#fear of finny things

[xxplastic-cubexx]

still thinking of my fave marvel rivals interaction where my jeff and i were hanging on the point after knocking out the other team and lil bro sprays the space in front of me and emotes and we both said thank you at the same time like i fear im never forgetting that ever

[faultedloyalty]

The speed in which he has to turn his amusement into faux-apology cannot be understated; though the way in which the young man’s reactions serve only to further bring him closer to something like elation cannot be, either! Perhaps it’s merely his age, but from their severity to their depths, he finds that his baser urges to toy with those lesser than himself are growing. They are, of course, overwhelmingly easy to keep at bay—he has practiced, he has lived, too long to be any other way—but the fact that he has to acknowledge them at all on his own is exceedingly rare.

Not that he is one to ignore his own whims, either, however.

“So many apologies you need not make; truly, just what kind of butler am I?” Another melodramatic sigh, another shake of his head, follows in the wake of his own bastard-conceived plot and results. “Though I must apologize once more, myself, for inadvertently insulting your acquaintances.” For if they are neither friends nor anyone he considers worthy of such a word... “I meant no harm, of course, but I fear I spoke too impulsively. Such is a failing of my own, unfortunately—

“I must admit that I do take heart in knowing you bear confidence-enough to correct me, however.”

For that, too, was amusing in and of itself—despite the irresolute clamber in which young Daisuke speaks his words, the fact that he speaks them at all is enough to make him want to chuckle. Companionship was of no use to himself, but the lengths in which those who find it so go to have others speak no ill-will of them, even when it was unsure, served to interestingly confuse him always.

“It is quite clear that they are of great import to you,” he continues on easily, belying his thoughts, “in spite of how little you know of them personally. Does not speaking of them in such a way also speak in turn, however, not just to their skills but to what skills they have imparted to you, as well?”

Even if mere beginner-work from another teenager, knowledge would forever be knowledge; “To gain any sort of understanding over the simplest of details is enough to learn the complex natures of this world, after all. One might argue that this is needed to do so, as what one might think of as a basis—though I dare not do so in my position, of course.”

(His position for the moment, at least, but there was little need to fret over frivolous details such as those, right then. He merely needs them known, still.)

“Special qualities or lack thereof aside, as well—and so long as I am permitted to say so—at the very least I find myself thrilled to find your art of quite the noticeable talent, already.”

And there he goes to demonstrate—flipping through pages quickly, though keeping a thumb on the one he had scribbled on himself, with that self-satisfied smile! He doesn’t go far, and he isn’t even looking at it, but even this serves more to try for a reaction than anything else!

“It is clear that you don’t lack an eye for details,” he speaks as the pages turn, as casually as if he were discussing the weather, “and neither is there lack of intent behind your work! Really, this is more than enough to warrant an impart of your knowledge to myself, as the less-experienced artist, but I suppose...”

Just as quickly as he’d begun flipping through pages does he close them back up, keeping only the one he’d utilized himself open for the book’s owner to see. In the same breath, he holds it back out for the young man; silent encouragement that he is to, finally, take his own look at what Sebastian had done.

“Relieving as it is to hear that my work shan’t be considered by one who is, at heart, ‘really mean’, I do urge you to give your most honest opinion. Shall my skills be lacking, I will endeavour to improve as quickly as I am able.”

Though he can already guess a few ways this is about to go—but he’s curious to see which of them will occur, as well, so there’s no need to continue stalling.

' i-infamy ?! '

the word seems to instantly jolt him . close to hives , his skin prickling , every thin hair on his arm swift to stand up straight on end . a word like infamy ... was really bad , wasn't it ?! ( like horrible , like heinuous , like --- dark . )

' n-no ! it's not like that or anything ! like hiwatari-kun and sagami-sensei , i mean --- er , u-um ... ' would someone like sebastian have been able to recognize any of these names ? arrive , vanish , do everything in a blink and leave nary so much as a single trace behind --- his family had instructed him over and over to be capable of severing any sort of loose strings in the midst of plotted , robbing act .

( why dare to admire his enemies , anyways ? )

was it too simple , too laughable , that just because he wanted to think they were friends ... no , that because he just wanted to somehow be friends them , that he should have therefore made every effort to be kind , and speak up in their defense ? even knowing that they might never have done the same for him , or for his far more rotten , wretched parts .

' t-they're not that bad , i mean ... i don't think infamous is a good word for them ... ' though , maybe and maybe not . before the hikari alone , what other artists played god , to the extent that their creations came to life out of nothing but the meager likes of stone , paint and wax ? man's first golems and homonculi , created in the perverse shape of themselves : both infinitely beautiful and hideous .

their broach of every natural law and order could have lent itself to their infamy , if only what vicious storms of emotion surrounding their works didn't coil about them like the still , untouchable calm of an eye of a storm . and there , braving the cuts and razor , racing edge of the roughest winds , was the black half of the kokuyoku ... what black wings even now remained bound to his body .

' ... i'm sorry . ' trailing away , clutching to himself at his hands , daisuke's will shrinks and relents , wilting meekly beneath the other's blase accusations . certainly , he feels every invisible pressure like a block of lead , hitching his shoulders high in a hopeless defense against what felt like , polite and composed as it was , an adult's chide .

' i don't ... actually know if i'm really friends with any of them . i only sort of know them , so i didn't think anything was that interesting to talk about --- um , hiwatari-kun is the same age as me , and he's the one who comes from a really family . the hikari ? their artworks always end up in museums and stuff , they've been making masterpieces for over four hundred years . i've only really learned a few things about ... um , shadows and circles from him , though ... '

embarrassing basics that anyone , even a toddler should have been able to comprehend .

' sagami-sensei was a sculptor , and someone who won top prizes every year in azumano ... our standards for art are the highest in japan , so it was a big deal when he was going to start teaching part-time . but then he quit right after his practice internship and decided to go back to art --- ' cheeks flush and he laughs ; he doesn't dare to pry at sebastian's turn , deeply curious as he remained to the other's work . ' he was really cool . he always seemed to know what he was doing when he was making art , hiwatari-kun too , i think . i'm not really anything special , especially compared to them ... '

humility blends in warmly with a loitering sense of shame .

' really --- really-really , i don't think i could give you good advice or critiques even if i tried . not to mention , since i was the one who asked you to draw something for me in the first place , if i were to suddenly get all nit-picky or something over it when i probably couldn't do any better , i'd feel ... um , really mean . '

[ggwritesstuff]

hey!! Could you do a fic with finnick odair where r was in the blood rain during the quarter quell and is really shook up from it and finnick helps her clean up and calm down? Thanks!!!

Here Now, Here Always.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: the quarter quell blood rain, brief discussions of trauma, mostly just some finn comfort, not totally proofread

a/n: anon!! thank u so much this took me out of my writing drought :,) i made a few tweaks to the original idea but i hope u still enjoy <3

a/n pt 2: please forgive my formatting if it’s awful i haven’t had to format a post on here in a LOOONG time

It’s been years since the Quarter Quell where the blood rain incident occurred. Caught in the middle of the forest as a viscous, crimson red rained down on you; flooding the divots and lapses in the ground around you and pooling up to your calves in some areas. If it weren’t for Finnick, you would have been another victor turned fallen tribute in the sky that night. The onslaught of blood could’ve flooded and drowned you where you stood with how paralyzed your fear had rendered you. But Finnick, ever the heroic type, came to your rescue. Dodging puddles with every careful step until he reached you, hauling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the shore where he cleaned you up and calmed you down.

The rest was history. You had left that arena with Finnick who has hardly left your side since. However, you also left with the horrific image of your lover drenched in that blood rain. It still haunts you to this day. Especially when it’s raining, like it is tonight.

You’d been tossing and turning for the last hour, the drizzle against yours and Finnick’s bedroom window keeping you awake, plaguing your tired mind with the memories of that day. You felt silly being kept awake by it, unable to relax. You knew that logically, of course it was a normal rainfall. However, trauma doesn’t care much for logic. So you fumbled around in bed for what felt like hours until you felt Finnick’s side of the bed move a bit as he turned to face you.

“You okay, hon?” He asked, his voice soft yet still gruff with sleep. His large, calloused hand reached for your face, landing gently on your cheek as he stroked it with his thumb. You nodded silently to his question, and though his eyes were still bleary he could feel the motion you made.

“Rain keepin’ you up?” You nodded again. Finnick then moved to pull you closer, bringing your back flush to his chest, “S’okay, m’right here sweetheart.” He mumbled sleepily, snaking a strong arm under yours and around your waist. He was so warm against you, your own personal furnace as you’ve called him before. A personal armory of weapons couldn’t make you feel safer than you do with Finnick.

The rain continued to beat against the bedroom window, only now your eyelids were finally growing tired as you were wrapped in Finnick’s protective embrace. He was there during the blood rain. He was there for every rainfall since, comforting and assuring you that you were safe. He’s here now, and he always will be.

“Love you, Finny.” You whispered, intertwining your fingers with his own and bringing his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the warm, ever tanned skin.

“Love you more, dear.” He whispered back, the feeling of his lips against the soft skin of your neck the last thing you feel before finally falling asleep.

[rudyking]

Manly Man:

JJ's son, Auggie gets his first chest hair and declares himself to officially be a man- much to JJ's slight dismay.

JJ prided himself on many things: his ability to navigate the Outer Banks’ backwaters like a dolphin on loan, his uncanny knack for finding the ripest mangoes at the local farmer’s market, and, most importantly, his unwavering coolness as a father. He was JJ, after all, the dad who let Auggie stay up late for meteor showers, who taught him to surf before he could properly tie his shoes, and who always had a stash of pirate treasure (chocolate coins, mostly) hidden somewhere around their little beach cottage.

But lately, a creeping sense of unease, thick and sticky like humidity before a summer storm, had settled over JJ. It started subtly – Auggie’s voice deepening, his limbs stretching out like he was auditioning for a contortionist act, and then… the chest hair.

It wasn’t much, just a few wispy, pale blonde strands, barely visible without squinting. But to Auggie, it was the equivalent of Excalibur rising from the lake. He’d burst into the kitchen that morning, chest puffed out, a goofy grin splitting his face, declaring, “Dad! Look! I’m a man now!”

JJ, mid-scramble of eggs, almost dropped the pan. He’d blinked, stared, and then forced a laugh that sounded more like a strangled seagull. “A man, huh? Well, you still need to clear your plate, Man-gusta.”

Auggie, oblivious or perhaps choosing to ignore the underlying tremor in his father's voice, preened. He’d spent the rest of the day strutting around like a miniature John Wayne, flexing his non-existent biceps, and referring to himself in the third person as “The Man.”

Yn, JJ’s incredibly patient and insightful partner, just smiled knowingly. “He’s growing up, JJ,” she’d said, her voice gentle as the ocean breeze.

“I know, I know,” JJ mumbled, but inside, a tiny, petulant child was stamping his foot. Growing up? Auggie? His Auggie, who still sometimes slept with his battered stuffed dolphin, Finny? No way. Absolutely not.

Later that evening, armed with lukewarm beer and a bag of stale chips, JJ found Pope and John B perched on the porch swing. The salty air hummed with cicadas, and the sky was turning a bruised purple.

“Boys,” JJ began, his voice low and conspiratorial, “we have a situation.”

Pope, ever the voice of reason, raised an eyebrow. “Did you finally max out your credit card on fishing lures again?”

“Worse,” JJ groaned, dramatically. “Auggie thinks he’s a man.”

John B choked on his chip, spraying crumbs across Pope’s meticulously clean shoes. “What? What are you talking about? He’s like, what, eleven?”

“Eleven and a half!” JJ corrected, then elaborated, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and panic. “He’s got chest hair. Tiny, practically invisible chest hair, but chest hair nonetheless! He’s calling himself ‘The Man’. It’s a crisis!”

Pope sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “JJ, kids grow up. It’s kinda their thing.”

“But not my kid!” JJ protested, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Not yet! He’s still my little dude, my sidekick, my… my baby!” The last word slipped out, a vulnerable whisper that even surprised JJ himself.

John B, surprisingly insightful for someone who once tried to pay for groceries with seashells, leaned forward. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

JJ scoffed, but his eyes betrayed him. “Scared? Please. I laugh in the face of fear. I wrestle alligators for fun. I… I just don’t want him to grow up without me. You know?” He struggled to articulate the swirling mess of emotions inside him. It wasn’t about stopping Auggie from growing, it was about the fear that growing up would mean growing away from him. That the shared pirate adventures and late-night talks under the stars would fade, replaced by… whatever teenagers did these days. Probably brooding and listening to angsty music, JJ imagined with a shudder.

Pope, ever the practical one, patted JJ’s shoulder. “Look, we get it. But trying to convince Auggie he’s still a baby? That’s going to backfire spectacularly.”

“Exactly!” John B chimed in, his eyes gleaming with mischievous excitement. “That’s what makes it fun! Operation: De-Man Auggie! We’re in!”

JJ grinned, his rebellious spirit momentarily overriding his parental anxiety. “Alright, boys, let’s show ‘The Man’ what being a boy is really all about.”

Their first attempt was during their regular Saturday morning surf session. JJ, Pope, and John B, feigning exaggerated gasps and wide-eyed admiration, kept referring to Auggie as “Little Guy,” “Tiny Tot,” and “Our Precious Cargo.”

“Wow, Little Guy, you almost caught that wave!” JJ exclaimed, ruffling Auggie’s shaggy blonde hair a little too forcefully. “Just like a tiny, adorable… guppy!”

Auggie, initially confused, soon caught on. He glared at JJ, blue eyes narrowing. “Dad, I’m not a guppy! I’m a… a wave rider!” He puffed out his chest again, unknowingly emphasizing those phantom chest hairs.

John B, never one for subtlety, added, “Yeah, a wave rider… of kiddie pools!”

Auggie’s face flushed crimson. He paddled away furiously, catching a wave and actually riding it quite impressively. He shot JJ a triumphant look as he returned to shore. Point: Auggie.

Next, they tried appealing to Auggie’s playful side. That afternoon, they “accidentally” stumbled upon a mud puddle of epic proportions in the woods behind their house. The plan was to tempt Auggie into a good old-fashioned mud fight, hoping it would remind him of simpler, messier, boyish times.

“Look at this, Auggie!” JJ yelled, already knee-deep in the mud, throwing handfuls at Pope and John B, who were gamely retaliating. “Mud wrestling! Manliest sport ever!” he added with forced bravado.

Auggie watched them, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. “You guys look like pigs,” he said dryly. “And that’s not manly, that’s just… dirty.” He then proceeded to pull out his phone and start recording them, snickering as Pope slipped and landed face-first in the mud.

“Come on, Auggie, lighten up!” JJ pleaded, covered head-to-toe in muck. “It’s fun! Remember when we used to do this all the time?”

“Yeah, when I was five,” Auggie retorted, still filming their muddy escapades. Point: Auggie, again.

The final, and arguably most ill-conceived, attempt was at dinner. JJ decided to baby-talk Auggie, complete with exaggerated cooing and silly faces. Yn, who had been quietly observing the escalating chaos all day, nearly choked on her water.

“Who’s my wittle munchkin?” JJ gurgled, pinching Auggie’s cheek. “Yes you are! Yes you are! Does wittle munchkin want some peasies?”

Auggie stared at him, his dimples deepening not with laughter, but with a mixture of embarrassment and something JJ couldn’t quite decipher. He pushed his plate away. “Dad, stop it. You’re being weird.”

“Weirdly loving!” JJ insisted, winking at John B and Pope, who were desperately trying to stifle their laughter.

“No, just weird,” Auggie said firmly, getting up from the table. “I’m going to my room.”

JJ watched him go, the playful energy draining out of him. He looked at Yn, his usual smart-alecky grin replaced with a genuine pang of hurt.

Yn sighed, getting up to clear the table. “You know, JJ, sometimes the best way to keep them close is to let them go.”

He frowned, confused. “But… but I don’t want him to go!”

Yn sat down beside him, taking his hand. “He’s not going anywhere, JJ. He’s just growing. And you know what? That’s amazing. Remember when you got your first chest hair?” she teased, a playful glint in her eye.

JJ actually blushed. He did remember. The awkward pride, the secret glances in the mirror, the feeling of… change. He’d been so focused on his fear, he’d completely forgotten about Auggie’s excitement.

He went to Auggie’s room, knocking softly. “Hey, buddy? Can I come in?”

Auggie mumbled a yes. JJ found him sitting on his bed, Finny the dolphin clutched in his arms. He sat down beside him.

“Look, Auggie,” JJ began, his voice sincere, “I’m sorry. I was being… a goofball.”

Auggie looked up, his blue eyes still holding a hint of hurt. “You were being really embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I know. I just… I guess I got a little freaked out when you said you were a man.”

“But I am!” Auggie protested, pointing to his barely-there chest hair.

JJ chuckled, putting his arm around his son. “Well, maybe not quite a man yet. But you’re definitely growing up. And you know what? That’s pretty cool.”

Auggie looked at him, his expression softening. “Really?”

“Really,” JJ confirmed. “And you know what else is cool? Getting to watch you grow. It might be a little scary for your old man,” he admitted with a rueful smile, “but it’s also the best thing in the world.”

Auggie leaned into his father’s side. “I still like hanging out with you, Dad.”

“I still like hanging out with you too, buddy,” JJ said, squeezing him tight. “Even if you are becoming a ‘Man’.” He winked.

Auggie grinned, dimples flashing. “Maybe not a ‘Man’ yet,” he conceded, “but definitely… a super cool dude.”

JJ laughed, relieved. “Definitely a super cool dude.” He knew he couldn’t stop time. He couldn’t keep Auggie a little boy forever. But he could cherish every moment, every milestone, even the ones that made his own heart ache a little. And maybe, just maybe, growing up wouldn’t mean growing apart after all. Maybe it just meant their adventures would get a little… bigger. And who knew, maybe “Man-gusta” would still let his old man tag along.

[finniestoncrane]

Hi finnie! Sorry to bother you but u was wondering if you could write something for young Justice Riddler from your list maybe 15 and 51? He is just a cutie! Sorry I don't send request a lot! (≡^∇^≡)

Young Justice!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 719 oooooooh yes please!! these are perfect for him, get ready for some nervous first time eddie!! 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: virginity loss, reader has a vagina but no gendered terms are used, first time sex, nervous eddie

"You're ok with this, yeah?"

As you straddled Eddie's waist, it only then occurred to you that he hadn't replied as confidently as you would have liked when you asked him if he wanted you to be on top. Rather, he'd offered a nervous nod, a stammered 'yes' and then a sharp inhale that never seemed to come back out.

You'd shifted out from underneath his weak grip on your sides, then pushed him gently down onto the mattress, taking care to lift his glasses gently from his face and place them carefully next to the bed. He'd been so willing, so pliant, and you worried about whether he felt like he was just going through the motions.

"If it's not ok, Eddie, we can wait and try again some other time. I really don't-"

"No! No, no. Please, no. I want this to happen. I think I need this to happen. I just... I was nervous. I am nervous."

With a slight giggle, intended to be warming and reassuring rather than patronising, you sat up straight. As you moved, you brushed past his cock, twitching against your body as his eyes closed tight.

"Why are you so nervous?"

One of your hands rested on his abdomen, almost keeping him steady as he trembled with nerves. The other moved up his torso, fingers walking towards the tiny patch of hair on his chest before stopping to stroke it delicately. He couldn't help but smile as he made out the pattern your finger was moving it. A question mark, drawn over and over again as he spoke.

"I don't want to get it wrong."

"What do you think you're going to get wrong, Eddie? You're the Riddler. You don't get things wrong."

That little boost of confidence seemed to have done wonders for him as he reached his slightly quivering hands up and placed them on either side of your waist.

"I'm just worried about... I've not quite practised enough... bucking my hips. I wanted to get it perfect for the first time."

"Ah... did you receive bad feedback from someone else?"

He glanced to the side, lips pressed tightly shut. Somehow, everything fell into place, and you reached your hand to his cheek, stroking against his pointed sideburns and feeling the heat from the deep, red flush on his skin.

"Oh, Eddie. You mean your first time?"

Eddie nodded bashfully, his whole body seeming a shade pinker than it had moments ago. Your own body seemed warmer too, the idea that you were going to be important to Eddie, someone who was in turn so important to you, caused your heartbeat to rise steadily, your blood heating as you began to subconsciously grind your hips a little against him.

"Come here, you sweet little thing. You don't have to be embarrassed."

You helped him shift upright slightly, leaning into him and bringing his face to your bare chest, holding it close as you played with the longer hair at the nape of his neck.

"Of course not. This is actually a bit of a turn on."

"R-really?"

There was a hesitance in his voice, as though he couldn't quite believe that you might be telling the truth. But as you brought one hand from him and helped to position his head against your now desperate cunt, he realised he might have to take your word for it.

With only a smile and a subtle bite of your lip, you began to ease yourself back and forth on his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls as he quickly tore his hands away from you and found the sheets, clutching them with whitening knuckles and reddening fingertips.

"Are you ok, Eddie? Is this pace good for you?"

He could only nod, he feared that opening his mouth might make him whine, and whining might make him lose control, and losing conrol meant that the tiny bit of restraint he had in him would snap and his quickly formed orgasm would be released.

No, he could hold out, just a little bit longer, if only to make sure he could take it for just a little bit longer the next time.

God, he hoped there would be a next time. Practice was the only way he would get better, after all.

[sebadztian]

Inspired by this post from @derangedfujoshi

Talk about character development, being the protagonist of Kuro, Seb went through quite a development.

We started off with an uncaring asshole demon who thinks he's above puny little humans, including his own master (to be fair, Ciel is tiny, but that's not the point here).

And even in the Circus arc, he was still mocking Ciel.

Basically, he was saying that he would protect Ciel from life or death situations, but other than that, Ciel is on his own, most especially if the injury was caused by Ciel's own mistake. He has no qualm about putting Ciel in harm's way, and he even enjoyed it.

But then, the asthma attack happened and I think this is the first turning point for Seb - even if he didn't realize it back then.

So, why is that? Because for once, he couldn't save Ciel. Ciel got an ashtma attack and there was absolutely nothing that Sebastian could do. He could only wait it out. And this is also when Agni told him about putting Ciel's well-being above his orders. At that moment, he might've brushed it off & Soma's presence might've made the whole thing seem more lighthearted, but that comment stayed with him anyway.

That's why he started carrying that physician book that we see later on in the Green Witch arc. He didn't need to carry it with him everywhere, but he did anyway.

Next, of course we have the Campania arc, where Seb almost lost Ciel to UT. It was at this moment that he realized that there was a real possibility of him losing Ciel, that there was someone out there who can best him and take the boy from him. He started to worry, to pay closer attention and ee got this small detail...

Well, he looked just as concerned as the other two. The widening of his eyes, the slight panicked look, Ciel had fooled him and gave him a little PTSD moment just as he'd fooled Agni & Soma. And even back in Campania, he made a light comment about Ciel's asthma, but Ciel brushed it off because of Lizzy.

In the next arc, Ciel got hurt playing cricket and we got this...

The only reason he didn't go into panic was because that part was already planned. Was he happy about it? No. That's why he scolded Ciel while holding him securely. Like, what kind of professor would carry their fallen cricket student off the field like so? Or for those who know, a butler to make that kind of face at his master? I'd love to see Lizzy's reaction, but I digress...

Next, they encountered UT again and Sebastian, fuelled entirely by his fear, panic, and imagination, went against Ciel's order and prioritized Ciel's life and that resulted in this famous scene...

And then, Green Witch happened and oh, boy... This arc is the greatest turning point for Sebastian.

Once again, Seb was put in a situation where he couldn't save Ciel on his ownz where he was forced to stand aside and watch as others took care of his little master.

Just look at his face... His shock and dismay that Ciel had rejected him and had clung to Finny instead. He did not like it. Not at all.

Another look at rejected Sebas... He just stood there by the door, tormenting himself. He knew Ciel would reject him, but he just wanted to know how his little master was doing.

And then this...

This, imo, is a very important moment. Sebastian, who sees himself as above humans, has lowered himself in front of Sieglinde, and begged her to save his master. He even offered to do whatever Sieglide wanter him to do in exchange for that. Basically, he's offering his service without a cost or a contract.

The other servants talked about this later on, but Tanaka corrected them. Sebastian did not 'play around' with Sieglinde, it took a lot for a demon like him to do this. And nobody told him to do this. He took the initiative, acted on his own accord when his master was otherwise unavailable.

This, here, is one of the biggest proofs of his character development. The old Sebas would never, ever do this.

"But he tried to eat Ciel later on!" Did he, really? I had another post that talked about that.

Moving on...

The next time Ciel was injured, we got this...

What's so amusing about this scene is that he didn't have to jump out of a moving carriage. He could've just told the coachman to change ditection, but no, again, in his panic, he has acted impulsively.

Of course, I'm looking at this from a shipper's POV, but even if you don't ship them, you must admit that the demon has gone through quite the character development throughout the manga. He went from a mere hungry demon who sees himself above his master to 'Sebastian'.

[starsofjewels]

*slides over* heyaaaa how you doin? hope your doin great:], could i possibly ask for a gregor c fic maybe a smut maybe a fluff(possibly a continuation of the fic with the kids), okkkk now bye bye love ya!!❤

Warm Embraces and Warmer Beds

NSFW!!

Any and all characters depicted in NSFW pieces are of legal age. All characters are also consenting (Unless specificed by piece)

CONTENT: SMUT (underneath cut)- dub!con, Fingering, PinV, reunion! sex- Language, vague mentions of war + blood (it’s Westeros), discussions of SW

Big Greg… You know what you’re getting in to.

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Hey my pookies. Another day, another request, more regrets. Mistakes have been made, but I will do anything for my self-indulgent fics about a big ass man who’d probably turn me into a pavement pancake if we met irl (🤤)

Anyway…

Live long, prosper… I guess.

P.S. Als at some point (over) 50 of you silly geeses decided to drop a follow, so thank you sm my babies. I love you all.

I really need a Masterlist…

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To be married to a knight- Especially one who boasts his own keep- Is something most ladies of your standing can only dream of. Most low, noble girls are thrown off to a favoured squire, to old men and their older books, who couldn’t be bothered to find themselves a wife until it was much too late. But you? You are lucky. Your husband is feared, truly feared, you have no jealous lordlings come to take your land, and no threat to you, or your boys. Gregor Clegane is a name known across the Kingdoms, and you, as sweet Lady Clegane, are his responsibility. Not even the Lannister bannermen ask for voluntary contribution when they come for the tithes. You need nothing, and you are asked for even less.

But there are always sacrifices to be made. It is part of womanhood; the men hunt and drink and fuck as they see fit, and you are left to pick up the pieces, and tend to their wounds. You have never minded, though, Gregor is a sweetheart when he returns, like a kicked puppy, demanding a hot meal and a kiss to his cuts. His duty is to guard, and yours is to nurture, that is how it has always been.

It is not uncommon for he, Tywin’s greatest weapon, to spend months away from you. He is a knight, and that is how knights serve their lords. He leaves you with everything you could need and more in his absence: control over his land, his keep and, his prized possessions, your boys. Ronan and Finny are old enough to understand their expectations as the heir, and the spare, to the Clegane household. Armed with wooden swords and a promise to protect their lady mother, and the small, pink sack of flesh they call a baby brother. Something in you is glad they still idolise their father’s profession, that their heads are still filled with the notions of saving princesses and slaying dragons.

Still, even excitable little boys grow restless after so long without their father. There is a hush over the keep, and the land, and it is almost peaceful; not that it could truly manage it, with Gregor at its helm, but it is nice to see the pheasants running about, when the men are too busy fighting to hunt them down. One runs past, chased by a kitchen cat, in turn chased by Ronan. You grab him before he can reach the animals, he has a habit of staging races, and annoying the gamekeeper with the scratches across the lawns. The boy squeals, as he always does, caught in the act.

“Mama?”

Ronan is placated with a book and one of the very old, very fat cats he has no interest in racing. The thing, titled ‘lazy arse’ by Gregor, affectionately or not, sits across your son, with the bored expression you’d expect from the child himself. He, with his pages open at an illustration of the Valyrian dragons burning each other, is enjoying himself immensely. At least, you think, his studies are partially educational.

“Mh?"

“When’s Daddy coming back?”

You sigh, looking out the window as though the mustard banners would appear at any moment. You don’t know, in truth, Gregor could be a mile away, or halfway across the world, and it wouldn’t make that much of a difference. Dead, or alive, or turned into a beast of cool flesh and ice, the distance is about the same no matter how you think about it, and double so for your boys. 

“I don’t know, sweet boy,” That’s all you can find yourself able to tell him. He looks at you, shrugs, and goes back to his book. You are glad he is not a girl, a girl would ask more questions, Ronan has always been happy with the simple. 

It is relatively calm, it always is on nights like these. Finny is beyond himself, refusing to go to bed, as always, and the babe is unreasonably fussy for no particular reason. Still, it is near surreally quiet. You do not know much about war, but you know what it sounds like, and in your world, it sounds like silence. Something in you tells you to let the boys sleep in your bed, instead of forcing them into the room the clearly do not want to go in. Finny is light, easy enough for you to lift up and plop on Gregor’s side, Ronan, with slightly more stamina, follows along beside you. 

The night has no major disasters, the babe is taken off by the nursemaids, and you wake to the sunlight streaming in through the window, you must have forgotten to pull the curtains, the staff would not have come in this early. Or perhaps they did; there is a bundle of daffodils upon your dresser, which you are certain were not there when you retired for the evening. Erra, one of your few handmaidens, enjoys making little displays, you assume she has snuck in some time before dawn to place them.

And then you hear it, those footsteps. No man alive can imitate the heavy, dull thud of them, you know it all too well. It stirs the boys, or, more likely, they were already awake, you aren’t particularly sure. You see the shadows change as the door opens, and you can recognise from the size of it alone who stands before you. 

“You awake?”

The response you give is somewhere between a hum and a groan, not quite aware enough to answer him, yet enough to know he’s there. You can hardly move, both for sleep, and the fact that Finny has clambered across your chest at some point in the night, but he still knows. He always knows.

Gregor trundles in, washed and dressed in his nightshirt. You wonder where he slept, surely not beside you, you are certain he would have woken you, or the boys, getting himself into bed. The light blocks most of his face, but he moves with such power you assume he has no injuries. If he does, he is good at hiding them. When he reaches the bed, he pulls the quilts away from you, and you make a noise of complaint for the cold, even if the day itself is reasonably warm. Gregor pulls Finny from your chest, and Ronan from your side, and lifts them up, into his arms, and you are quickly reunited with your warm blankets. You hear one of the boys stir, though unsure which, and he is shushed by Gregor as they leave. For once, they may sleep in their own beds.

Your husband, your Mountain, returns to your side, and climbs into your bed. He is as warm as he left you, and just as willing to wrap you in his embraces. You feel the urge to go back to sleep, to rest in his arms as though he had never gone in the first place, and it is wonderful.

But of course, it is never that simple.

Big hands find your sides, sliding under your nightdress and scraping your bare thighs underneath. Gregor lifts you just slightly, enough so that when he bends his legs, you sit directly upon his lap. You make some sort of noise, some demonstration of complaint, but he has never listened, and he will not start now. 

The first kiss you receive, after months of doing without, goes softly to the plumped skin of your cheek. Warm, and smooth and uncharacteristically delicate, like something you would dream of. Part of you wonders if this is, truly, a dream, as Gregor rocks you back and forth, hands seeking grip on the flat surface of the meat of your thighs. And he does not stop there, he hasn’t stopped a day in his life. 

He grazes you, cool, rugged hands taking their place against soft, fattened skin. You wonder how many nights he has spent alone with his hands in the past months, just as you have. He would never take a whore, he tells you, he can’t be bothered with the effort. But you are no whore, you are soft, and delicate, and willing. 

It doesn’t much matter if the noise you make is of protest or of enjoyment. You are tired, and growing increasingly wet, and this seems to spur him even more. 

“Missed this…”

He murmurs against your skin, pinching fingers pulling up the skirts of your nightdress, so your bare arse rests upon those heavy, muscled thighs, sharp with a thousand tiny, black hairs. It shocks you, just enough for you to register it, but not so that you are fully awake.

You feel his cock immediately, of course you do. Its length, its width. He is a big man, and he has no lack of knowledge towards its usage. Even from within the confines of his nightshirt its outline is visible, and you are almost ashamed of the sudden desire which washes over you. At any other point you would feign shame, you would blush and whimper. But here, and now, there is only so much longing you can hold back. 

Gregor’s great hands come up to caress your face, and he almost laughs,

“You’re drooling, love,” His thumb swipes at your bottom lip, and you resist the urge to bite, to show him you are in no mood for teasing, but you are certain your reward will come soon.

And it does, as always. In his usual fashion, the hands come first. Pinches become long, deliberate waves of touch, and there is the understanding that all of his play, his teasing, has ceased. He wants what he wants, and he wants your cunt.

In your sleep-addled state, and probably in his fully lucid reality, it is gentle and sweeter than usual. Perhaps he is being deliberately gentle to aid your fragile mind, or, more likely, he knows you have forgotten just how big he truly is, and a broken wife is just about as good as no wife at all.

One hand keeps itself firmly upon your hip, in case you slip and slide away from him, as the other caresses your inner thighs, and, when he is satisfied you can handle it, to the true purpose of his invasions. 

He has never let you enjoy his hands solely for long, and this shall be no different. For such a big man, Gregor is shockingly agile in this regard, fumbling steps and harsh palms becoming light touches against your clit. At this time, in this situation, he doesn’t dare venture any further than the surface. From his grunts and, dare you say it, his whines, you can tell he may not last particularly long, the consequence of months away from you, you suppose. 

“Hey, hey- Sleepy girl,”

Gregor’s hands leave your body, and you find yourself pressed once again to the soft, inviting flesh of the mattress, still warm. The semi-shock you experience as your arse touches the cool air is dulled, instantly, as the big man pats it gently. Your hips are lifted, and he puts his own pillow beneath you, warm.

“Have you just the way you like, yeah?”

You affirm, face pushed into your own cushion. You can hardly breathe, but with the delicious tension, it doesn’t really matter. 

And it comes, just as you expected it, perhaps more than you expected it. You see only darkness, but you feel so much more. He moves with poorly veiled desire, a necessity to touch you as only he can. You are his and, more importantly, he is yours, all yours. After all, who else is he taking with such delicate fervour?

You are kissed, you are held, and you are loved. Gregor’s cock finds its way, with simple instinct, to your cunt, and you wince and whine. He had expected it, of course, and gets no more than the tip into you before he has to stop. Not the desired reaction, but the realistic one.

“Shh, shh…” It seems a foreign sound for such a harsh creature. To hush, to comfort, “That’s my girl…”

You keen, your hips shift upwards and you let him in further, despite the uncomfortable stretching. You have always loved his praise, always loved to be his sweet, good, wife. 

Gregor’s movements are gentle. When he takes you like this, after months apart, he allows himself to be gentle. He is your returned knight, your handsome, precious husband, and there is a time and a place for him to be the Mountain. Now, here, is not that place.

When he is certain you are comfortable, that it is not too much, he helps you sit yourself between his cock and your hand. Big fingers return to your clit, and he almost laughs as you squeal, the sudden stimulation, apparently, a shock to the system.

And, naturally, it does not take particularly long for him to reap the rewards of this uncharacteristic gentleness, as you let out your long, low moans, muffled by your face pressed into the cushions, and he feels you clench around him. It is something he has longed for, there is nothing quite like it, and it always brings forth his own finish.

So he does. Thick and hot, everything you might expect from a man of that stature, with such a glorious cock. The world does not give you many pleasures, nor does it anyone, but to be here, warm and filled, is certainly a pleasure worth noting. 

Gregor stays in you, he likes to stay in you. In his brooding moments he likes to say it helps a child come forth, but you aren’t quite sure of the legitimacy to that claim. Not that it matters. You see the sunlight again, staring out your bedroom window with a wall of flesh at your back. And it is beautiful. 

He has killed men, you know that, he will have rampaged through the Vale, or wherever it was he had been sent, destroying everything in his path and laughing as he did it. You see his great breastplate stained with blood, and the image turns you in some, not entirely unpleasant way. But you say nothing, you are too tired for a second round, and your Mountain seems to have spent his energy.

Later, once you are suitably cleaned of all remnants of your adventures, and Gregor is both awake and dressed, you sit around the table, the boys clinging to their father and desperate for tales of their father’s quests around Westeros. Not much of it is suitable for children, you gather.

They spend all day play-fighting, with their swords, and insist that you must watch, to referee, and you must give your favours to both of them, because every knight has their favours. They, as little knights-to-be, are satisfied by leaves you pick from the ground.

Finny wins, to everyone’s amazement, and as his reward is given first pick of pudding. Not substantial by any means, but enough to satisfy a small boy with a love of blackberries. Everyone is happy, all is content, and Gregor fits back into the family with no trouble, making your boys cringe as he kisses you before supper is served. You deserve your rewards too, after all.

[daisyjonesgf]

finnick odair x childish!partner hc's

based off this request

masterlist

finnick odair would find you charming for the way you showed such a bright interest in things, seeing the best in everyone, and the way you could find entertainment in anything

you'd do dishes only to blow the soapy bubbles on him when walked past and burst into laughter every time

you had no fear of danger, just living in the moment, swimming out as far as you could because you thought you caught a glimpse of a dolphin even if finnick tried to warn you about how dangerous it could be

you loved to be outdoors, in the sun, running up to show him your seashells and the sea glass you found on the beach while he fished

you looked so giddy that finnick would get excited too

finnick would take you out in the early morning, when tides were low because there's nothing you loved more then looking at all the sea creatures on the rocks

after a few trips to the market he learned he had to hold your hand in order to keep you from disappearing

it wasn't enough for finnick to keep an eye on you, he'd take one second to talk to the vendor and your eyes would catch something shiny so you'd wonder away

finnick mostly feared this because you were so prone to believing anything a vendor said, overcharging you, lying to you about the worth or quality of an item

there'd also been the time when you'd initially gotten drawn to another booth, then another, and then lost interest, so when you'd hadn't known where finnick was just decided to walk home without telling him

he'd spent over an hour searching just in the large street markets, filled with non-stop worry when he couldn't find you anywhere, spending another hour checking the beaches and secret spots until he finally found you, blissfully unaware at home

"finny, I got bored, wanted to come home and paint. I tried to make ice cream too, but that was a huge disaster, so don't look in the kitchen"

even if it had frustrated and panicked finnick, he couldn't help but laugh at your antics and let you ramble on about every thought you'd had as he cleaned up your mess

since then finnick made sure his hand was always intertwined with yours which you just found sweet

finnick was always bandaging you out, lightly scolding you for all the bruises you got climbing trees, jumping around the rocks, rolling down hills and in the sand

you'd drag him to the meadow so you could run in the flowers, make you both flower crowns and daisy chains, once you'd insisted on holding a mock ceremony where you crowned him

the meadow had once been your safe place and it felt right to you to do something to signal you were letting him into that part of you

finnick adored the way you pouted when you didn't get your way, like saying you two had to get home, how you needed to put a sweater on before going outside in the chilly weather, or that you both had to go to bed

he especially loved mocking your little pouts and whines which made you increase them until he kissed you which always put you in a happier, gigglier mood

[ceoandslutler]

so i was looking at @icantbelieveitsnotbutler's polaris=sebastian analysis here and i actually had a lot of shit in my files relating to it since i had a very similar idea in my mind (but they articulated it so well so im just adding my stuff !!) pls read their post (this one is also related) first then mine because im just adding on and giving my own mini theory

more proof on the polaris is sebastian's body double theory (heavy spoilers)

okay so in the FoL orphanage part of the blue revenge arc, finny and snake meet theo (o! or r!ciel double/blood of sirius) and artie (sebastian double/blood of polaris) and artie=sebs is pretty obvious bc we get bard's flashbacks in the sanitarium section just before FoL starts and this is the first time we see artie

but there's so much more

theo&artie talking about finny vs ciel&sebs talking about snake

honestly there's a lot of whispering between c&s but this parallel really stood out. there's a parallel from the circus arc too where theo throws up

and finally the water dive in the campania parallel

like the hair??? the coat? and the moment after the dive is insane too

he takes theo AND artie's hand and they drag him out. the idea of being saved from above is literally symbolism of how he was saved from the facility by ciel and sebastian

finally i want to mention that polaris is one of the 2 most common blood types (44% of the population). doll who reappears in the FoL section of the story which is about children being exploited for their body parts (where we get the mastiff=polaris=artie=sebs) is tied to an arc of creating artificial body parts (noah's ark circus, baron kelvin and the doctor's project), bodies that feels like real skin made of organic materials (human CHILDREN)

I FEAR THEY STRAIGHT UP "MADE" A SEBASTIAN

ALSO UNDERTAKER WAS THERE WHEN HE BURNT THE KIDS 😭😭 HE KNEW WHAT BARON KELVIN WAS UP TO !! this man loves corrupt doctors (the viscount, ryan stoker and maybe even the doctor in the circus arc)

my final point?

artie WANTS to set the building on fire with no concern for the children inside. sebastian did NOT want to burn it as it was ciel's duty to return the children home. but UT only saw him do the burning, so artie's sebastian-coded response is to burn things, as per ciel's orders (but UT doesn't know/care if it was ciel's orders). artie is what ciel THINKS sebastian is. UT was on the campania nd hidden amongst the coffins, he might've heard this interaction "you were like a beast" so artie (in terms of "aptitude") shows the beastly violence needed to be used for a sebastian copy

artie is a beast, theo 'knows' he is a beast, he is unnerved by artie's violence as much as ciel is at sebastian's viciousness in the campania but both theo and ciel have accepted the aggression their protectors are capable of. theo and artie are the closest to each other; we figure as much from their interactions and how they're the only two people who know each other beyond the orphanage (which is basically the phantomhive manor resident blood farm). in the manor other than tanaka, it is only sebastian and ciel who know each other from before the manor was (re)built. UT is not just creating sebastian... he is creating the sebastian that exists in ciel's mind. a ruthless beast who will stop at nothing to ensure his survival (without the promise of his soul), that is a completely rational course of action for a man who does not want to lose any more phantomhives.

[another-kshit-blog]

I want to talk about just how different the characterization of Ciel and Sebastian is in the original anime versus in manga canon, because it's very drastic. I'm not even talking about Ciel refusing chocolate or Sebastian being an emotionless robot man who never emotes, but just how their dynamic seems essentially different on a base level.

This is just based off of observations made from seeing clips of the anime and others' summation of it, I haven't actually watched it so if someone wants to clarify things for me or just have a big long conversation about kshit that is what this blog is for, I'll turn on anon asks as well but reblogs, replies, messages are all welcome.

Anime Ciel treats his servants poorly in comparison to canon Ciel. He injured Finny with a dart in the first episode for his own amusement, but canon Ciel would never hurt his servants and actually treats them quite well and is close with them, Finny in particular. Yes he bops Finny on the head in the first arc, and Sebastian does the same to Bard, but that sort of slapstick tone has been moved away from, and we haven't really seen it again. Sebastian did punch Bard in a much later chapter, but it was a flashback to when Bard was still in his initial training when Bard and Sebastian were still getting to understand one another, Bard had insulted Sebastian repeatedly and spat on him, and Sebastian himself said he wasn't partial to this method but would use it if it was the only way to get through to him. We don't see Sebastian feeling the need to strike Bard or any of the servants in current time, and they all adore him and cling on him and fear only his "scolding," so I think it's safe to say that they are not being injured even in punishment, let alone for Ciel's amusement. Ciel doesn't hit his servants, not even Sebastian. And no, I'm not counting all the times he slaps someone's hand away when he doesn't want to be touched, that's the action of a traumatized kid, not a master looking to slap around his underlings.

Ah, but what about that time Ciel slapped Sebastian with all that he had in Book of Murder? I'll get to that. I really think Ciel using Sebastian being forced to play dead in the murder arc as an opportunity to slap him is a good example of how they're characterized so differently in the first anime versus in canon.

In the first anime Ciel is always going for Sebastian's face, slapping him or throwing plates of food in his face, and he just takes it and has no reaction. Sure, nothing Ciel can do could cause real harm to Sebastian in either canon, but attacking the face is quite rude and personal and a huge disrespect. In canon, Sebastian is immediately pissed from Ciel just splashing water in his face during the first night in the manor, and when it's clear Ciel needs his help he quickly sets the status quo straight that while he is servant and Ciel master, Ciel is a child in need of care and that Sebastian isn't going to tolerate him acting like that.

It comes up again in the Green Witch Arc, Sebastian is not happy with how Ciel is acting and decides the contract is over if Ciel doesn't shape up. Sebastian has disciplined Ciel from the very beginning, and continues to do so. Look at how he gets on Ciel for his bad manners at Lau's opium den in front of everyone there. Whether or not it is "right" or "proper" for a butler to grab his master's face and scold him, especially in front of all of the other staff and in front of an important business partner, Sebastian will do so regardless, because Ciel needs structure and discipline, so Sebastian is going to provide it.

Ciel is a child, so of course he's going to test the limits of what he can get away with. He playfully kicks at Sebastian for asking why he hasn't grown. He tosses pillows at him when he's mad. He hits him with a pillow when he's having a breakdown and scared/mad at him for eating his brother's soul. He sneaks extra sweets. And he thinks its a really funny, sneaky trick to slap Sebastian when he's playing dead! Look at how he's barely holding back laughter afterwards. That's a naughty child playing a mean trick. And Sebastian immediately knows it. His comment about it to Arthur suggests that while he was surprised Ciel would think of doing that, he wasn't impressed with him for it. Indeed he looks surprised when it happens, even as he keeps his dead act up! And I wouldn't be surprised if Ciel later got in trouble for that, though Sebastian might just let it go considering there isn't really a standard for how to treat someone when you're pretending they're a dead body you're distraught over.

Ciel does not respect Sebastian on a personal level, at least not initially. (That's another conversation, but I do believe they've come to have some respect and even a level of fondness for each other as of the current arc.) He calls him a dog, a vicious beast, and says he will commit any atrocities, which he will. Ciel may hate and fear Sebastian, but Ciel respects Sebastian as an authority figure who keeps watch over him, and as said authority figure, Sebastian has laid down the rules for how things work between them, and what behavior he expects from Ciel, and he will correct him when he gets out of line. And this aspect of their relationship seems to be entirely missing from their relationship in the anime.

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Tagged by the wonderful @laneybishop89 and @anewkindofme! 🩵

Here's some more of Fatherly Love chapter 9:

Once Ciel was no longer sobbing and had been reduced to post-cry hiccups, Sebastian stood up and slipped out of his tailcoat, all without the little boy leaving his grasp. He laid it over Ciel's back to hide the evidence of his accident, mindful of the blood that now stained it. The demon then tucked the boy's face against his shoulder to shield him from the bodies and viscera that littered the inside and outside of the prison walls, before finally beginning to make his way out.

As soon as Sebastian arrived at the main road, he sprinted off like a bolt of lightning in the opposite direction he'd came from. He would need to return to the city at a later time to retrieve the carriage that had been left abandoned in front of Mr. King's shop, and to procure another bottle of the wine his Master requested, but he wasn't going to concern himself with any of that for now. Right now, all he needed to concern himself with was the welfare of his child. Ciel was all that mattered.

Soon enough, Sebastian was walking up the steps of the Phantomhive estate. When they entered the foyer of the manor, all four servants were lined up in greeting. Sebastian watched as their greetings died on their lips, however, when they registered the blood staining the butler's face and clothes and the small form in his arms that was bundled up in his bloody tailcoat. Bardroy, Mey-Rin, and Finny instantly worked themselves into a loud, worried frenzy.

"What the hell happened?! Ya just went out t'get a bottle'a wine!"

"Y-yes, what happened to the young Master?!"

"Is the young Master hurt? Why's all covered up like that?!"

A soft, fearful whine escaped the boy, little hands curling tighter into the white fabric of Sebastian's shirt collar. Before Sebastian could intervene, however, the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat silenced the three.

Everyone's gaze turned to Tanaka.

"Perhaps we should give Sebastian a chance to explain the situation? Allowing our fears and concerns to get the better of us will not help the young Master."

Now thoroughly chastised and quiet, the three servants returned their gazes to the butler with expectant expressions.

"I am afraid I don't have the time to explain everything at this very moment. I must run a warm bath for the young Lord immediately. However, I assure you he is going to be alright, and I will explain things once he is taken care of," Sebastian replied.

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @thegoeticcleric, @phantomhiveroyaltea, @snowviolettwhite, @actualalligator, @nottapossum, @autisticalastor, @pibsboots, @otpcutie, @snarkythewoecrow, @unsurprisinglyren, @cgetbrmj and anyone else who wants to join!

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1) Chapter Nine

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Nine: One Hell of a Hound

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian deal with a demon hound and meet an angel. They don't like either.

            (Y/N) stared at the remains of Barrymore, only surprised by the fact that this implied a Demon Hound did in fact exist.

            “Master Barrymore!” cried Angela.

            Sebastian calmly stepped forward to examine the body. Blood splattered across stone, and an entire hand was missing from the corpse.

            Angela gasped in fear before fainting. (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. Something about her still didn’t seem right, but whatever she was, it felt…rotten.

            “Miss Angela,” said Finny worriedly, kneeling beside her.

l

            “ ‘This case is at a close.’ Having declared such a thing, this is rather unfortunate, is it not, Young Master?” remarked Sebastian with a smirk.

            “Shut up,” said Ciel, irritated. “What about Miss Angela?”

            “We’ve put her to bed for the time being,” said Mey-Rin. “It’s no wonder she’s tired out. It’s so heart-wrenching it’s unbearable.

            “This village completely isolated itself from the rest of society, fearing the curse of the Demon Hound,” said Ciel. “The existence of the Demon Hound was supposed to have been a farce Lord Henry created in order to rule the village. However, that same Lord Henry has now…” Ciel frowned.

            “Most likely, he did exaggerate the presence of the Demon Hound to exercise more control over Houndsworth,” said (Y/N). “However, we overestimated his manipulation. Apparently, there is a root to these myths. There could be a true Demon Hound.” Which was fantastic, as a cat demon.

            “Maybe the Demon Hound was angered by Lord Henry doing all those bad deeds in its name,” said Mey-Rin.

            “Well, it seems certain that this was not the work of humans,” said Sebastian.

            “What do you mean by that?” asked Baldroy.

            Sebastian smirked and didn’t respond.

l

            By the next morning, the situation hadn’t changed. Sebastian and (Y/N) went about their usual day, and there was no ruckus at all before teatime.

            “Sebastian! (Y/N)!” shouted Mey-Rin and Finny, running into the dining room.

            “What is wrong? You’re making a ruckus,” said Sebastian disapprovingly.

            “Miss Angela is missing,” said Mey-Rin.

            “It seems there are herbs that grow near the swamp,” said (Y/N). “She went to pick them.”

            “On her own? To the swamp?” asked Finny worriedly.

            “Really? At a time when the Demon Dog may be running loose?” said Mey-Rin.

            “Ah, damn,” realized Baldroy.

            “Why did she go to pick herbs at a time like this?” murmured Finny.

            “It seems she was worried about how pale you looked,” said Baldroy.

            “For me?” Finny’s eyes widened. He immediately turned and ran back out the door to search for Angela.

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. They shouldn’t be surprised by how easily humans were taken in by the supernatural (they wouldn’t survive as a demon without humans “trusting” them), but sometimes they didn’t understand how the humans didn’t sense the mask around Angela, the subtle rot at the edges of her being.

            “Sebastian, we’re going to,” said Baldroy, running out with Mey-Rin.

            “Oh?” questioned Sebastian.

            “What? You don’t have any hot, red blood running through your veins?” asked Baldroy. “Let’s go, Mey-Rin.”

            “Yes!” said Mey-Rin, and the two disappeared after Finny. Tanaka “Ho, ho, ho!”-ed after them.

            Ciel smirked up at Sebastian. “So, what color is your blood? Seems like something you should be worried about.”

            (Y/N) put a hand on their hip. Their blood was red in this form, but everything changed in their true form.

            Sebastian just raised an eyebrow, frowned, and sighed.

            “My Lord, I’m going to ensure that my…colleagues don’t get themselves into more trouble,” said (Y/N) with a bright smile.

            Ciel nodded and waved a hand. “Go ahead. Sebastian, you and I shall track down the Demon Hound.”

            “Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian, bowing.

l

            “Where did Miss Angela go?” wondered Finny.

            “Check by the water,” said (Y/N), appearing behind him with a smile. Finny, Baldroy, and Mey-Rin screamed and jumped as they appeared out of nowhere. “That’s where the herbs would be.”

            “Where did you come from?!” cried Baldroy.

            “I came out right after you.” They smirked. “You should be more careful in this fog.”

            Mey-Rin cried out, and the others turned to her. She pointed into the mist, and beyond them lay dug up earth. Human limbs, partially decomposed, stuck up from the dirt at random angles.

            “What on earth is that?” questioned Baldroy.

            Now this is the trail of a demon, thought (Y/N). Especially one as uncivilized as a hound. They observed the buried bodies until they noticed a fresh limb. A ring with an engraved “B” flashed on a severed hand. It was Barrymore’s missing arm.

            “That’s…Lord Henry’s…” breathed Mey-Rin.

            A low howl echoed across the hills, and the servants retreated behind a rock before peeking out again. A naked man with red eyes and wild white hair walked across the ground.

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. Demon. Uncivilized, weaker than them, but demon.

            “It wasn’t the Demon Hound that did Lord Henry in…It was a human after all,” said Baldroy as he watched the man lift up Barrymore’s arm and move its placement.

            (Y/N) rolled their eyes. Humans. You can tell them to their face you’re a demon and they still wouldn’t believe you.

            “I-It’s a shocking full-frontal scene!” said Mey-Rin.

            “Did he have a grudge against Lord Henry for some reason?” asked Baldroy.

            “Maybe Miss Angela asked him to do it!” gasped Mey-Rin.

            That would explain the rotten quality about her, thought (Y/N). As the man wandered away into the mist, (Y/N) stood and stepped around the rock. They glanced back at Baldroy, Mey-Rin, Finny, and Tanaka. They raised an eyebrow. “Well? Aren’t you guys coming to ‘save Angela?’ ”

            “Right!” said Mey-Rin, Baldroy, and Finny in determination.

            They continued on through the fog, following in the footsteps of the strange man. (Y/N) remained on edge. If that man transformed to a Demon Hound form, they would have to be ready to fight. After the battle with Grell, they didn’t appreciate having to fight another inhuman being, but they would do whatever was necessary. They didn’t want a filthy dog demon running around causing them trouble, after all.

            Finally, they arrived at the ruins of an old house, stone walls crumbling. The man was nowhere in sight, but (Y/N) could sense his presence around. A howl echoed, confirming their senses. The humans beside them quivered. Finny gasped as a gust of wind whirled the fog, and a gigantic hound appeared through the fist. Its red eyes glowed viciously.

            “The Demon Hound!” cried the Phantomhive servants (minus (Y/N)).

            It howled and ran towards them. (Y/N) moved in front of the humans and grabbed the Demon Hound’s paw, slamming it down on the ground before it reached the mortals.

            “Bad dog,” hissed (Y/N).

            The hound flipped over and growled at (Y/N), base instincts of solitary demons and dogs versus cats overcoming it as (Y/N)’s eyes flashed fuchsia. It bounded towards them again, and (Y/N) grinned and braced to fight. Before it reached (Y/N), though, it slammed into the ground as a figure in black landed on its head.

            “My, my, you’re quite good at the ‘sit’ command,” remarked Sebastian sarcastically to the hound. He glanced back at (Y/N). “It seems you found the hound instead of Angela.”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “I had it under control.” As if to prove it, they grabbed the hound’s paw and threw it into the air.

            “Hey, this isn’t the time to be playing around,” said Ciel, sighing at the two demons.

            “Young Master!” said Mey-Rin, Baldroy, and Finny.

            “Of course. We intend to clean all this up in just a moment,” said Sebastian. He pulled out a small bag.

            (Y/N) deadpanned. “Dog treats?”

            “It is a scent he cannot resist,” said Sebastian as if it was obvious. “Puppy’s favorite! They’ll want to eat it every day! Innuko!”

            The demon hound began salivating eagerly at the promise of food. It leapt towards Sebastian.

            “The best way to train a dog is to bend its will and strengthen its loyalty,” he said. “The carrot and the stick! First, the carrot!” He jumped onto the hound’s head and began petting it.

            “Then the stick!” (Y/N) kicked the hound, sending it flying to the side.

            “Carrot,” said Sebastian, holding out the dog treats as the hound gazed at the box eagerly.

            “Stick!” (Y/N) punched the hound.

            “Carrot.” Sebastian rubbed the dog’s stomach.

            “Stick!” (Y/N) jumped on the stomach.

            “Stick,” concurred Sebastian, taking the hound by the tail and spinning it in the air before launching it away.

            “This is a bigger show than I could have imagined,” muttered Ciel.

            “And finally…a big embrace!” Sebastian hugged the hound and jumped into the air.

            The poor dog fell back to the ground dizzily, leaving a crater in the ground.

            “Sebastian?” called (Y/N), calmly going over and looking down into the crater.

            “I’m coming,” said Sebastian, and as he spoke, the ground rumbled around the crater, and a geyser of water shot up into the air.

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched, and they jumped away as the hot water rained down on them.

            “Is this hot water?” questioned Baldroy.

            “One thing is essential for a resort,” said Sebastian, appearing atop the geyser, perfectly balanced. “A centerpiece that will provide a tourist attraction.” He held the Demon Hound, now in his human form, as he spoke. “Bathing luxuriously in excessive amounts of hot water, draining away the fatigue of the day, that is what this is. The spa!”

            “You know, I’m beginning to think you lied when you used to say dramatics were below our kind,” said (Y/N).

            “If one who serves as a Phantomhive butler could not strike a spring or two, then where would we be?” remarked Sebastian, smirking. He was just showing off, and he was satisfied when (Y/N) chuckled lightly. Before he could revel more, though, the hound leaned forward and licked his cheek.

            “Once again, it’s too shocking!” cried Mey-Rin, blood dripping from her nose at the sight of the naked man licking Sebastian.

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes, grabbing the hound, and tossed him to the side. “Stick.”

            Sebastian smirked in amusement.

            “Pluto!” cried a light voice. Angela had arrived. “Pluto!” The demon hound bounded towards her and hugged her, licking her affectionately. She laughed as Pluto lavished her with affection. “There, there.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. Angela had a Demon Hound obeying her so easily. That was a threat. “How do you know him?” they asked, cocking their head.

            Angela smiled as she looked at them. “I found this little one about a month ago. I love dogs, and he was just so cute I ended up trying to tame him.”

            Of course she likes dogs, thought (Y/N).

            “Cute?” wondered Finny and Mey-Rin.

            “He has a habit of turning into a human when he gets excited, though,” sighed Angela.

            “Don’t try to settle this by calling it a ‘habit,’ ” said Baldroy incredulously.

            “So you kept him without telling anyone?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow distastefully.

            “Yes,” said Angela. “Lord Barrymore used the legend of the Demon Hound, but in reality, he was more afraid of it than anyone else. When I thought about what would happen if this one found out…I suppose I was too naïve. I didn’t think for a moment that he would do that to Lord Barrymore.”

            (Y/N) had a suspicion Angela knew exactly what she was doing. If she could tame a Demon Hound, then she knew what they were capable of.

            “I beg of you, is there no way he could be taken to Earl Phantomhive’s mansion?” asked Angela, gazing at the group with wide, innocent eyes.

            Sebastian and (Y/N) both didn’t look fond of the idea.

            “Take him to the mansion?” questioned Baldroy.

            “If he’s under Sebastian and (Y/N)’s tutelage, I believe Pluto will become a wonderfully obedient dog!” said Angela.

            Pluto woofed and tried to nuzzle at (Y/N) as if to agree and apologize for being bad before, but the cat demon drew away, narrowing their eyes. Pluto pouted, and (Y/N) sighed.

            Dogs. So needy, thought (Y/N).

            “Well, I am one hell of a butler, but…” Sebastian was not a fan, either.

            “That sounds fine,” said Ciel.

            “Are you sure, Young Master?” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed in frustration.

            Ciel smirked, clearly enjoying irritating Sebastian. “Yes. It sounds fun in many ways.”

            (Y/N) briefly considered leaving the mansion, but upon looking at Sebastian once more, they decided against it. The things (Y/N) was willing to do to remain by him…

l

            “Don’t forget about me, Pluto,” said Angela with a soft smile as she secured a collar around Pluto’s neck. She kissed his cheek. This was a goodbye, and the rest of the Phantomhive household, sitting in their carriages, watched.

            “Pluto! In the meantime, put something on when you go into town!” shouted Baldroy, tired of the naked man. Pluto huffed at the idea.

            “Uh, Miss Angela…” said Finny nervously.

            “Let us meet again, Finny,” said Angela, smiling and patting his cheeks. She kissed his forehead, and Finny blushed, hurriedly getting into his carriage as the servants tease him.

            Angela turned to (Y/N) and Sebastian and smiled. “I will have to visit Pluto at some point.”

            “If possible, I would ask you to refrain from doing so,” said Sebastian. He smirked as her smile changed to a cold, emotionless expression. “Taming a Demon Hound is not such an easy task.” His smirk turned to a suspiciously narrowed gaze. “Though you seem to have quite a talent for wrapping lesser beings around your fingers.”

            Angela’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The only one who enjoys such actions is your kind.”

            “You were the one who brought a Demon Hound to a town, knowing what it was capable of,” said (Y/N). They raised an eyebrow coldly. “Isn’t that manipulation by anyone’s criteria?”

            Angela laughed lightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes as she turned to (Y/N). “Worried for the poor townsfolk? What a heart you have for your kind.”

            “No heart, just an eye for flawed logic,” said (Y/N).

            Angela smiled. “We’ll see.”

            Sebastian’s gaze was cold with perfect civility as he stepped up beside (Y/N). “We shall not.” He smiled. “Goodbye.”

            Angela watched (Y/N) leave with Sebastian. She placed a smile back on her face as she waved to the rest of the household. “Goodbye!” Under her breath, however, she murmured, “For now.”

l

            (Y/N) glanced at Sebastian as the carriage continued forward. “Sebastian, what is she?”

            Sebastian looked at (Y/N). “You sensed she was not human, yes?”

            (Y/N) nodded. “Yes, but nothing I’ve encountered before. She was…rotten, yet all the mortals flocked to her.”

            “I suspect she was an angel,” said Sebastian darkly.

            “Angel? With that rotten air?” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

            “It seems she is more than what we see,” said Sebastian. His eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t let that angel get close again. Not to Ciel, and not to (Y/N).

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

[aliceosemansolos]

I JS REALIZED ION HAVE A INTRO POST SO IMMA MAKE ONE.

MY NAME IS FRIDAYY!! IDC ABT PRONOUNS TBH. PERO LIKE THEY/THEM IF U CARE. IM A MINOR SO IF UR 18+ DONT BE WEIRD. IM WRITING A PODCAST CALLED GHOST TOWN, COMING OUT AT SOME POINT!! ON YOUTUBE!!

FAV SHOWS: SCOTT PILGRIM TAKES OFF, HEARTSTOPPER, OHSHC (OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB), SOUTH PARK, NANA, I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS, BROOKLYN NINE NINE, SHOUJO ANIMES, DOCTOR WHO, BOJACK HORSEMAN, YOUNG ROYALS

FAV MOVIES: HEATHERS, BUT IM A CHEERLEADER, IT (BOTH OF THEM), FEAR STREET (THE 2ND MOVIE TO BE EXACT PERO I LOVE THEM ALL), BRING IT ON ( ALL OF THEM OBVI), SCOTT PILGRIM VS THE UNIVERSE, JUNO, UP THE ACADEMY, TEACHERS, SPEAK, KARATE KID, GOOD WILL HUNTING, THE OUTSIDERS, I SAW THE TV GLOW, DEAD POETS SOCIETY

FAV BOOKS: SOLITAIRE, THE OUTSIDERS, HOW IT FEELS TO FLOAT, GIRL IN PIECES, SUICIDE NOTES, THE HEARTSTOPPER BOOKS, RADIO SILENCE, IT, THE CATCHER IN THE RYE, IF HE HAD BEEN WITH ME, IF ONLY I HAD TOLD HER, HATE LIST, YOUD BE HOME NOW, SPEAK, ACT COOL, A BREATH TOO LATE

RANDOM THINGS I LIKE: VINYLS, MUSIC, CDS, BAGGY CLOTHES, ALICE OSEMAN, DUMPLINGS, FASHION, ART, COLLAGES, MUSICALS, SWEET FOODS, BAKING, THE COLOR PURPLE ND RED, BLACK NAILS, POLISH MOVIES, MOVIE THEATRES, 80S AND 90S FILMS

FAV CHARATERS: TORI SPRING, ALED LAST, MICHAEL HOLDEN, KIM PINES, KNIVES CHAU, RICHIE (IT), BIZ (HOW IT FEELS TO FLOAT), HOLDEN CAULFIELD, TARA JONES, RAYNE SEPGUTA (IDK HOW TO SPELL HER LAST NAME), WENDY (SOUTH PARK), KENNY MCORNICK, EMILY (CLASS OF 09), SAL FISHER, JOHNNY (THE OUTSIDERS), LARRY JOHNSON, HACHI, NANA, SHINICHI, JACK MURPHY, FINNY SMITH(IF I HE HAD BEEN WITH ME-IF ONLY I HAD TOLD HER), CHOOCH BAMBALAZI, DANIEL LARUSSO, EDDIE PALIKINIKN(IDK HOW TO SPELL HIS LAST NAME), TODD ANDERSON, NEIL PERRY, MAX CAULFIELD

FAV GAMES: CLASS OF 09(THE RE-UP IS MY FAV), UNPACKING, OUR LIFE GAMES, BAD END THEATRE, SALLY FACE, RANDOM ITCH.IO GAMES, RHYTHM DOCTOR, STARDEW VALLEY, LAST SEEN ONLINE, OMORI, LIFE IS STRANGE

FAV MUSIC: RADIOHEAD, MITSKI, TV GIRL, ALEX G, THE SMITHS, ANY MIDWEST EMO, MSI, KIMYA DAWSON, THE MOLDY PEACHES, THE CURE, THE BEATLES, SUBLIME, FOO FIGHTERS, MOST DEATH METAL BANDS, CHELSEA GRIN(THATS METAL PERO WHATEVA), KORN, NIRVANA, THE POLICE, BAUHAUS, SIOXIES AND THE BANSHES, ALL GARAGE PUNK

FANDOMS IM IN: CLASS OF 09, SALLYFACE, STARDEW VALLEY, OSEMANVERSE OBVI, OMORI, SCOTT PILGRIM, BLUE PERIOD, FRUIT BASKET, TOKYO REVENGERS, KIMI NO TODOKE, NANA, PRETTY MUCH ANYTHING WITH MICHAEL CERA INVOLVED, AND PROB MORE I JS FORGOT

FAV PODCASTS: WELCOME TO NIGHTVALE, HELLO FROM THE HALLOWOODS, AND UNIVERSE FRIDAY

GO FOLLOW MY INSTAGRAM: ALICEOSEMANSOLOS‼️‼️

[azuresins]

The first thing I noticed in the chapter 204 cover art was both Finny's thorns and, the way his hairclips are arranged like Roman Numeral Eleven. (XI)... This is also a reference to Jesus Christ, which. Seemed like Yana wanted us all to know for absolute certain, that this thorn crown is specifically a Christian reference and wants us to really notice, and for us to compare Finny to Jesus. Which is interesting to me, because in the picture Finny is dressed like a vampire... I can't help but wonder, if Christ's resurrection, is meant to enter our mind, too. ...? The dead can't come back to life that we know of in the context of the manga so far, but there are Bizarre Dolls (I forgot no one calls them Weird Barbies except me and I almost typed that and left it in), and there are Death Gods, both of these are beings that were human, once and have died (more or less). We don't know anything about vampires, but now I have to wonder what Yana has in mind for Finny's fate...

Is he... fated to be die, and come back...?... is that too good (or terrible??) to be true...? Finnian is my favorite, and I know I'm actively trying to talk myself out of the hope that he's not just going to die, and thats it. But, still. That seemed a highly specific choice. There's nothing to suggest any human character will be a Grim Reaper definitively and I certainly can't make that claim off of one thing she's drawn, but Finnian in particular, always kind of gave me pause simply because. He's the gardener. He uses garden tools every day. What if that was some kind of foreshadowing, since all the grim reapers in Kuroshitsuji use a variety of garden tools and not just typical scythes ... is it possible? The only others we've seen garden to that degree, are Grelle (...lol) and Sebastian. For a human character we've known for a long time, to undergo that human to death god transformation, in real time? Before our eyes? We haven't seen that, yet. That could be interesting... but would she do that, and would she choose someone like Finnian (or any of the other servants) for that part? I don't know, but. I am looking directly at this art and I am suspicious of it. If nothing else, it's scratched my brain. Is it possible fanfic fodder, if nothing else? Yes. I feel like I'm repeating myself a lot, but I stand by that I think Finnian is extremely important and paramount to this story, there's more to him than most think... It's also worth mentioning by contrast, Snake, is dressed as a Hogwarts Wizard, right. Except... Snake, really DOES actually TALK to snakes. In that context, this frames that reference a bit interestingly... because to talk to snakes, would mark someone as a respected, feared, and powerful wizard in the context of the series he's making reference to. Our snake isn't a powerful wizard (I mean, that we know of, we really don't know much about snake yet), but that's not the point I'm trying to make. In that series talking to snakes isn't a good thing, but, it still makes his outfit interesting-- because he can actually do that. Talk to snakes. What does Finny, then, have in common with a vampire with a Jesus complex? "Super human" quality? Abused by humans? Guilt? Unwavering loyalty, to the point of martyrdom? ... is that all? Is there anything else? ???

[theosconfessions]

i was tagged by the lovely @nitrozem and @bloomingkyras

oc deep dive with finnie whitmore

What uncommon/common fear do they have? rollercoasters. he LOVES going to theme parks but this one time dusty put him on his first rollercoaster and he swears he almost broke his neck [he didnt hes just embellishing for drama purposes]

Do they have any pet peeves? liars. just a simple liars. hes big on the honesty front. even if it hurts him hed prefer that over something trying to spare any feelings.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? his ps5, his personal pc, and his kitty.

What do they notice first in a person? hes a little vain at first so the first thing he notices about a person is that ass. hes an ass kinda dude BUT afterwards..he has all sorts of red flags kicking up everywhere so hed probably do a quick sweep of the in the clear check list.starting with wedding rings .

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? 9. he gets knocked in the head by flying footballs from his hs kids. gym isnt for the weak.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? hes a mix of both. hes reserved but he'll say whats on his mind and then just poof.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? he comes from a small family with an older brother and a little sister. really only is close to his mum. as far as being a family person hed never say no to a shopping trips with his mum and they try to make it a monthly thing.its harder on them since he moved a little further away.

What animal represents them best? red panda honestly.

What is a smell that they dislike? theos cologne.

Have they broken any bones? hes broken his arm/ ankle and most recently his nose.

How would a stranger likely describe them? id think they would describe him as a little bit shy of a dude. maybe he can come off stand offish because of that.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? morning bird! hes my little old young man.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? He hates that lavender shit.he can be a little bit of an old man but save the lavender flavour for when he loses more of his taste buds.. but loves anything mint :3

Do they have any hobbies? ghost hunting :) ;)

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? immediate sweat. nothing more but immediate sweat and then trying to act like hes supposed to .

Do they like to wear jewelry? he always wears a rolex dusty got him one xmas.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? neat :)

What are two emotions they feel the most? lonely and confused

Do they have a favorite fabric? spandex.

What kind of accent do they have?the most louisiana drawl youve ever heard

i am tagging @budgie2budgie @duusheen @gloomymoood @awkwardwhims @riverofjazzsims @invisiblequeen @havenroyals @simvanie and @sirianasims for this and anyone else who wants to do it bc id literally sit here and tag you alllllll

[finniestoncrane]

Hey finnie!

Could I have front row seats with BTAA Scarecrow watching a horror with some bubble tea, a cupcake and pickles?

With an Afab/ or gender neutral reader?

And congratulations on your 2k followers! 🎉🎉 Keep it up finnie your one of my favourite writers. Keep up your amazing work!❤️

thank you so much!! also i hope you like your cupcakes with extra dead dove in them because aheeeeem anyway, possessiveness here has become a stand-in for jonathan's complete control over his patients kjhkjhasd 💚🩷 cw: addiction, drugs (jonathan's fear drugs), blackmail, dubcon (coersive), posessive behaviour, humiliation/degradation 🔞minors dni🔞 send a request • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

"I swear... I wouldn't ask, I wouldn't stoop this fuckin' low. But I'm desperate, Doctor Crane."

You'd assumed that perhaps given that he was your psychiatrist, that Jonathan would have an ounce of sympathy for you. And failing that, you had assumed that since he was the one who had gotten you addicted to his fear drugs, that he'd feel some level of responsibility. But the way he shook his head, a cruel smile pressed onto his face, you realised you had assumed wrong.

"No money, no can do. Sorry. And do you even have an appointment?"

In complete disblief at his callous nature, you shook your head and scoffed.

"I told your secretary how I was feeling... she said you were free. Please, I'm serious. I need some more. I'm desperate."

With no hesitaiton, as though he had been waiting to hear you repeat yourself, he leaned over his desk.

"How desperate?"

"I... really. Really desperate."

He chuckled, a horrid, derisive tone behind it.

"How embarrassing. I'm sure your parents would be ashamed to know where you've ended up in life. Your friends, baffled that they could have spent time with someone this low on the ladder of life."

This is how he wanted them. All of his patients. Desperate. Begging. In dire need of him and his services. And willing to do whatever he wanted. That's what made them his. That's what gave him the control, the ownership of them.

"Ok, let's find out how desperate then. Stand up, take off your pants, and then sit back down and spread your legs."

"W-what?"

"Apologies, do you need me to repeat all of the instructions again? Or just a specific part?"

You shook your head, mouth open in confusion.

"I just... don't think I understand."

"Oh, you poor thing. Stupid and pathetic. What a waste. Now, are you going to prove you're worth something at least? Or can I get on with my afternoon?"

As tears began to well in your eyes, Jonathan tapped his wrist impatiently.

"Shall I make it easier for you? Do you want your drugs, or not?"

Sniffling, you wiped under your nose and took a deep breath.

"I want them."

"Well then..."

Jonathan snickered as he watched you stand up, a pathetic vessel, there to do his bidding. A symbol of his triumphs. A testament to his creations. An ode to his genius.