on negative thoughts and cleared my throat to catch their attention. They both turned towards me, and Nova quickly distanced herself from him, his smile fading as his eyes met mine. It had been a while since I had seen him smile like that, but not for me, for another woman. Was this a sign? No, I couldn't let myself think that way. I cleared my mind and approached his desk as Nova excused herself and left us alone, maybe for good. Ugh, why was I feeling jealous again?

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his face void of emotions, twirling his expensive and favorite pen between his fingers.

I smiled at him and placed the lunch box on his glass table, but my actions halted when he said, "I already ate lunch." I couldn't help but notice another lunch box on his table. Did he... no, Yuna, stop it. I cleared my throat, looking away from him, trying to control the hurt emotions that threatened to overflow and the tears that welled up in my eyes.

"Oh, is that so? Then I'll just go," I said, not giving him a chance to respond, and quickly walked away.

I heard him call my name, and I stopped, waiting for him to burst through the door and stop me from leaving, but he didn't. This was new. He had even neglected our planned dinner date last night and hadn't given me a valid reason for canceling. But, being the understanding wife that I am, I didn't pester him and simply supported him, assuming it was for business. He had changed. My consciousness whispered these words, but I laughed them off, trying to stop myself from overthinking.

​.....

​"C'mon, Yuna, are you really that naive?" My friend Ria said to me in disbelief. I hissed and looked down, finally letting my tears flow as I cried helplessly in her comforting embrace.

I had decided to meet my friend because I didn't know what to think anymore about my situation. I poured my heart out to her, explaining his behavior towards me and the signs that maybe he no longer loved me. My friend suggested that perhaps he had been using me all along and that he was only staying because of my late father.

My father and he were close business partners, and that's how I met and fell in love with him. When my father fell sick with cancer, he made him promise to take care of me and love me unconditionally. But now, it seemed like the man my father entrusted me to was drifting away from me.

"This is wrong, what he is doing is wrong, Yuna—what the hell?" Ria frowned at me, and suddenly our attention shifted to the television in the cafe. Not only my friend and I, but all the customers in the cafe turned their attention to the TV. I struggled to maintain consciousness, gripping my friend's hand tightly, even though I could hear her hiss in pain. Right now, I didn't care. My focus was solely on the TV screen.

The reporter flashed a sweet smile as she updated everyone on how Kim Taehyung, my husband, was caught by a paparazzi in one of the most luxurious hotels in Seoul, dating his fake wife, Nova. My heart shattered once again, for the millionth time. Maybe there was no heart left to be broken in me anymore, considering the immense pain I had endured since marrying this man who had promised the world to me. He had promised to protect, cherish, and love me, but they were all sweet lies thrown in my face just to make me his submissive wife.

I saw adoration and that wide, charming smile that had once made me fall in love with him, now directed towards the woman he held at the waist in the picture displayed on the television. The reporter smiled widely at the sweet display, and everyone watching seemed oblivious to how much it was breaking me. He had succeeded in breaking me. Kim Taehyung, aren't you done? What have I done to deserve being made a fool of? I only loved and still love you, but why?

What's even more heartbreaking is that just two hours ago, he had informed me that he had an important meeting with Mr. Jung. Little did I know that it was just an excuse for him to meet his secret lover behind my back. I understand that he claims to be using her as a way to deceive his rivals and make them believe she is his wife, but this is too much. It's no longer about that. I can feel it, strongly. He has been cheating on me right in front of my face all this time, and I am the foolish one who ignored all the signs.

Pathetic. That's what I am.

​.....

​Kim Taehyung walked in with his fake wife, Nova, by his side, basking in the glory of the cameras flashing and capturing their every move. He proudly gripped Nova's waist tightly, wearing a proud smile as they made their way through the doors of the ball. All eyes were on them as they entered, and Kim Taehyung reveled in the attention. The compliments and adoration thrown their way only fueled his arrogance.

He had it all - money, fame, looks, real estate, and more. But the most important thing to him was his perfect little wife waiting for him at home. Despite his recent avoidance of her, he claimed it wasn't because he had fallen out of love. No, it was something else, something he couldn't quite explain. He knew he would go insane if she ever walked away from his life. There was an addiction, a need that consumed him.

The reason for his distance from his wife was the presence of someone in his den, someone who was interfering with his life. He needed to be careful and find out who it was. He couldn't wait to put an end to their existence for making him stay away from his wife. The thought of shedding blood excited him, and his fingers itched for that feeling of thick liquid on his skin.

He needed to discover the identity of the person spying on him before they found out who his real wife was, the woman he had sworn to protect. There were already three people he and his right-hand man, Jungkook, suspected. He was waiting for them to make a wrong move.

Amidst his thoughts, Jungkook leaned in and whispered to him, his fake smile still plastered on his face. "Mr. Kim, some paparazzi have captured pictures of you and Nova leaving the meeting at Veroza and claim that you were on a date. I believe madame has already seen it."

Anger coursed through his veins, and he clenched his teeth in frustration, but he maintained a forced smile for the onlookers. "Is she at the mansion? Don't let her leave under any circumstances," Taehyung demanded through gritted teeth. He was already on thin ice with his wife, and he knew his recent ignorance towards her had caused her to overthink, especially after what happened in his office earlier. Although a sick part of him enjoyed seeing her jealous and then reassuring her with physical intimacy, he knew he needed to talk to her tonight. However, he wasn't sure if she would believe him if he explained that he was only there for the meeting. His mind was in turmoil.

"Boss, bad news. Madam hasn't returned home," Jungkook began, but before he could finish his sentence, Taehyung angrily stormed out of the ballroom, his eyes burning with rage. Jungkook followed closely behind, and the guests and everyone present witnessed the scene, leaving Nova feeling embarrassed and alone.

​

​....

The two black sports cars raced through the busy streets of Seoul, disregarding traffic lights and causing chaos. Pedestrian officers and even the police were instructed to make way for the racing cars, as orders from higher authorities had come in to ensure their passage. The honking of the cars echoed through the streets, creating a sense of urgency and danger.

"Fucking track my wife this instance!" Taehyung's voice boomed through the earpiece, filled with anger and determination. His eyes burned with a murderous intensity as he accelerated, pushing the car to its limits.

"Jeon, you know what to do to that traitor. I will take care of

the lamb and my wife," he commanded through the earpiece, his voice laced with a deadly tone that instilled fear even in the young man who had worked for Kim Taehyung for many years. Nobody wanted to cross paths with Kim Taehyung if they valued their lives.

.....

​The dark alleyway remained eerily silent, with the cold wind whispering chilling thoughts to anyone who dared to walk through this part of the street. It had gained a reputation as a place where numerous murders had taken place.

"Where's the money?" the tanned, imposing man asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. His red eyes indicated that he had just finished using drugs. The man with the hood scoffed and handed over the envelope containing the money. The tanned man grinned, satisfied that he was about to receive the payment he desired.

Suddenly, eerie and painful screams pierced through the dark alleyway. The tanned man's right hand, which had been intact just moments ago, was now blasted off. He fell to his knees, writhing in pain and clutching his mangled arm. His screams intensified when he saw his fingers scattered on the floor, blood splattered all around. The hooded man stood frozen, unable to move, as he stared at the once-arrogant tanned man now kneeling before him, his right hand obliterated.

An eerie, manic laugh echoed through the alleyway, accompanying the sound of approaching footsteps. The hooded man felt a shiver run down his spine as he turned away from the lifeless body on the ground to see someone in the distance. The figure walked slowly, deliberately, towards them, continuing to chuckle in a dark and unsettling manner. The moonlight briefly illuminated the man's face, causing the hooded man to gasp and step back, only to slip in the dark pool of blood from the tanned man. He found himself face to face with the man's severed arm.

As the figure continued to stalk towards him, the hooded man could hear a deep voice speaking through an earpiece. "Thanks, Jimin hyung. I'll take it from here," the voice said, followed by another chilling laugh directed at the hooded man's terrified expression. The figure crouched down in front of him, a sick smile on his face, and looked down at the lifeless body on the ground. The blood continued to flow from the man's severed arm, creating a macabre image akin to a faucet running.

"You should just mind your own business, young man," the man's deep, menacing voice echoed as he stared at the hooded man with madness in his eyes. The hooded man shook his head, wanting to plead for his life, but no words came out. He was too terrified by this man, this angel-faced monster who had just committed murder and laughed about it.

Before the hooded man could react, a knife sliced through his neck, catching him off guard. He choked on his own blood, desperately clutching his throat as blood gushed out. He tried to scream, but his cries were muffled as the mad man repeatedly pushed the knife into his mouth, silencing him. The man's famous boxy smile widened as he spoke.

"And these eyes too," he said with a sickening smile, proceeding to carve out the hooded man's lifeless eyes. Blood splattered everywhere, but the man only found amusement in the gruesome act. He continued his sadistic torture, chopping off the hooded man's hands, reveling in the pain he inflicted.

Once he was done with his never-ending torment, he stood up, his handsome face twisted with a wide smile. In the distance, a booming sound echoed, as if something had been obliterated in the faraway distance. The man laughed again upon hearing it. His earpiece buzzed, and he heard the voices of Jimin and Jungkook.

"Boss, it's done," they said.

A wide, chilling smile spread across the man's face as his eerie laugh resonated through the eerie alleyway, accompanied by the two lifeless bodies lying before him.

"Now, where are we again?" he asked himself, pretending as if he had done nothing wrong. "Ah, yes, to my beautiful runaway wife," he chuckled. "Time to bring her back home."

He walked away, humming an eerie tune, leaving behind a trail of darkness and terror.

.....

Jungkook and Jimin stood together, watching the burning building as firefighters and police worked to control the fire and keep civilians away. The cries of family members and fans of Nova, who were likely among the victims, filled the air. Jimin casually ate a burger, seemingly unfazed by the tragic scene unfolding before them.

"That man is really crazy for his wife, willing to burn the world and kill for her," Jimin commented between bites. Jungkook scoffed and looked up at the dark sky, now surrounded by thick smoke.

"May heaven help her escape his madness," Jungkook whispered, his voice filled with concern. Jimin overheard and laughed in response.

"I wish the same, but based on what that man has done, he's deeply obsessed with her," Jimin added before groaning and clutching his stomach. Jungkook raised an eyebrow, looking down at Jimin.

"What? Are the dead seeking revenge on you already?" Jungkook mockingly asked, bursting into laughter. Jimin shot him a deadly glare.

"Shut up," Jimin retorted.

After a while, both Jungkook and Jimin decided to leave the scene, leaving behind the aftermath of destruction and tragedy.

.....

Ria sighed sadly as she observed her sleeping friend in bed. Tears stained her cheeks, and her eyelashes were still wet from crying. Ria leaned against the doorframe, worried about her friend's future. She was broken by her husband's betrayal, and it had brought her to a state where she cried herself to sleep.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass interrupted Ria's thoughts, causing her eyes to widen. Was someone breaking into her house? She quickly ran to the kitchen, grabbing a knife and feeling her heart pound with adrenaline. She looked around the dark surroundings, then dashed back to the bedroom where her friend slept.

Locking the door, Ria didn't realize that the intruder would only laugh at the thought that it could stop him from getting what he wanted all along. Yuna stirred in her sleep and groaned as Ria shook her to wake her up. But when Yuna saw the fear on her friend's face, she immediately became uneasy and scared, sensing that something was wrong. Her eyes widened when she noticed the knife in Ria's hand.

Ria shook Yuna's shoulders, trying to get her attention. "There's someone in this house," Ria said, her voice trembling, which only made Yuna clutch the bedsheets tightly.

"What do you mean?" Yuna asked, still bewildered by the situation.

"Hush. There's someone who broke into my house," Ria replied, but before she could finish her sentence, someone banged on the door, causing both of them to scream.

The banging continued, and a scary, deep voice resonated from the other side of the door, a voice that both of them recognized all too well. "Open the door, babe," Taehyung's voice rang out, filled with anger. Yuna looked at Ria, shaking her head in fear. She had witnessed Taehyung's anger before, nearly seeing him beat a man who had flirted with her to the brink of death.

Ria gulped and hugged Yuna tightly, glaring at the door, which was seconds away from being forced open. When it finally burst open, Taehyung stood there, his heaving form and the darkness surrounding him instilling fear in Ria. But she remained strong for her friend, gripping the knife tighter.

Yuna shook her head, afraid to face her furious husband. Ria widened her eyes, finally taking notice of Taehyung's appearance. He was covered in blood, as if he had bathed in it before coming to find his next victim.

"Hand me over my wife now," Taehyung demanded, struggling to control his urge to harm the woman who had influenced his wife to leave him.

Ria stood her ground, gripping the knife tightly. "Stay away from her and leave this place! Or else, I will call the police!" Ria screamed, attempting to scare him away. But a cold fear ran through her spine when Taehyung only laughed and took short steps toward them.

"Busan, at xxx address," Taehyung said blankly, smirking at the terrified female. Ria's eyes widened, filled with horror. No, he wouldn't.

"Oh, I would," Taehyung said, seemingly reading her mind as he chuckled and stopped just an arm's length away from them.

"Don't touch them!" Ria suddenly screamed, causing Yuna to startle and look at Taehyung, making eye contact with him. He smirked, opening his arms as if inviting her to take them, but she shook her head, overwhelmed by fear at his appearance. She felt an urge to vomit.

"Now, wifey, come here, or else more people will be killed today, hm? Let's not make it worse," Taehyung taunted.

Yuna's eyes widened in fear, and she cried out loudly, trembling in terror. This man was a monster. How could he do this?

Ria stood there, paralyzed with fear, accidentally loosening her grip on the knife, which fell to the ground. She looked down in defeat. Her family's lives were on the line, and she felt powerless.

Taehyung saw this as an opportunity and grabbed his wife, who screamed and struggled to break free. Annoyed, he punched her in the face, gripping her hair and punching her again. Yuna lay unconscious after those two punches, and Taehyung sighed, picking her up.

Suddenly, Taehyung stopped in his tracks and looked back at Ria, who had remained quiet throughout the ordeal.

"If I were you, I would stay the fuck away and never come back," he threatened one last time before walking out of the house with a proud smirk on his face.

However, guilt flickered in his eyes when he noticed the bruise on his wife's beautiful face. He sighed again.

"This wouldn't have happened if you had just behaved,"

he mumbled to himself as he placed her in the backseat and drove away, taking his wife back to his cage, waiting for her. He was sure this time he wouldn't let her leave him again. He had gone crazy for a day when she left him, losing control in front of the party and the cameras that captured his every action and shared it with the media and his fans. It was all because of his wife. God, he didn't know what would happen if she managed to escape his grasp.

...

The guards quickly opened the giant gates as they saw the fast-approaching black car racing inside. The car came to a stop and parked perfectly in front of the gold and white mansion. Taehyung stepped out of the car, still dirty and disheveled, but his undeniable handsomeness remained. He ignored the wide-eyed gasps of the maids as he swiftly walked to their room, carrying his still unconscious wife.

After cleaning himself and his wife up, Taehyung stood on the balcony, puffing on his cigarette and closing his eyes. He chuckled at his thoughts, then glanced at his wife and the handcuffs binding her to the bed.

He left the room and made his way to his study, situated in a far corner of the mansion. Sitting down in the chair, he turned on the TV to watch the news about the still-burning building where he had been just hours ago. His name appeared on the screen, along with Nova's picture. He laughed as the reporter offered condolences to him and the woman's family, scoffing at their sympathy. He poured himself a glass of wine, smirking at the situation.

"You can come in," he said, and the people outside the door entered. They marveled at how he could sense their presence even without looking. Well, it was to be expected when there was always a paparazzi tailing him.

"Boss, we successfully eliminated all the people at that event," Jimin said, playing with his gun as he slumped on the couch, closing his eyes. He still felt the pain in his stomach after eating the burger from the event that they had blown up, killing everyone inside. Jungkook sat quietly at the far end of the couch, his face stoic.

...

Taehyung twirled the alcohol in his glass and looked up at the two. "I can see that," he smirked, his gaze shifting to the TV screen still displaying the burning building. The sight brought a creepy smirk to their lips. They had grown just as mad as their boss, even if they didn't admit it.

...

Yuna stirred in her sleep, attempting to soothe her aching jaw. But when she felt restraints on her hands, panic washed over her, and she let out a surprised yell upon realizing her wrists were handcuffed to the bed. "No! What is this?" she exclaimed, tugging on the restraints in a panic. Her fear intensified when a dark, dominating voice filled the room, though she couldn't see its source due to the darkness.

"You really think you can escape from me, my love?" the voice asked, madness swirling in its eyes as it looked at Yuna, his prized possession, who began to cry.

"Since the day you married me, you have become mine, forever tied to me whether you like it or not," the voice continued. It stood up and slowly crawled onto the bed, causing Yuna's panic to escalate. She cried out in fear as the figure loomed over her, kissing her cleavage and neck. It was then that she realized she was only in her undergarments, making her feel vulnerable.

"Stop!" Yuna yelled, but her voice was muffled by the sudden, harsh kiss that silenced her. Her husband devoured her lips as if it was his last.

Yuna spent the entire night crying helplessly as her own husband forced himself on her, claiming it was an act of love and asserting his ownership. But for her, it felt like he was raping her soul. She hated herself for being powerless, unable to stop the repeated assaults. As exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she teetered on the edge of consciousness, she heard him whisper in a dark, chilling tone, "You are mine, forever and ever, and no one can change that." He devoured her lips once more before darkness claimed her completely.

​

[starrylothcat]

If you’re still taking prompts, I’d love to see 12.) “Just lay back and let me take care of you” with Wolffe and an independent female reader who does things on her own and struggles to be vulnerable. I know that’s a lot, so please disregard if it’s too much :)

Look After You

Summary: The burdens of being a war medic are weighing you down, but Wolffe is here to comfort you.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader. No pronouns used.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. PiV sex, cunnilingus, feelings of self-doubt / being overwhelmed / compassion fatigue. Mention of death. A lil’ angsty. Soft Wolffe. Established relationship.

Word Count: 2900

A/N: Ohh thank you for the ask, and it’s def not too much! This became a little personal to me, as compassion fatigue is a large issue in my field of work and something I have experience with. It was the first idea I had for this prompt, so sorry if it’s kind of angsty, haha. I hope this is kind of what you had in mind. I hope you enjoy~

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: I will know you forever.

Ner ca’tra: My night sky

Wolffe let out a long sigh as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching you pour over reports that were splayed across your desk. Wolffe had been standing in your personal quarters for a few minutes now, and you hadn’t noticed.

“It’s time for a break.”

You mumbled something incomprehensible in return, continuing to shuffle through the piles of flimsiplast reports, not paying attention to Wolffe whatsoever.

Your elbow was on your desk, your palm keeping your head up as your tired eyes flicked back and forth between documents.

Wolffe could tell you were stressed, and you have been for the last couple of rotations. You were returning from a difficult campaign on an outer rim planet, and though it was a victory, heavy losses had been sustained. Morale was low on the ship, as it was whenever they returned to Coruscant with less men than they started with.

It hit you especially hard, being a medic for the 104th. You weren’t immune to stress or grief, but you worked efficiently under pressure, not letting your emotions compromise your top-tier medical care when it was needed most.

That’s why Wolffe fell for you in the first place - your endless compassion and sense of duty. Wolffe has watched you save the lives of his brothers, doing everything in your power to give them the chance to fight another day.

Sometimes you worked too hard, Wolffe needing to remind you to rest. You knew you struggled with it, but the thought of being idle meant lives could be at stake.

The war was not stopping, and if you stopped, what were you left with?

These thoughts were troubling you more and more, especially after this mission.

Death was part of the job, you knew that and have fully accepted it. But each death was starting to weigh heavier on your soul, wondering if you could have done more to save them.

You were beginning to doubt your skills, a heaviness on your chest that wouldn’t quite go away.

You wanted to tell Wolffe, but didn’t want to worry him.

He had enough on his plate and didn’t need to be reminded of the losses. At least that’s what you told yourself. You knew Wolffe would want to listen, but you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it.

The only thing you could do was work, and hope that was enough of a distraction until you got back to Coruscant.

Wolffe cleared his throat, trying to get your attention again, but to no avail.

Wolffe knew something deep was troubling you, he’s noticed your change in behavior the last few rotations.

You've barely left your quarters on the Republic light cruiser you were currently stationed on, and your usual organized space was a mess. Half-filled cups of old caf were precariously pushed to the end of your desk, your bed was unmade, and plates from the mess hall stacked on the floor by your door.

Wolffe wished you would give him the chance to help you, or at least admit something was bothering you.

You were so caught up in making sure other’s needs were met, you often forgot about yourself.

Wolffe rolled his eye, having an idea of what was going on. He strode behind you, placing his gloved hands on your hunched shoulders.

You didn’t even flinch, murmuring to yourself and typing at hyperspace speeds on your datapad.

Wolffe gently squeezed and felt your tense muscles instantly relax under his fingertips.

Wolffe lowered his head toward yours, lips brushing against your temple.

“Can you take a break…for me?” He whispered, digging more into your shoulders, eliciting a small groan from you.

Finally, you broke free from your work, turning toward him, snapping out of your concentration.

“Wolffe, I have a lot to do…”

Wolffe grunted in response.

“So do I.”

You couldn’t help the small, pleasured exhale that left your lips as Wolffe continued to release the tension out of your stiff muscles, planting kisses down your neck.

“You need to rest. It’s an order from your Commander.”

You turned to him, and though his tone was stern his eyes held something deep, a glint of tenderness only reserved for you.

You let out a breath, pushing yourself away from your desk.

You stood up, stretching your aching back, feeling bad for ignoring him. You hadn’t even noticed he entered your room, thinking he was going to be busy with his own reports and meetings the rest of the night.

Wolffe wrapped himself around you, holding you close as he gently placed his finger and thumb under your chin, tilting your head up toward him.

“Ner ca’tra…”Wolffe touched his forehead against yours as you melted against him, only calling you that special name when you were truly alone and speaking heart to heart. “What’s on your mind?”

You were silent, biting your lip that was threatening to quiver.

Wolffe had noticed your odd behavior, and knew you couldn’t keep it from him forever.

“It’s just my reports…” You mumbled, not finding the courage to admit what you were really thinking.

Wolffe grunted as you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. He wasn’t wearing the top half of his armor, so his body heat radiated onto you, a comforting feeling.

Wolffe sighed. “I know that’s not what’s bothering you. You can talk to me. If you’re not ready, I understand. But I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Wolffe felt you tremble against him as you gripped the front of his blacks.

You wanted to tell him how tired you were, how burnt out you felt, how you were doubting your skills as a medic and every soldier that died under you care was a failure on your part.

You couldn’t speak, a small sob leaving your lips as you pressed yourself into Wolffe’s chest, gripping the front of his blacks harder.

The hidden emotion was threatening to spill out, the nagging thoughts you usually tried to keep at bay, tucked deep down where it couldn’t affect your work.

Wolffe stayed silent, rubbing your back as you let out another sob, falling apart in his arms. Though Wollfe wasn’t speaking, his silence was loud and clear.

Tell me, it’s okay.

“I…I’m just…tired. Tired of the fighting. Tired of death. Tired of seeing good men die for no reason.” Your words were muffled as you wept, fully crying into his chest. Wolffe rested his chin on your head, still quietly rubbing your back. “I…don’t feel like I’m doing enough. No matter how many lives I save, it doesn’t matter…”

Your voice trailed off, trying to catch your breath as more sobs waited in your throat, hot tears spilling down your cheeks and soaking the front of his blacks.

“I didn’t want to add to your burdens, you’ve already lost so much -

“Never think of your burdens as less than mine.” Wolffe cut you off, speaking finally. He pulled you from his chest, his thumb tracing beneath your now puffy eye, wiping away the tears.

“How many times have you helped me through my weakest moments?”

You had soothed Wolffe through many periods of grief, times where he was so angry, so devestated, he couldn’t speak, only quietly weep in your arms as you held him, just as he was holding you now.

Wolffe was eyeing you intensely, his brows furrowed.

“You’re always helping others. It’s okay to let others help you. You’re worthy of that, ner ca’tra.”

The stoic and battle-hardened Commander then kissed you so tenderly and held you so reverently, you couldn't stop the tears from welling in your eyes once again.

“I am always here for you. You know that.”

You nodded, leaning into his large, warm hand.

“I know, Wolffe. I’m…sorry I kept it from you.”

Wolffe traced his thumb over your lips. “You never need to apologize, not for this.”

Wolffe kissed you again, this time more passionately, his tongue tracing over your lower lip as you released his blacks and brought your arms around his solid neck.

You opened your mouth fully for his tongue to caress your own, both of you emitting a small groan as your mouths danced.

“You always take such good care of me…” Wolffe rumbled against you, desire now bubbling in his good eye, his hands ghosting at the hem of your tunic.

“Just lay back and let me take care of you. Is that okay?”

Wolffe kissed your neck, lightly grazing his canines on your skin. His gloved hands now fully under your tunic, delicately roaming up your torso.

“Yes.”

Wolffe wasted no time walking you backward to your bed. Your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and Wolffe laid you down onto the plush blankets.

Wolffe’s tight blacks highlighted his wide chest and rippling muscle underneath, his biceps flexing as he quickly removed his lower armor.

To anyone else, he would look immensely intimidating as he peered down at you, his cybernetic eye almost glowing as he drank in your form. Though his expression was as serious as a lothwolf, you caught that tender look again as he climbed on top of you. That look that said I’m here, I’m yours.

Wolffe made quick work of removing your tunic and breast band, kissing down your chest, leaving small marks to remind you of him later.

“Relax.” He mumbled into your skin, still feeling how tense you were. “I have you.”

Wolffe’s lips trailed up the side of your breast and he took one of your nipples in his mouth. He gently sucked and rolled your sensitive bud on his tongue, feeling it harden under his careful ministrations.

You whined, breathing out his name, letting him take full control over you.

Wolffe released your nipple with a pop and looked up at you, his singular eye once again filled with such gentleness you blinked back tears.

You moaned softly as Wolffe took your other breast in his mouth, giving it the same lavish attention as the other, alternating between using his teeth and tongue, gently sucking and pulling at the sensitive flesh.

Wolffe could hear your labored breathing quicken as he worked your nipple, one of your hands grasping his cropped hair, warmth spreading between your legs.

Once Wolffe decided both of your breasts received proper treatment, he continued kissing down your stomach, moving down your body as he did so. Wolffe slipped off the bed, kneeling as he carefully pulled your body to the edge of the mattress.

He didn't say anything as he removed your pants and underwear, taking off his gloves and stroking a finger through your slick pussy. You keened and whimpered his name as Wolffe kneaded and massaged your thighs, staring at you intently.

“You've saved the lives of my brothers, and mine, more times than I can count. Never doubt your abilities, cyare.” Wolffe murmured, still caressing your thighs.

“I know it feels like it’s never enough. Wolffe kissed your inner leg, tracing his tongue over the sensitive flesh. “But it is. I promise.”

Your heart swelled at his words, breathy gasps escaping your lips as he gently probed your pussy with his tongue, focused on licking and exploring, knowing exactly what you needed.

“Wolffe…oh…Wolffe…” He slowly licked a stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit, applying perfect pressure as a thick finger slipped into you.

You grasped the bedsheets and bucked your hips as he lazily fucked you with his finger, pressing to the top of your walls to maximize your pleasure.

He increased his pace as he focused his mouth on your soft labia and clit, bringing you to an explosive first orgasm that shook your body, causing more tears to stream down your face.

Wolffe worked you through it, kissing your inner legs again, leaving a warm trail of kisses back up your torso to wipe the tears away before going back down between your legs.

Wolffe continued to take his time warming you up with his fingers and mouth, bringing you to release too many times to count.

Every inch of your body was claimed by him, worshiped by him, your heart ready to burst with every touch.

Your lovemaking was usually intense, not knowing if it was the last time you had together before being apart on missions, but tonight was different.

Wolffe was touching you as if it was your first time, re-learning your curves and dips, slowly drawing ecstasy from your body and leaving you breathless.

Finally, when you were too tired to move, thoroughly blissed by his ministrations, Wolffe quickly stripped himself of his blacks, laying his body on yours. You felt his rigid cock against your thigh, knowing he was probably desperate for his own relief.

You reached down to grasp him, wanting to give him the same amount of attention as he just gave you, but he gently moved your hand away.

“Next time…” he murmured. “This is all about you.”

Wolffe rubbed his cock against your folds, which were thoroughly soaked. “We don’t have to if you’re not feeling-” Wolffe started. You grasped his hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I want to. I want you.” You looked up at him, your eyes begging to have this moment where it’s just the two of you, no one else.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in flush against you. “I'm yours.”

Wolffe was so deep inside you, your vision was blurred and you were delirious with euphoria.

You couldn’t speak, every thrust of his hips punching the breath out of your lungs.

Wolffe was talking to you, guttural saccharine murmurs between his own pleasured groans only meant for you to keep close to your heart.

The ever-strong, stalwart Commander, never showing weakness on the battlefield or in front of his brothers, opened his soul just for you in this powerfully private moment.

It almost overwhelmed you, how much he trusted you. You felt guilty for keeping your feelings from him the past few cycles, but as he ravaged your body so devoutly and thoughtfully you couldn’t linger those thoughts long.

Your final orgasm was quickly approaching, Wolffe’s brutal pace not slowing as he felt you clench around him, knowing you were close.

Your knees were pressed into his chest, his cock plunging impossibly further as his large arms caged you in, his fists digging into the sheets around your head.

Wolffe was watching you intently now, observing how your head was thrown back, your mouth open but unable to make a sound as Wolffe gave you everything he had. “Let go, cyare,” Wolffe grunted above you, his end nearing too, your sweet cries and velvety muscle milking his cock becoming too much.

“Let go. I’m here.”

Wolffe’s messily pressed his lips to yours as you fell over the precipice of pleasure, swallowing your cries as your body shook and toes curled at the unbridled pleasure that overtook your being.

Wolffe’s wild pace did not slow, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as every thrust of his hips sent shockwaves throughout your body.

Feeling and hearing your orgasm sent Wolffe over, growling your name against your swollen lips, his hips stuttering as his cock emptied inside you. His warmth filled you, leaking onto your sheets as he pumped into you with a few final, shallow thrusts, his back muscles tensing and quivering under your palms.

He pressed his face into the side of yours, his heavy breath tickling your skin as he stilled, laying on top of you, careful not to crush you under his weight.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” Wolffe spoke it so quietly, you almost missed it over the sound of your own pounding heart and heavy breathes.

You smiled, repeating back the words, understanding their meaning. You were learning Mando’a from Wolffe, still trying to nail down the correct pronunciations.

Wolffe smirked softly. “Good effort, but you need more practice. I think you told me I was your loving idiot.”

You giggled, feeling lighter now, the burdens of war momentarily forgotten as you lay with Wolffe. “I guess I’ll have to keep saying it.”

Wolffe grunted, a ghost of a rare smile still on his face.

With some effort, Wolffe rolled off of you, your bodies slick with sweat. Leaving you on the bed, he went into your small refresher. You could hear the sound of water being turned on, and he emerged a few moments later, coming back to the bed.

You thought he was going to lay next to you again, but he slid his arms under your legs and torso, effortlessly lifting you up. “Wolffe, what are you…?” You gasped as he nestled you into his arms.

“I’m not done taking care of you, cyare.” He rumbled, striding to the bathroom where the tub was being filled up.

You smiled as he let you down from his arms, stepping onto the cool tile, your legs wobbly from your lovemaking.

“I thought you said you had a lot to do?” You teased as Wolffe stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water.

“I do, but it can wait. You’re more important than reports and meetings, cyare. At least tonight.” Wolffe smirked, his cybernetic eye flashing, gesturing for you to join him.

You stepped into the tub, the hot water relaxing your sore muscles, your mind finally at ease. You faced him, the steam filling the room.

“Thank you.” You muttered, reaching toward him and running your hand over his scar, tracing your fingers under his eye.

Wolffe turned and kissed your palm. “No need.”

You smiled, leaning back against the tub, sitting in comfortable silence. Your previous anxious notions evaporating with the steam rising from the water.

You knew there were tough days still yet to come for both of you, but at least right now, you could forget.

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[mistkisbiggestfan]

heyyyy i just wanted t ask if you could post a part two to white lion i have reread it so many times its totally ok if you are taking a break to work on mental health or would prefer writting stuff you choose this just a silly little request (sorry i there is spelling mistakes my english isnt that good)

Pidge / Reader | White Lion - Complete rewrite - Part I

Rewrite of the fic I still have up on this blog!!

A/n: I'm back?? I think?

Words: 1221

With insomnia nothing’s real, you learn that early on, everything’s far enough to be impossible to reach. Stuck inside an endless loop, a sort of unbreakable cycle. Back then; you were not ready for failure of any kind.

As a White Paladin of Voltron your sole mission was to protect other paladins and people around you. That’s all the White Paladin was, a glorified version of a healing pod, and you hated it. Everyone neglected you, not as a friend of course, but as a valuable fighter and defender of the universe. A medic was what you were made out to be, a brute by nature and a pacifist by force, all you could do was save, even if you tried to charge into battle you were quickly pushed off – back to the sidelines. Allura told you before; each Lion has a unique bond to a specific, and only one, Paladin. Sealed by fate, with no choice, you stayed.

The only one treating you fairly was your lover, Pidge. Both young prodigies, top students of Garrison, with a heart of gold and a particularly sharp and witty comebacks. Made for each other it seemed. They actually appreciated the help they got from you during and out of battle, that was, to your dismay, cut short. As war with Galra raged on, everyone forgot about any other struggles disregarding the threat across the universe.

Soon, Pidge began to share the view about you with other paladins, bit by bit, you realized that now, not a single soul believed in you being anything else but support — You were young, skillful in this specific subject, and rather weak at first glance, but you were more than that, more than what they made you out to be.

Often, on different restless nights, you were left wondering certain things. ‘Am I just a waste to them? Keith already said that, do others agree with him? What does Pidge think?’ All loose questions tied neatly with a string of paranoia and a hint of anxiety building up.  And like that, the overthinking pursued. No one even noticed you staying out of conversations, blindly following orders, no one noticed because it was making everything so much easier. Hunk asked you at times; “Hey Y/N.. you seem quiet lately, everything alright?” But just a few words were enough to shoo him away. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m the White Paladin, remember?” You often said, but you never voiced the rest of this sentence you grew to mutter each day: “The one who is supposed to help.” And Hunk, begrudgingly, let go.

Keith outright believed you were too young and just a nuisance on the battlefield; you suspected he had something against you because you caught onto him and his feelings regarding Lance, as he, himself, wasn’t yet able to face those feelings. The thought that someone knew made him defensive. At least Lance was oblivious enough for this to not be too much of an awkward situation, from what all others knew, besides you it seemed, Lance and Keith hated each other. Or, at very least, strongly disliked each other's presence. At first, before you became a nuisance, your insomnia induced night walks roaming the Castle grounds were often guided by different team members, Shiro eased your mind by comforting, Hunk baked with you, Coran told stories of the White Paladins before you — not many, but still. Allura didn’t have to say a word, as you treasured her camaraderie dearly. Lance made a habit of beauty sleepovers, and even Keith offered you a sparring match from time to time, even though he still argued with others he disliked you greatly. At times like these, you often resided with Pidge. They had a bad habit of staying way up into the night to focus on their work, not from their insomnia, but from a severe case of workaholism.

You liked to walk into their room quietly, your own feet dragging you to their room as you hadn’t even registered. You walked all the way there, sitting down beside them as they worked away on their laptop. Without a word, passing out from exhaustion next to them, feeling safe enough to let go, even if it was only for an hour or two. Waking up tired, but not overwhelmingly lonely and disoriented, as their hand around yours grounded you like an anchor. But what times often do is change. Comfort made you weak enough to believe it’ll last forever, but with a heavy heart you realized — nothing does. Your life hit a rocky path, if it can still do that after getting dragged against your will into an intergalactic war with all hopes resting on you and other bunch of dysfunctional young adults, your insomnia got worse, getting pushed off to the sidelines too.

You were a Paladin, and with an actual bond with a Lion no less, so why were you stuck organizing missions with Allura as Coran talked your ear off? Was it stupid you were jealous of each successful mission, as they came back in glee and the thrill of winning yet another battle? Maybe. Did you still feel through it like an overwhelming blade stuck inside that twisted each time you realized you were just a backup plan? Yes. All you wanted was to prove yourself, you could be useful, really. But each time Shiro said that you’re enough, you felt as if the words hitting your ears were hollow. No one assisted your nightly walks anymore. Pidge was busy. Way more busy than you had ever seen them, there was no comfort in the galaxy you could give them for them to stop their work for even a second. Realizing that leaving them alone was the best thing you could give them, you did just that, and to your small heartbreak, you received no words addressing the fact, no complaints either. Getting as desperate as walking into the training room, in case Keith was staying up late too, you often were met with nothing. Sometimes, Keith was there, but most times your ears were met with sharp yet tired words; “You shouldn’t train this late, a medic shouldn't be half-dead each day.” And with a roll of your eyes, you often walked out.

Sometimes, you stood there a second longer, savoring the meeting, and letting the hatred built up as your mind was screaming: “I’m not just a medic! I’m a Paladin just like you!”. But in the end, you sat in that cold, and now, lonely, room of yours.

Your eyes scanning over the same wall you always faced. Tired gaze raking through the metal, dissecting it into pieces, logic you couldn’t grasp. At times like this, moments before shutting off from complete exhaustion, even you had no idea how to comprehend the drive that was pushing you at such times.

Maybe tomorrow, it’ll all make sense. Maybe tomorrow won’t be just a copy of today, which was just a copy of yesterday.

At least, tomorrow, you’ll finally go on a mission, after this whole time, which felt like eternity and a second, all too far to understand and grasp. With that thought, you had no idea what came next, as your exhausted body hit the bed.

You passed out.

Again.

[krispdreemurr]

oh oh i have an interesting discussion/query ! what do u think the meta purpose of making kris act like they do at the end of chapter 1 was? specifically like the imagery of a kid in a green/yellow shirt manipulating a red soul, pulling out a knife, having red eyes and grinning evilly cause like... i feel like deltarune definitely incorporates the memory of undertale throughout? like its advertised as a game for people who finished undertale and theres lots of references and things that are only as impactful if you had an emotional connection to the original game, like spamton neo and gaster saying "have you been looking for me?" and just.. so many things but most interestingly imo being that ralsei almost comes across like a fanonized "cinnamon roll" version of asriel that was so popular way back when? ofc he's more than that but thats like. a Part of him anyways what i mean is like, when chapter 1 released many people (myself included) saw that and instantly assumed that kris was being controlled by chara because of how strongly chara-esque (*especially* to the fandom, like ralsei) the imagery was, only for chapter 2 to come out and many people (myself included^2) completely disregarded chara as having any bearing on the story whatsoever and that kris is just themself trying *not* to be controlled by us. i think we can all agree that the latter is correct, and some people were clearly smarter than me in chapter 1 and deduced the truth even then (e.g. lynxgriffin in their comics), but i am left wondering what the point of that was almost? i thought you might have some interesting thoughts on that, cause like, if kris's frustration with the player is essentially the main plot of the game (give or take), the allusion to chara was a little bit 'distracting' for the fandom i feel like? some ppl are (somehow) still confused & blaming chara even! i guess im just wondering, what if kris had wore a different shirt and menaced the player in a different way at the end of chapter 1? do you think it would have improved the story to eliminate the possibility of confusion, or do u reckon toby fox want us confused? idk LMAO just thinking aloud atp. just been on my mind the past few days bc in retrospect, while the intro to deltarune is obviously trying to trick you into believing this is "undertale 2", post-dark-world the game is unambiguously super different, to the point where it feels a little bizarre that there'd be a red herring *after* deltarune already smashed the notion that it's a prequel or sequel into pieces doesnt it?

i think it's most legible to me as an attempt by Kris to psych us out that they sort of get lucky with thanks to toby helping them!

like, obviously they have no way to know you've been menaced by nonbinary children before - the specific parallels aren't a thing they're reaching for. but they're trying to get the player freaked out, and toby sort of lends them a helping hand by making them coincidentally charalike.

it's not the first time he's had a character freak us out with knowledge they don't have (thinking about sans and the talking flower in grillbys), and it's not the first time in Deltarune alone where a parallel is arguably sheer coincidence in world but happens to echo something to the player. i don't think it's like cheap or anything - toby fox does a really good job building up a language of associations and connections and motifs and then sometimes uses that to trick you just the tiniest bit lmao

but just like Chara, the ways to see thru the trick are there if you're looking. if you pay attention to Chara, you learn their oh so ominous faces and scares were originally just a thing they did to have fun with their brother, and maybe you get an appreciation that they were a child trying to scare you in childish ways. similarly, if you talk to everyone in town, you learn that Kris is a prankster by nature who delights in freaking everyone out (and also someone who would eat an entire midnight pie), and maybe you get the chance to go "oh, they're pranking me, huh?"

a little like Chara, Deltarune ch1 uses Kris to ask if you've been paying attention to the material. did you notice this really, really wasn't Undertale? and if you did, what conclusion do you reach about this new kid?

[princelylove]

Hello Your Highness!

I was wondering, since Leone is completely obsessed with his darling, if there’s any time he’s completely unhinged and feral in bed? Like maybe darling does something that just… hits different and he can’t control himself on the spot? Would that lead to sexual advances?

Leone, Leone. He's so cute.

He's dominantly a 'I need to keep my hands to myself or everything is going to go wrong and they're going to hate me and oh god I'm not enough anyway what the hell am I doing' type. He doesn't really ever make those sort of advances, even when he's intoxicated.

Leone is often passive. Which is amusing, because of how aggressive he can be when pushed. It's different with his darling. Leone rarely initiates things- he wants to do whatever you want to do. You own his heart. His soul.

He's kind of just praying silently that you're going to touch him eventually. Consent matters. Never mind the fact that Leone is bordering on free use for his darling- begging to be manhandled, begging to be groped, begging to be touched at all- Leone would never even briefly consider making a physical move on his darling just because you're driving him insane. That's his problem.

Sometimes you'll say something so adorable that he has to turn his head away to scrunch up his face. It's normally accompanied by a sharp "Hm!" sound. He's lucky he uses such a high coverage foundation. He gets pretty bad cuteness aggression, but he has a surprising amount of self control about it. It's admirable, really.

For someone as indulgent as him, you'd think he'd fight urges related to his darling constantly, but Leone isn't the type of person to pounce on his darling the second he gets the chance. He'd never. He's a bad man, but he's not a predator. He loves you so much that wronging you is worse than actual moral wrongdoings.

. . . But he is a creep. Your possessions aren't safe from his urges. Any damning evidence is taken care of accordingly. He's so diligent, isn't he? Doesn't he clean so well? Praise him.

Leone getting hard because his darling is just so perfect and gorgeous and adorable is so common that I couldn't actually specify. He just takes care of it himself in privacy. Again, not your problem.

You know what, though? Sex is different.

He has some things he goes crazy for when he's submitting. Direct eye contact, praising him, treating him like a human dildo and disregarding what he can and can't take, pretty average things for a man like him. Leone is the type of yandere to become so obsessed with his darling that all sexual behavior is addictive- he just wants you.

He has his kinks and fetishes, sure, but the thing that's really doing it for him is that it's you. The love of his life. Leone can't get enough of his darling, he's pleased with whatever they want to do, it's quality time! If you prefer the Leone that opens his legs and moans like a very well paid whore, that's the Leone that you're going to get.

I tend to see him as very submissive, but he is capable of being dominant. It's just not something he thought he'd ever do. I mean, look at him. His face is screaming 'please touch me please touch me please touch me.' Leone- frankly- doesn't think it's ever going to be an option until he falls in love.

Topping is one thing, and actually dominating a partner is another. Topping comes naturally to him, and it's not like he hasn't had partners over the years. Although, that doesn't mean he's going to do it in the way you like it without some coaching. It's been quite some time. Leone has no idea what to do with pacing, how hard he's supposed to be going, if it even feels good- he likes it rough for him, he'd rather his darling just shove themself inside him and disregard his feelings entirely, use him, break him- but his darling..... they're so precious that he can't bring himself to go buck wild right off the bat.

It takes him a little while to learn, but Leone will eventually settle into a pace that pleases his darling. His only goal is their pleasure.

But, that's a lie. Leone enjoys dominating just as much as he enjoys submitting, he's just quicker to offer his own body. Domination can be very fun, Leone isn't a stranger to biting a partner's ear lobe out of fondness.

Leone tends to think of dominating someone in the way he thought of restraining criminals- you show you're the boss by physically intimidating them, restraining them, generally just using force when they're out of control. He doesn't know how to be gentle initially, but he'll get there. He wants to treat his darling gently, but he's like a dog that was left outside all day and finally someone stopped to play with him.

Leone has the opposite demeanor when he's tasked with dominating. Slow and firm, Leone takes his time with his darling's body and doesn't bend his knee in the slightest. You can't rush him, as much as he'd like to obey your every whim. He can't act as excited about it as he wants to, otherwise he'll lose the mindset and risk giving his darling the ick, so he temporarily slips into his old, mean self. He's not particularly a sadist, he takes no pleasure in degrading his darling or hurting them, but a little teasing is fair game.

Leone is quite a big man. It's not like he just forgot how to use his size from years of hiding in corners to avoid being in his darling's way. Using his size to his advantage is common sense when attempting to dominate his darling, he can pin a smaller darling in place and refuse to move until they say what he wants, he can hold them up against a wall so they have to look at him, he could even just drop his body weight on top of them for a not-so-nice little reminder about things being on his terms.

He's selfish, you know. He'll beg for more when it's obviously not an option. It's not like he deserves it, but he wants it. Indulge him. Please. Please?

Funny for a man that gives the second you suggest you want it. Leone's teasing is usually with actual penetration, and sometimes (All the time) his words. It's not his fault you look perfect with it against you. Leone is very speech heavy when he dominates- he rarely stops talking, partially to keep himself in the mindset and partially because he just can't stop, even if he wanted to. It just won't stop pouring out of his mouth. He loves you, you're taking it so well, he had no idea you were more eager than he was, did he mention he loves you?

So what does Leone go crazy for when he's in a more dominant mood?

He's a smells kind of person. His darling's natural scent- whatever's under all of that soap and perfume- is addictive. Of course, your soap and perfume are fantastic- but they smell different on other people. He can spray your perfume on his pillows and your dirty laundry all he wants, it's not the same as when it's actually on you.

He loves when his darling says his name. Even in casual conversation- it's the best way to get him to break character from his grumpy act and look your way. A sharp Leone will have him turn his head and cross his legs.

Declarations of love and praise really do it for him. Nothing drives Leone wild like praise and feeling like his darling loves him. Do I really need to elaborate on the attention whore wanting to be loved and praised?

A good look at your figure doesn't hurt, either. It doesn't always have to be skin, but Leone loves shape.

I don't think I answered your question. Oops.

[elijahs-dumps]

HUSKERDUST IS AMAZING!!! ... sort of

Okay, so, Hazbin Hotel. Obviously HUGE SPOILER WARNING ahead, but this show was fantastic! I've been a fan of Vivziepop's work for a while now, and even though I don't really enjoy Helluva Boss, I was really looking forward to Hazbin for many years. However, just because you really enjoyed something doesn't mean you can't acknowledge its flaws. And in a show with as many pacing issues as Hazbin, where do you even begin? Well, my personal main issue with the show was Huskerdust. Not because the ship isn't likeable, it's simply because most of what I didn't like about the show can link back to these two characters and their dynamic. So I guess I'm using them as my Trojan's horse in a way!

Huskerdust, which is the ship name between Husk and Angel Dust, is one of the main romances within Hazbin Hotel. Vivzie told us it would be a slow burn pretty early on, but honestly I think this ship is one of the fastest slow burns known to man. I mean, they had a cutesy little duet where they danced together in the fourth episode! This is tied to an underlying issue with the show's pacing all together. If Hazbin had more episodes like it should've, I think this "slow burn" concept would've worked better. Considering the fact we only had episodes, and the two characters still haven't really "confessed" or kissed yet, I suppose you could call it whatever you want to really.

The two characters and their dynamic is set up very early on, even in the pilot. It'll usually go something like, Angel will target Husk because he's the only one Angel can get a reaction out of in the hotel. Angel will do anything from making an innuendo, to literally sexually harassing Husk. And naturally, Husk will get frustrated because Angel is pushing his boundaries. Do I think it's weird that a show which talks about SA still uses sexual harassment as the butt of its jokes? Yeah, I think it's super weird and a little insensitive. But it's not my place to comment on such matters because I'm not properly educated, so I'm just gonna brush over it for now. It just makes this ship a little tough to swallow for me, considering Angel's blatant disregard for Husk's feelings.

However, even though Husk is the only one Angel can toy with at the hotel, Husk is also the only one who "sees through" Angel and the fake persona he uses as a means to cope and protect himself. This creates conflict, because Husk will call Angel out when Angel pushes his buttons, and Angel will get defensive and lash out. We see this in episode four; Masquerade. After a bad "shoot" with Valentino, Angel comes back to the hotel and gets into an argument with Husk which causes him to storm out. Charlie and Vaggie send Husk after him, and Husk finds Angel at a dive bar of some kind (I think).

Before we continue with Huskerdust, I've got something major I need to get off my chest about this episode. If Charlie is so "madly powerful' like Lucifer, and she knows Angel is being mistreated by Val, why can't she free Angel from his contract? Or at least try to talk to Angel about his situation after this episode? Maybe she did, and we just didn't see it because of the five-month-long time skip (which is another problem with this show's pacing), or maybe soul contracts work outside of angelic power. But I feel like it would've been nice if they told us that Charlie tried to help Angel more, just for my own peace of mind. Because to me, I just felt like Husk and Charlie brushed off the reality of Angel's situation very easily, regardless of that the fact that they're in Hell or not. I get that shitty things probably happen in Hell all the time, but c'mon!

Speaking of Charlie, this show does an awful lot of telling when it comes to Charlie's issues and not a lot of showing, Her "daddy issues" are one example of this, but right now I'm talking about how the characters often mention that Charlie solves everyone's problems to avoid her own. I thought this could be a interesting character flaw in hindsight, because wanting to solve everyone's problems for them can lead to a lot of boundaries being pushed, and character conflict arising. I was a bit surprised when Charlie immediately left the studio after Angel yelled at her, and seemed to handle is extremely maturely. She even goes as far as to blame what happened on herself when it was clearly Valentino's fault. While I think it's cool that Charlie handled everything so well, I also would've liked to see her struggle with this a little more. I think the concept of Charlie not knowing when to back off could be a good opportunity for some actual growth from her, instead of her development or growth just being explained to us every episode. Unfortunately though, Hazbin clearly didn't have the time for this kind of character work because the show is so plot heavy.

Back to the ship, once Husk finds Angel the two sing a song called Loser, Baby. Which is basically Husk trying to cheer Angel up and get him to stop self-loathing so much. I'll get a little personal for a minute and say if I was Angel this would not have worked on me at all. While I do think Angel has some self-hatred problems, his issues clearly run so much deeper than that. However, this was obviously just the first step in Angel's long road to healing I suppose, considering he only opened up to Husk so much. That being said, it's not like we even get to see Angel heal or develop further because of the time skip. Something else that rubbed me the wrong way with this whole scene was how Husk tried to relate to Angel by speaking about his own experience with Alastor. We find out that Husk used to be an Overlord, and that he lost his soul to Alastor in some kind of bet or card game. Alastor is one of our main characters, and they really put him up side by side with Valentino, out of the blue like that, like... Let's all think logically for a minute. This, combined with that one scene from episode five, made me like Alastor a little less. I understand that Alastor is sick and twisted, he's completely and undeniably evil. But seeing how his actions directly affect another member of our main cast was really off putting, and it put such a huge damper on this "found family" energy that Hazbin Hotel was clearly was aiming for.

Oh, and remember when I mentioned Valentino? Yeah, he's not safe either. I didn't even think twice about this character until one of my friends told me Val was their favorite character. It made me look back on all his scenes, and I realized something. He's actually really funny, and pretty entertaining to watch. Even the way he talks about Angel Dust when Angel Dust isn't present is played for the laughs. If anything, the way Val acted in episode four was a complete 180 from episode two. I thought this was a questionable writing choice, I'll be honest. Why would you purposefully write this character to be almost likeable to a certain extent, only to have him commit inexcusable crimes in the next episode. Look, if you're a Valentino fan, good for you. I'm not going to tell anyone not to like a certain character, because that's just not fair. I just personally disagree with the way Val was written. I think trying to paint Val as if he's just like every other character on this show whenever he's not actively abusing Angel really diminishes Angel's suffering from a viewer perspective.

I also feel like episode four kind of dug it's own grave in a sense, regardless of anything I've said so far. Because this episode is entirely about Angel Dust, he obviously gains development and growth from it. And in a show like Hazbin, with poor pacing and not enough time to flesh out characters, Angel's current development now sets him apart from anybody else in the entire series. Now even Charlie, the main character, seems one dimensional when compared to Angel Dust.

Circling back to Huskerdust again, I should probably acknowledge that Husk and Angel never even got another real one-on-one interaction after this episode for the rest of the show! Except for a really small one in episode six. But they literally exchange like three sentences, and about four or five months have passed between episode four and six, so do with that what you will. Not to mention, Husk refers to Angel as “kid” in one of these sentences. While I do think the age gap between Angel and Husk is strange, I feel like it’s easily defendable. I’m sure once Husk and Angel actually become a couple, Husk will stop calling Angel a kid. And we all know Angel isn’t a legal minor by any means. I don’t think it was necessary for the story though, and the two easily could’ve been made closer in age so this ship wouldn’t seem as… peculiar. Let's also remind ourselves that Huskerdust somehow has more substance than the main pre-existing couple. Yet again, this is just a side effect of "too much to do, not enough time to do it". But we will save the Chaggie discussion for another day...

So, do any of these things make Huskerdust bad? No, not in my opinion, at least. I'm still rooting for this ship no matter what, and I will personally be storming Prime Video HQ if they don't become canon next season. I think all ships and shows have their own problems, and for whatever reason the problems within Hazbin Hotel stood out to me more than I was expecting. Still, I did enjoy this show a lot. I might even do another post about it soon. And I'll definitely be counting down the days until season two drops!