#he’s literally not willing to look it in the eye!!!!

[sgt-tombstone]

Call signs weren’t supposed to be flattering. More often than not, they were the direct result of some embarrassing fuck-up that trailed a soldier for the rest of their life. They were voted on by the first platoon that a soldier joined, usually within the first few months, and they then spent the next few months cringing every time they heard it. Simon’s first platoon had seen a recruit land the call sign “Seagull” after a drunken dare to nick a fry from their captain’s tray in the mess hall, and he had personally bestowed the call sign “Dash” upon a soldier who had somehow managed to clip himself in the leg with his own bullet. Dumb Ass Shot Himself…

The embarrassment wore off, though. When one was stuck with a name for the rest of their lives, they learned to live with it sooner rather than later. The associated stories either got buried deep or drunkenly flaunted; the stupider the better. The funny ones became a point of pride and the truly humiliating ones eventually settled into something sort of like mundanity. Amusing tales became nothing more than yet another name, a stitched moniker, an email signature. The point was: by the time they made it to the special forces, and especially once they were assigned to a task force, no one gave a shit about their call signs anymore.

Whenever Soap heard his call sign, whenever anyone asked after its origins, he laughed it off, citing his ability to clean house or, more flirtatiously, his ability to clean up after himself, but he always internally cringed.

No one ever noticed. No one except for Ghost.

He never said anything, never asked about it, which Johnny was thankful for, but he was infinitely more thankful that Ghost took every opportunity to call him literally anything else. Sergeant, at first, then Johnny. MacTavish, if he was mad; any other combination of insults if he wasn't, because they both knew he never really meant them. Sunshine, sometimes, in the mornings when Soap stumbled out of bed in whatever safe house they were staying in, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. Scottish Bastard, or Our Johnny, or Pyromaniac, or Lad. Rarely Soap.

It was in his file, Johnny knew, the file that Ghost had read cover to cover, too paranoid to blindly trust Price's judgment with a new team member. Evidently, he hadn't made the connection between the incident report nestled in the sheaves of paper and Johnny's embarrassment. More likely, he just didn't care. Johnny wasn't sure which option he preferred.

Johnny had always had an issue with authority, and joining the military had done nothing to quell his rebellious streak; he was still a teenager, fresh out of basic, barely legal, the first time it happened. His sergeant had been giving him eyes for the entire two months since he'd joined, and Johnny'd be lying if he said he hadn't pushed himself just a little harder in response to the attention. The night of graduation found Johnny in the sergeant's bed, taking everything he was given and begging for more.

He hadn't seen that sergeant again after that, but it had more to do with Johnny's SAS training than anything else, and it started a bad habit. Nearly every unit he joined, he eventually ended up in his superior's bed. It was all consensual, and Johnny would be willing to attest to it if need be, but he never got caught, and he moved from unit to unit so often that it never really mattered.

Until it did.

Two years out of basic, about halfway through his SAS training, he got caught. Rather, they got caught. They were in the showers, his lieutenant pressing him against the tile wall, when their captain had walked in. The implications were clear, especially with Johnny on the receiving end, and the lieutenant had gotten discharged, despite Johnny's protestations. It had been his idea, but it still looked like an abuse of power. Word had flown around the base, and Johnny had gotten stuck with the call sign Soap as a terrible joke; "don't drop the soap" was uttered nearly every time he entered a room, and he ended up being the youngest to pass selection largely to get away from the teasing.

Once he joined the SAS, he never saw anyone involved in the incident ever again. The incident report went in his file, but it got buried among the accolades, the outstanding test results, the exceptional service record. No one except his superior officers had the clearance to read his file, which was for the best; their knowledge of his bad habit kept him from indulging, and he hadn't looked at another superior officer the same way since.

Until Ghost. Who called him Johnny, not Soap. Who tolerated and even encouraged his flirting. Who knew every detail of his file but never pushed for more.

Whenever Johnny got too close to a line, Ghost would switch back to Soap, just once, just enough to nudge him back a step, but he was never cruel. It was a slap on the wrist, not a sharp reprimand, and Johnny had learned enough about Ghost's tone and eyes to see the switch for what it was: a gentle warning, a clearly expressed boundary.

And then one of their missions went to shit, and Johnny ended up in the hospital for months, and Ghost stopped calling him Soap altogether. In the aftermath, Johnny danced closer and closer, always expecting his cautionary call sign to fall from Ghost's lips, but it never did. On and off the field, Ghost simply watched Johnny get closer, stopped holding him at arm's length. He started welcoming his flirting, started actively encouraging him, started reciprocating.

The first time they fell into bed together, something panicked fluttered in Johnny's chest. He'd been here before; he'd gotten a lieutenant wrongfully dishonorably discharged before, for nothing more than the very act that he and Ghost had been dancing around for years. The moment before their lips met, he backpedaled sharply, only to be caught by the rigid warmth of Ghost's arms.

Ghost knew. Ghost knew his past, knew his record, knew what he'd been walking into. Ghost didn't care.

Price knew. Price knew his past, knew his penchant for gravitating towards authority, and still had placed him within Ghost's grasp time and time again. Price didn't care.

And Gaz... well, Gaz was Johnny's biggest enabler. Gaz didn't care.

So he let himself take the final step, the leap of faith, and landed safely in Ghost's hold, in Ghost's bed, and in Ghost's life. Loved, satisfied, and most importantly, protected. Safe.

And if he started wearing his call sign like a badge of honor for the first time in his life... well, he was sleeping with a superior officer, and he wasn't ashamed of it anymore. Whenever Ghost looked at him, reverent, bordering on worshipful, Soap couldn't find it within himself to feel a single ounce of embarrassment over his name.

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: sweet baby boy drew whos willing to help u, nothing else rly

tropes: second chance, fake dating, one bed, forced proximity

authors note: i wanted to give it a sort of “the proposal” / “anyone but you” type of feel !! this is obviously going to be a series so let me know if u want to be added to the tag list from now on so u dont miss an update ! <3

your body freezes in place when you’re asked about the wedding. crap, you forgot. but it isn’t like you received any invite.

“theo sent you an invite through the mail. you got it right?” your friend, leila, asks you. leila and her fiancé theo have been your friends for years now, ever since leila applied for a job at your work. she’s been your closest friend, so theo naturally had to come along too.

“what? yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, and guilt punches you in the face when you stare right into her bright eyes. you raise the cup of coffee. “was literally jumping for joy when i got it.”

leila sighs in relief. “thank god we got the right address,” she says and you question what she means by that before she continues, “we didn’t know whether to send it to your apartment or drew’s.”

your breath is caught and you pause before your drink reaches your lips.

“drew,” you repeat, and she nods.

“yeah, but we figured you’ll both see it either way so, sent it to his place ‘cause theo said it was closer,” leila says, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement. “but anyway! before the wedding, i wanted to stay with our inner circle so if it’s possible for a little two-week vacation? the venue is close to my mom and her boyfriend’s house so we’d just be staying there. i would’ve picked after the wedding if theo didn’t already have the honeymoon planned. he’s too excited.”

“wait, two weeks?” you inquire, “who’s coming?”

she shrugs, “you and drew, libby, gia . . .” she trails off as she thinks about it, and you swallow as you set your cup down. “i forgot who else. i know it’s one of theo’s coworkers but i forgot who. let me text him actually.”

your face lights up at the opportunity to get away, and you nod. “i need to call drew actually,” you say, and she smiles and nods as you stand from your seat and make your way to her living room. “need to remind him to take the . . . fish . . . out.”

“fish?”

“we’re having fish tonight, yeah.”

you turn away to scroll through your contacts until you find his, then click on it. you settle down on the couch as you wait anxiously for him to pick up, and just hope that he does.

just before the call goes to voicemail, the line clears. “yeah?”

“you are such a—!” you hiss quietly, careful not to let leila hear you. “why didn’t you tell me leila and theo sent you a wedding invite for us?”

“i literally just checked my mail, alright? i would’ve said something about it as soon as i saw it,” he tells you. “i just flew in two days ago, y/n. i’m at the . . . i’m not at my apartment right now but my mail’s all on my counter. i’ll look for it once i’m home and then send you pictures of it, okay?”

you know that your situation with drew is slightly complicated. you were together for five years before ending things just a year ago.

because of your careers, you aren’t surprised that people assume you’re still dating. even close friends like leila and theo. everything was kept private. a year into the relationship was when fans even found out about you two.

you both have been looking for a time to address the breakup, to friends first for sure, but with your conflicting schedules, the time’s just never come up, and sending a “by the way, we broke up” text to an imessage groupchat wasn’t totally ideal.

even with the wedding coming up, having to be around everyone while you celebrate your closest friends, how are you either of you supposed to bring it up now?

“okay,” you tell him. “just text me when you’re free. any time before 10, please.”

“okay,” drew’s voice is soft and understanding. the line goes dead and you pull your phone away from your ear, seeing that he’s hung up.

your expected text comes around 8pm. drew’s sent you four different attachments. all are photos of the elaborate and detailed wedding invitation. the designs must’ve been leila’s idea.

you’re surprised to see an incoming call on your laptop right after. you hover over the accept button, then click on it.

his face fills a rectangle of your screen. he’s on his phone—“do you see it?”

“yeah wait,” you mumble, clicking out of the facetime to open your messages with him, then click the first photo. “leila and theo; rsvp by september twenty-seventh.”

“the letter’s addressed to my place but they put our names on the envelope,” drew tells you, and it looks like he’s ruffling through something before he flips his camera to display his counter. on it is the envelope in question, which is addressed to his apartment, but for y/n and drew, it says.

you hum. “are you going?” you ask him.

“of course i’m going. what do you mean?”

you shake your head, “nothing.”

drew only knows of leila or theo because of you, because leila works with you. maybe he’s made friends with theo but it’s not something you’ve personally seen, so you’re just assuming that maybe since you’ve broken up, there’s no reason for him to go? especially when he’s filming soon?

you stare down at your keyboard as you speak again, “leila wants us to come on a two-week pre-stay with her and theo. and others.”

there’s a brief pause from drew, like he doesn’t understand.

you sense it immediately and continue. “like, before the wedding, she told me today about how her mom has his house she wants us to stay in, just a few of us for two weeks, then they have her wedding— i don’t know, i need to ask her more about it. i think she just wants to fly everyone out and spend more time with us before she’s on honeymoon and living the wife life.”

“could be fun,” drew says. “i mean, i can’t even remember the last time i was out with theo or leila. it might be good for us.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him through the screen, and you try to read him to see if he’s joking. “there is no more ‘us’, remember? and by the way, neither leila or theo or anybody else knows that.”

drew hesitates as if he’s trying to justify your situation.

you rub your eye before resting the side of your head against your fist, “they addressed the invitation to both of us, drew. i feel like we should at least tell them the truth so that when we get there, they know.”

drew hesitates, his eyes moving around as if searching for the right words. “yeah, i know. it’s just . . . complicated.”

“complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you say, feeling frustration build up. “it just feels dishonest. they think we’re still together, and if they find out at the wedding, it’ll look like we’re hiding things.”

“we are hiding things,” he reminds you. “we’ve been avoiding the topic. do you really want to drop this bomb on them right before their wedding?”

you go silent as you think about it, because if telling them isn’t a good option then . . .

“what if we just kept up the appearance that we’re still together?” drew suggests. it draws your attention as you look up at your laptop. “for the wedding and the pre.”

you blink, taken aback. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” drew continues, “what if we act like we’re still together while we’re there? it might make things easier for everyone. seeing us apart will just create tension. people will feel like they’ll need to walk on eggshells around us.”

you give him a skeptical look. “acting like a couple isn’t the same as actually being one. i’m not sure i can just pull it off without it feeling fake.”

“we’re not faking,” drew says gently. “we’re just playing a part for a bit. we’re professionals. it’s literally our job. we can do this for a few days.”

you pause, considering his words. “but what if it just makes things worse? what if pretending just complicates everything?”

drew’s expression softens, and he speaks more earnestly. “look, we’ve been in tough spots before. there’s been so many times on set with you and i before that we’ve had to navigate headfirst. this is no different. think of it as a role we have to play for a short time. it doesn’t change what’s real.”

you sit back, processing his suggestion. “so we fake it for now and deal with the truth later?”

he hums. “it’s not ideal, but it could save a lot of awkwardness and stress. we can be civil and supportive for their sake, and then handle everything after.”

you let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the decision. “it just feels like a lot of work to keep up a pretense. but i guess if we’re going to do this, we need to at least figure out how to make it believable.”

“we’ll figure it out,” drew says, his voice a little more hopeful. “it’s not about being perfect. it’s just about getting through the weeks without making things worse.”

you nod slowly, still feeling uneasy but recognizing the practicality of his idea. “okay. pretend for leila and theo, and then deal with the fallout afterwards.”

there’s a faint smile on his face as he nods at you. “just two weeks, remember? we can do that,” he says. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, alright?”

“okay,” you murmur, and drew hangs up on you.

the facetime window closes and displays your last app that’s been open, your messages. you’re face-to-face with the photos of the invitations once more, and a part of you is overwhelmed with emotions—fear, excitement, guilt.

two weeks. that’s all it is. just two weeks with your ex-boyfriend. you can survive that . . .

right?

[ibelievewhatyousaid]

The Sinner’s assigned Abnormalities in L. Corp are very intriguing to me, as not being a general “resonance,” that Limbus uses with its current day Ego. But! They were assigned that for a given reason, even if only on a meta level, so I’d like to put my two cents into it as I love the Lobcorp Abnos so much. These are simplified summaries of the Abnormalities and speculation on how they fit said Sinner.

Faust - Forsaken Murderer

I do not believe she has an Ego Gift adored to her except the one for this Abno, so we can focus in on this purely; all being of Forsaken Murderer. (On this note, although I am not talking about the realization Ruina Egos, Meursault has Ego for this Abno as well) Forsaken Murderer in his original logs was said to have been a murderer in federal prison to have been sentenced to death. Before that could take place, a bunch of researchers decided to experiment on him. They wanted to prove an innate “evil,” existed and on a further level, they wanted to “cure,” him, although unclear what it really was they wanted to cure. Their experiments twisted out all of his penitence for violence, turning him docile, until he came to this belief of ringing in his head, that his head itself had became metal, leading to self harm against himself. Eventually a fatal accident happens, the researchers jump the ship and decide to simply dissect his brain, until the end he muttered, “ends, begins, ends, begins, end.”

NOW, this is hard to shape into Faust’s story, given how little we know about her on a deeper level, but, I think there’s already (shallow-ish) connections we can make. Faust has a lot of implications of science experiment (Child in a Flask, Telepole) whether we take this ‘literally,’ it’s safe to say either way Faustcord keeps her on a tight leash as being an “experiment” of a Faust who is willing to take a gamble. A lot of Forsaken Murderer focuses on the fact he is chained and tied up but “free as any other man,” we could take this as Faust’s expectation of being a skilled scientist and genius who is bound by those around her, to fulfill that role, yet “free,” at the sake of being all knowing. Faust is “omnipresent,” yet she is just another in a chain of command. In TKT she mentions to Vergilius that both of them “know their place,” despite how great she is, how “free,” of knowing she is, she is just another chain, in both the City and Dante’s contract to the sinners. We can also go deeper with this concept of “inevitably,” of the city, given to her by a predestined plan of fates, in every mirror world, how it all will end has already been put into motion. To know of how tied you are to fate surely must be a token of freedom as well, can’t it? He also seems to have a bit of an ego, a Ruina line of his being, “Don’t look at me with those eyes. You’re the most pitiful one here.” Which, fits Faust’s need to be above others, such as “Faust is brilliant, smart, Yi Sang is a genius.” An implication that Yi Sang had a cap on how brilliant he can be, something he must’ve lucked into, Faust was born to be great. Even if she is regrettably pitiful in every other aspect. An inability to connect to others or form meaningful attachments, this especially rears its head in events were her intelligence creates gaps between her and others, all of MotWE or Dante’s brush off of her in Canto 6 when she cannot given them an answer, or, even earlier, Sinclair accusing Faust and Limbus using the Sinners as compasses to boughs. In all situations it leaves her isolated and awkward, unable to answer, creating a larger, pitiful wedge between her and others, despite how great she is. She is still a thing to be “studied,” whether from an actual scientist or to other versions of her, or those around her, she is a spectacle.

Outis - Der Freishütz / Bloodbath

The story of Der Freischütz in Lobcorp was of a marksman making a deal with the devil, the devil proposed that the gun could shoot anyone, on the last bullet it would pierce the person the marksman loved, in return, the devil would gain the marksman soul in hell. The marksman thus went through all his bullets, killing off all his loved ones. The marksman traveled, simply doing good and bad deeds in impulse, no sign of an actual moral code. Eventually, he realized that the devil had long since stopped following him. He realizes that the contract had long been fulfilled, since the very beginning of him giving up his loved ones, did he fall to hell. And so, now a devil as well, the marksman continued to shoot anyone he wanted, forever.

Again, another sinner we’re left out in the cold for. But, to tap into Outis’ source, The Odyssey, the story follows Odysseus’ desperation to finally reach home, to his family. As the stories play out the more Odysseus gives up his morals. To sacrificing his men to no mercy, a king who was once gentle and kind, gives up all people around him to succeed in arriving home. Of course, from the start, Odysseus had given up his family, a mother who died alone, a wife left waiting for over a decade, a son who had never known him. Odysseus also makes many deals with Gods around him, something he pays greatly later for. Of course, none of this is a one for one, but I think it is to mimic Odysseus, or here, Outis’ slower decent into someone who hurts those who she loves (or should’ve) by her cruelty, once Odysseus had set off to war was the moment he was bound to lose everything. Which, is very similar to how Der Freishütz is, he had lost his humanity the moment he made the deal.

Bloodbath is a Abno based overtly on Carmen, but, to ease it into a more general baseless story, the Abnormality represents: “the pain of all those who couldn’t take their sorrow in stride.” A huge focus on Bloodbath is the guilt of love, of unable to achieve success, using “scars” as marks of failure. The bath mocks the person peering in with hands reaching out desperately, as if begging to be saved, or joined, in this misery. It’s a sign of endless despair, unable to ever reach the climax of this, the only outcome is to accept this wave of despair and let yourself accept it.

So, arguably this fits Outis really well just on the bases of the line: “Many hands float in the bath. They are the hands of the people I once loved.” This once again, is more of a line of thinking born from her source, but a lot of Odysseus’ guilt is haunting to him, specifically that of Penelope, but overall, he gives up many men, including people very close to him, to never truly “succeed,” I feel like this one is easier to connect to, given what I said of the previous Abno to Outis, so.

Don Quixote - Meat Lantern / Void Dream / Fragment of the Universe

Meat Lantern is quite.. obtuse, in its logs, both in Lobcorp and LoR most is left obscure. Which is terribly fitting. Meat Lantern, by your guess, is obviously not a tiny little flower. The logs say that it is gigantic, underneath the entire facility, always waiting, it lures people in, in L. Corp’s lens, it lures in employees by being a lantern, something shiny, full of hope, they haven’t seen stuck underground for so long. Any nature, any lights, something that wasn’t horrific or artificial has long since been lost to everyone there. It’s easy to feel it calling to them, to reach out, to touch, but it’s all a ploy to devour and eat whoever trusts it.

So, Donqui’s Abnos are actually what made me originally want to write about them. I had written out my analysis of hers a few months before, but it was too hinged on my own reading of her that it felt easy to write off as me sounding insane. But! With the reveal of MotWE.. this seems, pretty obvious. (Glad to know I’m not too crazy) Don Quixote wears a mask, one of “hope” something born from really just being .. silly, of something rare in the City. Someone who genuinely believes in good? In hope? Here? As “Don Quixote” stands as an ideal, a concept, “too good to be true.” and beneath that is a “reality,” no one’s has “really ever seen.” (as the log says about the “real body” of Meat Lantern) and then “devours” people. Yeah. I bet.

Void Dream’s logs follow someone who has Void Dream eat all their nightmares, giving them the best dream they could have imagined, the person they love had returned, even working in such a horrible company that is L. Corp was good. Everything was so, so amazing, a perfect ideal world for the dreamer. When waking up, the person was crushed by reality, when forced to confront the truth they became despaired. They tried to find those dreams again, in an obsession, but, they never did come back. The employee comes to the realization that Void Dream’s deal was too good to be true, that from the start, the Abno had set them up. And they had lost, unable to enjoy either sides of reality or dreams, they find their way back to Void Dream and beg them to eat all their dreams. Stealing away all their dreams, nightmares, hopes and despairs, virtually leaving them empty. When Void Dream is accused of leading people on, it brushes off the person, insisting it just wishes the best for others. The line, “a demon must change its shape to deceive others.”

Originally, I had read this purely as Don Quixote being put into the victim’s prospective, someone who “wakes up” from a perfect dream to be crushed by reality. And, I don’t actually disagree, I think this still 100% fits. But I think her fitting “as” the Abnormality makes perfect sense, too. Obviously, the whole “deceiving others,” line fits. To change one’s shape, a “demon” a Bloodfiend, to deceive others into seeing it as innocent, pure, true to the ideals it preaches. But, and this is a bit speculation on what we know very little of, “Don Quixote,” was given, or is a dream herself that a Bloodfiend wishes to dream, that Bloodfiend must’ve spun this tale, this “perfect” dream is an “act of kindness,” despite not being kind at all. Despite giving out this dream, not only to herself, but to others around her, does it lead to destruction and a harsher fall to reality itself.

Fragment of the Universe.. actually isn’t an Abnormality. At least, not traditionally, if the logs are true. The log mentions how it let itself be caught and studied, and through studying they declared it “intelligent enough” to communicate via language, thus, it learned more and more of humans and humanity. It became endeared and loved people. It reflected what it saw, leading to it looking like a kid’s drawings of hearts. When asked why it had came to interact with humans, it said it wanted to spread messages. One being its song, a song of the universe that drove people crazy, but also let them “finally see the stars,” and also to inform everyone that “there are no coincidences in the universe.”

FotU is really intertwined to its love of humanity, even its design is rooted in this love for the species. Its aim to spread its song is to “relieve” people, as well, even if misguided or unable to be understood. I think Don Quixote, as a concept, is so terribly human. She’s overly emotional, she’s quick to action, strong morals, she’s clumsy and brave and fearful and determined. She is so very human that it backfires. Given Cassetti’s lines, “we are so, so hideous behind the mask.” and his dedication as well as other Bloodfiends to “run” from being monsters and Elena’s lines of her wondering if she was desperate enough to “chase after being an ordinary human again.” I think the Bloodfiend behind Don Quixote genuinely loves humans, and, most likely, wants to “be” one. And “reflects” what she sees, which is a habit Donqui has, mirroring Merusault in TKT, or wishing to “copy” other sinners from Outis’ wristwatch. Donqui also has a huge tie to stars, so, so many of her IDs have her mentioning them, not to mention her tagline. I think an Abno who knows far more than it lets on, powerful, letting itself into humanity, coming to love them, but never being one, is dreadfully fitting.

Yi Sang - Funeral of the Dead Butterflies

FotDB is an Abnormality born from the pain and suffering of.. Lobotomy Corporation, actually! It’s a mourner who is rumored to wandering the halls of the facility with a coffin for those who are bound to be lost, an early mourning for those who are destined to die, and an incomplete sorrow for those already gone, the coffin too small to fit them all, unable to fall asleep or escape. The ending of the log decides that there is no escape, these butterflies are damned to wait, because there “must be an end to every world.”

I think, just like with Gregor’s case, although the original Abnormality is directly tied to L. Corp, in a more general definition, it is about the pain and sorrow of those inevitable deaths born from things such as K corp, or the Smoke War. Cases of people’s lives being thrown away and devalued, not given proper burials, no home to escape to, a fate to dying here, leaving the mourning to the others in the same situation who simply “lucked out.” In Yi Sang’s case, an “ending for every world,” feels very deliberate to the “world,” in which he was locked up in a cage, passively awaiting the days for it to end, one way or another, only to realize he was able to walk out, that the door was never locked. Yi Sang’s grief and attachment to the League of Nine, the only person who seems to grieve over those loses, alone, carrying that pain wherever he goes. In that sense, “an ending to every world,” could also be turned into a guaranteed ending of things he loved as well. There is more to be said, but this one seems very obvious.

Ryōshū - Spider Bud / One sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds / Scorched Girl / Bloodbath / Big and Will be Bad Wolf

(Oh my God girl. Do you need that many???)

Spider Bud is an Abno that is deeply protective of her babies, quite literally her alternative name being “brood mother,” she reacts negatively and violent if an Agent hurts or steps on her children

Ryōshū has gotten this Abno thrice now. It’s gotta be important, and yeah, it is! This is born purely from her Source, but Yoshihide’s tragedy is losing his daughter, Spider Bud’s entire gimmick is being peaceful (as an Abno can be) unless someone hurts her children, she stalks and watches and exacts revenge against those people. I didn’t want to bring in Uptie stories, but Ryōshū’s uncharacteristic gentleness to the spiderlings who nip at her is really.. striking. Once again, this one feels kind of.. duh, so I won’t go much deeper into it.

One Sin is an Abnormality with the purpose of being confessed to, to relieve one of their sins, it’s tied to religion to Hell’s screen gimmick of.. Hell.. feels, yes, but I feel as though this is more general and disingenuous from One Sin’s connection to Christianity while Hell’s screen is about Buddhism’s hell. Instead this felt more interlined to Parallel Gebura. A lot of people have jumped on this for power scaling fun, but! I think it’s important to realize why Carmen would’ve said “At least similar in this regard,” my take is that a huge aspect of Gebura’s woes in Lobcorp was her unable to protect those she loved. Given Yoshihide’s tragedy here, unable to protect his daughter. I think that is the aim that makes the most sense right now with how very little we have about Ryōshū.

Scorched Girl is another Abnormality she’s already gotten, all in all, SG lives on a sense of angered revenge and self destruction. Her logs depict her to be torn in two from her desire of affection to one of wishing harm on others.

Her attempt at hurting others involves hurting herself, which lines up with Yoshihide’s ending, of his natural self destructiveness, how he makes his art and his death. Her rage also lines up with Ryōshū’s, a want to have back warmth, love she’s lost, but only able to be a match of destruction.

Bloodbath, we already covered this in Outis’ section! I think Outis and Ryōshū naturally align similarly, (Hong Lu, Mr. “Horrific family” isn’t ever the one getting cold or aloof to mentions of family or parents or children, it’s only ever these two!) A guilt of unable to succeed despite how much you gave up and sacrificed, including others And to lose those you love, the hands in the water being everyone you’ve ever loved, by your own faults.

Finally, Big and Will be Bad Wolf! The Abnormality is about being set up from birth being one way. From the way society sees you, you will always be what they depict you as. The Abnormality doesn’t feel remorse over the violence it causes, because it was “inevitable” he’d turn out this way. Who is he to blame nature? Regardless of nurture.

This one is the most hard to really fit without going “well, just a hunch.” I think this could be in regards to Yoshihide’s further and further acts of violence and pain to others around him, but unable to feel that remorse (until it is too late) because he was born with this way. He was “born” an “artist.” Who is he to defy things sacrificed for art? He is unable to be anything but cruel and vindictive, and he doesn’t try to be.

Well, that’s everything I could remember off the top of my head! Apologies if it starts to get a little weaker by the end, I’ve been typing for hours. In general, there’s more I could say or conclude, but, because of how loose Abnos are in concept, as well as how most of these Sinners (everyone but Yi Sang…) haven’t had their cantos yet, it leaves a lot of assumptions built upon their sources and short behavior ticks we’ve seen them display. I won’t say these are confirmed or sure fire takes but more so a jumping off point in fathoming these choices.

[beenbaanbuun]

blood w/ poly!ateez

so i feel so sane about this… definitely no evil thoughts filling up my brain right now. none whatsoever :)

i want to write so much more about this universe and i’m literally sending the biggest kiss ever to @ateez-main-yapper to requesting this because i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life!

words - idk

genre - smut, horror (there’s a bit of gore i guess)

warnings - vampire!ateez, mafia!ateez, human!reader, smuggler!reader, blood, scarification, collars, ownership, blood, surgery mentions, nicknames (little mouse, princess, sweetheart), dancer!yeosang, security guard!mingi, ripper!doctor!yunho, mommy!seonghwa (don’t look at me like that, i had to), hand kink (mentioned), no actual sex but it’s talked about a lot, hair pulling, i think that’s all??

——————————————————————————

the scent of stale blood haunts the hallway you find yourself walking down, clinging to the back of your throat until yourself gagging on it. no matter how many times you find yourself down here, it never gets any easier to cope with; even a slaughterhouse would be more pleasant than this.

it begs the question why you’re back. by now, you’ve bled them of enough money to never have to work again, so it’s certainly not the pay. the job itself is harder than most, and not at all rewarding when you have to lie and cheat your way into success. there’s no doubt that the stress of hiding a smuggling operation behind the guise of a blood donation clinic has taken a good 20 years of your life from you. you can guarantee that job satisfaction isn’t what’s keeping you here either.

it’s only when you turn a corner and your eyes land upon them that you remember exactly why you’re still so willing to walk these halls. it isn’t something keeping you here but rather someone; multiple someones, in fact.

“mingi!” your footsteps quicken as you get closer the security guard that stands waiting outside of a heavy metal door. despite the fact that you’ve been on the other side of it multiple times, it still sends a shiver of curiosity down your spine. it’s not an anxious curiosity as it was when you first landed yourself in this position, but more of a morbid one. you know the horrors that lie behind it, you’ve experienced a few of them too, yet you still yearn to see more. “long time no see,” you offer a polite smile once you’re close enough to lower your volume from a shout, “san told me hongjoong had assigned you to pest control. is it not going well?”

mingi gives you a slow blink, his jaw set in stone and his eyes steely as he stares you down. he’s always looked far more intimidating than he actually is, although you suppose it serves to his benefit when his main job it scaring away anyone who might wish to disturb the peace. you’re only grateful to have had the chance to see behind the mask he wears; to watch his eyes melt and his lips part in the wonky grin he gets so little time to wear.

“you’ve not seen me in months and the first thing you ask me is about my demotion back to security?” he quirks a brow at you and you have to bite back your grin. in truth, you’d heard all about it from seonghwa over the past few weeks, your main contact within the clan more than happy to share life details with you as though you’re a lifelong friend rather than a mere employee. their favourite employee, sure, but still at the bottom of the pecking order.

“i just wanted to know more,” you lift your arms in defence, not missing the way his eyes flicker to the bandage on your left forearm, “like you said, it’s been a while.”

mingi hums in agreement as he examines the clean cloth. a long finger reaches out to trace the spot where the fabric meets your skin, the touch lingering and soft. it’s more the real mingi than it is the security guard mingi; it warms your heart to see.

“when did this happen?” he whispers, voice barely above a whisper.

“about two weeks ago,” you i pull your wrist back, letting mingi’s hand drop back down to his side, “hongjoong wanted to approach me about it, but i didn’t take much convincing,” actually, it was you who approached him but for some reason that’s much harder to admit, “you guys are much… kinder to me than the other clans i supply, well, supplied to. it was a no brainer to ditch them when given the chance.”

“so you’re ours?” he asks, voice dipping a little too low for the question to be purely innocent.

“i’m mine,” you confirm, “what i supply, however, is all yours.”

there’s a smirk on his lips, not as easily defeated by your sense of self worth as you’d like him to be. he knows as well as the rest of them what the mark on your arm means, after all. he knows as well as you do that there’s no getting away from them now. the moment yunho took his sweet, sadistic time carving their mark into your body it wasn’t just your business that belonged to them.

“sure you are, little mouse,” he whispers as he leans in close, his icy breath fluttering against your face. your stomach drops but you choose to ignore it. this was your decision, after all, “now, scurry along; you wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting, would you?”

with the flip of a switch, the metal door clicks open and your immediately met with a blast of cool air and a wall of sound. you’ll never understand the clan’s need for these constant frivolities, especially when you’re on the other side of this getting your hands dirty, but you suppose it is a good way to hide their more secretive operations. no one is going to notice the door in the corner when there’s so much going on out here, right? it’s an extra layer of security, and a darn good one at that.

when you step inside, the door clicks shut behind you and you immediately get to scanning the crowd of partygoers for a familiar face. amongst the hoard of vampires, they’re harder to spot, their ashy skin and red eyes sticking out a lot less than they would next to a human. instead you look for a familiar hair colour, recalling the angry text you got from seonghwa about the den’s main bathroom turning pink with hongjoong’s hairdye. nothing sticks out at you, though, and so you’re back at square one.

your arms stretch out before you as you go to push through the crowd. it’s moments like this that you’re glad for the metal, almost collar-like band around your neck. yeosang had created it as a way to keep your pulse hidden from any less-well-meaning vampires. he’d insisted that the tag dangling from it with the clan’s emblem engraved was all hongjoong’s idea, but you recognise the same possessive glint in all of their eyes. it’s the same one yunho had given you when engraving that very emblem into your body, and the same one san had given to you when wrapping your bleeding arm up in a fluffy white bandage. yeosang is just like the rest of them, even behind his sweet exterior.

but right now he isn’t crafting some marvel of engineering out of metal scraps and a dream, but instead on the stage at the front of the room. it’s not often he’s up there instead of one of the others, but as you watch him elegantly dangle from a hoop that hangs from the ceiling, you find it hard to see why. he’s utterly ethereal, like a butterfly about to emerge from a chrysalis; one of those blue ones with the wings that seemed designed to capture your attention with their beauty. you’re entranced, much more so than the rest of the party-goers who seem to have grown blind to the creature moving elegantly before them.

his body moves not at all like a butterfly though, instead flowing smoothly like a viper along the branch of a tree. he extends his arms in such a way you’ve never seen before, silken and smooth as he reaches out to his audience. it pulls you in further, your feet shuffling as you push through the final layer of people to get to the stage. you stumble forwards, catching yourself on the edge of the raised platform. if he notices you there, he doesn’t show it; the stoic expression he wears remains steady as he gracefully shifts his body into yet another position.

you watch him like that until the end of his performance, unblinking with your lips parted in awe. even the way he tumbles to the floor and bows to an uninterested audience holds so much more grace than you think you will ever possess. to think that this is the man that spends half of his time smeared in motor oil with a puppy-like grin on his lips is strange, yet it feels so right.

“hello, little mouse,” he echoes the familiar nickname as he makes his way to the front of the stage, crouching down in front of you and running an all-too-confident finger along your jawline to your chin. he snaps your mouth shut in a way that is so far from the yeosang you know that part of you believes this must be his much cockier twin. “hongjoong is out tonight; some trouble on south side caught his attention so he wanted to clean up the mess before the police got there.”

“i’m meeting with seonghwa then?” you murmur, too starstruck for your mouth the form words properly.

yeosang shakes his head.

“seonghwa and san went with him,” the finger from your chin shifts down to the piece of jewellery that fits snug around your neck. his touch catches against the tag, the jingling sound reminding you of a bell on a cats collar. you try to ignore the smirk that rises to his face as sees you make the connection, instead shifting your gaze to the pendant around his neck that shares the same symbol. “yunho is busy with whatever sick shit gets him off, me and mingi are working which means…”

fuck.

“jongho and wooyoung.”

“clever mouse,” yeosang’s tone is venomous, despite his words being soft. clearly performing does something to his ego; inflates it until every sign of the sweet mechanic is hidden behind a thick shroud of confidence. it’s deliciously cruel, mirroring the sick sadism of yunho or the vast overconfidence of mingi, and holy fuck do you want a taste. perhaps later, once business is over.

if business is over.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about those two, though,” he continues, tugging on the tag of your collar—because despite your pride, even you have to admit that there’s no other way to describe it—until you’re face is merely inches from his own, “hongjoong promised yunho their balls if they can’t learn to control them. maybe you’ll finally be able to have a meeting with them before getting your pussy stuffed, hm?”

you feel yourself getting warmer, your face flushing as yeosang so blatantly talks about your track record with the pair of resident trouble makers. it’s not like you’ve let slip about all the times jongho’s had you sitting on his cock with your mouth wrapped around wooyoung’s the second you step into their office which means that they must have instead. it makes you wonder what they talk about whenever you’re not here, and how much each of them know about your less than professional escapades with each of them. it’s a troubling thought, and yet it’s still manages to light a fire deep in your belly.

“see you later, yeosang,” is the only thing you can mumble in response as you pull away from his touch, the tag of the collar bumping gently against your neck as it slips free of his fingers.

——————-

“you told the others about fucking me?” you scoff as you barge your way into the office where the two youngest vampires await your arrival. it’s nice to see them here already, since they usually arrive far later than the agreed upon time. although, you suppose with the delays of mingi and yeosang, you’re also late on this occasion. you let the passive-aggressive comment about time keeping slide, knowing it won’t help you right now.

“hello to you too, mousy,” wooyoung hums from where he lays on the green sofa in the corner of the room, “it’s nice to see you again! we’re doing wonderfully, by the way; thanks for a—”

you let the door slam behind you as you storm your way towards him, completely ignoring the curious gaze of jongho.

“cut the shit, wooyoung,” you grab hold of his shirt collar and lean in close. it’s supposed to be intimidating but the wide grin on his lips lets you know otherwise. “you’ve all been talking about me when i’m not here? what the fuck, man!”

wooyoung chuckles in your face, his dangerous fangs glinting beneath the overhead lights. you know he’d never bite without your permission—people have been killed by hongjoong for much less—but it still sends a shiver through you whenever you see them.

“you’re not exactly discrete yourself, princess,” the office chair creaks as jongho stands, making his way around his desk and towards you. although you keep your gaze firmly on the little rat who still sits giggling to himself, you can’t help but be hyper aware of the presence behind you. a large hand traces its way up your spine, not stopping until you feel his fingers lace themselves with your locks and tug. your grip fall limply from wooyoung’s shirt as you’re hauled back into the soft muscle of jongho’s chest, your neck craned awkwardly over his shoulder to keep you in place. “what do you want us to say when san is asking about who’s cum he’s eaten from your pussy? do you want us to lie to them?”

you squirm, wincing when his grip on your hair doesn’t loosen despite your attempts to break free. they call you little mouse and right now, you really do feel the part—you walked right into a trap of which there’s no way out.

“maybe i should let you fuck me again just so i can watch when yunho rips your fucking balls off your body!” you grunt through gritted teeth.

jongho hums in amusement, “it was hyperbole, sweetheart,” a pair of cold lips meet the hot skin of your cheek for just a second before pulling away, the softness a stark contrast to the harsh grip he still has you in, “he doesn’t care how much we fuck you as long as we get the job done. after all, he’d be a hypocrite to complain about us fucking you when his dick is inside of you twice as often, hm?”

you watch with cautious eyes as wooyoung stands from his place on the sofa, grinning as wide as the cheshire cat. it reeks of danger, yet you’ve never been the type to give into that sort of thing. you’re a human working for a bunch of vampires; danger is just a regular part of your life at this point.

“besides, mousy,” the cheshire cat purrs, “you think we’re the only ones who talk? you don’t think we know just how much you love calling seonghwa mommy when you ride him? or how much you love it when yeosang spits in your mouth whenever he’s fucking you dumb?” wooyoung brings a hand to your cheek, dusting over your bottom lip with his thumb, “you’re ours, little mouse; we can talk if we want.”

[kaitofuji]

ok so i’m seeing a lotta angsty tdb headcanons going around (don’t get me wrong i LOVE them and theyre all literally sosoSO good) but i wanna lighten the mood a bit so im just gonna share some silly/lighthearted hcs i have !! (in no particular order ofc)

- One night when Sho went to the campus store to look for some ingredients he ran into Kaito there, who was ALSO buying some cooking supplies! That’s how he learned that Kaito knows how to bake, and he’s been getting some really good recipes from him ever since! (no Kaito doesn’t know that Sho basically thought he was a cringe loser before 😭)

- Jin suffers from chronic migraines, and that’s the real reason he sound proofed his room, but no one else needs to know that. i mostly have this hc bc i also suffer fron migraines and i wanted to share my pain with one of the ghouls lmao

- Haku is actually really into fashion/styling, but not in the same way as Romeo or Leo are. he likes to go to thrift stores and buy vintage clothes, and he even has a finsta where he posts his outfits! it’s really lowkey and he keeps his face hidden, but he has a pretty decent following on it!

- Towa LOVES bamboo. it’s like one of his favorite plants to snack on! He’s asked Haru to get some for the park but 1) they don’t currently have any anomalous animals that need it and 2) importing bamboo stalks is expensive :(

- Jiro has been told countless times by multiple different people that he has a great voice for asmr. a part of him really wants to try it out, as it’d be another way to help people, but his workload is heavy and keeps him busy. he also thinks that Yuri would find it silly and disapprove of it, so he keeps this little dream to himself

- Sometimes, when Haru is busy with his indoor chores, he lets Peekaboo watch Bluey! And if he has free time he’ll watch it with them lol!! He’ll never admit it to anyone but he secretly looks up to Bandit pfft

- Ritsu has fidget spinners and other stim toys that he uses whenever he studies. it helps him stay focused and even keeps him from getting stressed out whenever he has to deal with his captain and vice captain lmao. he keeps this a secret though bc he thinks taiga and romeo would make fun of him for it (they wouldn’t)

- Tohma is actually allergic to cats! since he’s a ghoul, regular cats like the ones on campus don’t bother him, but any cat-like anomaly he’s ever dealt with has always left him sneezing and with watery irritated eyes lmaooo

- Alan once saw a Cinnamaroll keychain while he was out running errands one day and thought it was so insanely cute that he bought it. He was immediately embarrassed by it though and gave the keychain to some random kid. Cinnamaroll is now his favorite sanrio character.

- Despite living in Obscuary and being a literal Reaper, Rui can NOT handle scary movies. Especially if they’re really gorey. He’s more so disturbed that a regular human would come up with such dark and violent movies, and that there are people out there who are WILLING to watch it.

- Luca has a pet dog back home !! She’s an older German Shepherd with a bit of an attitude lol. She waits at the door for him (and his brother) everyday.

aaand that’s all i got for now lmao!!! i’ll probably post more but this is getting kinda long so i’ll just leave it here lol

[sxcret-garden]

Seonghwa & Yeosang ღ Perfect Boys [M]

ღ Ateez Seonghwa x Yeosang x gn!reader ღ words: ~4.3k ღ genre: smut (sub!Seonghwa, sub!Yeosang, dom!reader, Seonghwa and Yeosang are wearing collars with leashes, reader wears a strap, threesome, handjobs, oral, anal (all idols receiving), praise, some degradation, Seonghwa has a bratty moment, dacryphilia, some cum play, orgasm control, overstimulation, a hint of dumbification, safe word being used (green)) ღ reader: wears a strap, no description of physical features, no pronouns used ღ warnings: none

Author’s note: I don’t even know what happened here but enjoy 4k words of pure filth I guess <3

With a tight grip on his leash, you part Seonghwa’s lips with your tongue, making out with him sloppily as you dominate the kiss. You leave him breathless when you part, and you can’t but marvel at the sight in front of you. He stays in the moment, savouring the feeling of your kiss and the flame of passion it has kindled inside of him, and only a few seconds after you parted from him does he open his eyes. The pleading look in them only makes you hunger for more, but you don’t want the other man kneeling right beside Seonghwa to feel neglected. So you turn to Yeosang, giving his leash a gentle tug, and you admire the stoic expression on his face that only gives way to a shallow gasp as you turn your attention to him. You kiss him as well, the taste of Seonghwa’s mouth still lingering on your tongue, and as it mixes with Yeosang’s, calmness washes over you. You part from his lips after a more chaste kiss, and you sit back at the foot of the bed to look them both up and down, as they’re quite literally on their knees for you. 

“How am I gonna play with you today, my loves?” you speak, your voice soft and your intentions not yet clear. They both stare up at you in anticipation, and you relish in their attention, wondering what orders to give each of them.

This is your secret playtime. Once the door to this room is locked and their collars are snugly wrapped around their throats, they’re yours. Loyal and obedient, and willing to do whatever it takes to please you.

You drop their leashes, and you gesture for them to turn to each other.

“Give me a little show,” you demand, and Seonghwa is the first one to turn his head to the side. They know what you want to see, it’s not the first time you’ve made them do this, and still it is exciting to watch them rile each other up under your command anew every single time you play. Seonghwa is also the one to initiate the kiss, plush lips nipping at Yeosang’s carefully, and you can’t tear your gaze away. You can see the way Seonghwa slips the tip of his tongue inside the other’s mouth for a short moment, and Yeosang shuts his eyes tightly, reaching out for the other man’s hand that’s cupping his cheek. You know Seonghwa can get eager, while Yeosang likes to take things slow, and the way the latter’s ears take on a shade of bright red amuses you. They part for a second, giving Yeosang a chance to breathe, but when the older one goes in for a deeper kiss, he can’t but moan into his mouth. You watch them make out for a while, struggling to find the right pace, but eventually they fall into a comfortable rhythm, and you can visibly see Yeosang’s shoulders relaxing as he clings to the other guy who’s slowly trying to get on top of him. 

“You two are doing so well…” you grant them some praise, and almost instantly both of them become more eager to please you with what they’re doing. Your gaze takes in their shapes, following the lines on their bodies and watching their muscles dance under the skin as they continuously move in tune with each other, until finally Seonghwa is about to push Yeosang to the ground underneath him, and you stop them.

“That’s enough,” you say, and you don’t miss the way it takes the older of the two great effort to tear himself away. Both panting with a blush dusted onto their faces, you pat the blanket of the queen sized bed you’re comfortably sitting on. “Come up here.” Surprise is painted into their faces - they both know how rare it is for you to invite them into bed with you so early, but neither of them hesitates to do as told.

“Yeo…” you call out to him. “I think I wanna start with you today.” His lips part to give way for an inaudible gasp, and you direct him to sit in front of Seonghwa, with his back flush against the other’s chest. “Relax,” you breathe as you kneel in front of them, placing one palm onto the younger’s bare chest and pushing him just a little further back. Seonghwa places his hands on his waist, his lips hovering above Yeosang’s sensitive neck, and you wonder if you should give him permission to do what he’s very obviously waiting to do. One look at the younger’s face, and you decide that for now you want to have him to yourself.

“Behave,” you order, as you shoot Seonghwa a sharp look, and he lifts his head up so as not to get tempted. Then you cup Yeosang’s face with both of your hands, making him look right at you, and the shy expression in his eyes makes you chuckle.

“You’re so cute, Yeo,” you mutter, leaning in and brushing your lips against his. “Let me show you how much I adore you.” He relaxes more easily as you kiss him compared to when Seonghwa did, starting out slow and careful, and gradually building up the intensity of the kiss - just how you know he likes it. Letting your tongue lick into his mouth, your fingertips begin dancing down his torso, and when you drag your nails down his abs, he mewls into your kiss. You respond with a moan of your own to show appreciation for the pretty sounds he makes, until eventually you part to allow for him to catch his breath momentarily. “You’re so perfect,” you whisper, before you reconnect your lips to his, and then you bring your hand back up to wrap it around his throat. Applying some pressure to put him in a light chokehold, you’re satisfied with the look in his half-lidded eyes once you part again. You know it takes him a little longer than Seonghwa to truly relax during times like these, so you want to do your best to ease him into the scene. 

“Y/N…” the older calls out to you now. A question that he doesn’t dare say out loud lies in his pleading gaze, and when he licks his lips seductively it’s hard to find it in you to say no. However, you know Yeosang isn’t fully ready yet, so you put your palm against Seonghwa’s cheek and you lean in to give him a passionate kiss.

“Soon, Hwa,” you promise. “Be nice and I’ll let you have all the fun you want later on.”

“Okay,” Seonghwa mouths, and in his stead, you attach your lips to Yeosang’s throat. You trailing soft kisses down the side of it makes him whimper, and you place a palm right onto his chest to feel his heartbeat quicken.

“F-feels good…” he mutters, and you find yourself grinning at his words.

“That’s good, Yeo,” you say. “Wanna make you feel soooo good today.” You drag your nails down his abdomen and feel him shiver, and he lets you hear the sweetest whine when your hand passes by his core and instead comes to a halt on top of his thigh. “What do you want, baby boy?” you ask, and you sit up so as to look him right in the eyes. He averts his gaze in embarrassment, and you bury your face in his neck once again, mumbling, “Maybe you’re not ready yet for that?”

“I-” Yeosang chokes on his words when you move your hand back up to his stomach, grazing his hardening dick in the process, and right next to your ear you can hear Seonghwa letting out a curse. You give him a look that acts as a warning, before turning back to the person in between you two.

“You…? What is it, baby boy?” You feel the urge to tease him a bit, and just as he opens his mouth to try to speak, you let your fingertips graze his length again. 

“Hnng…” He bites his tongue, still looking away from you.

“I think you need someone to shut up that pretty little head of yours, don’t you?” you guess, and though it’s barely visible, Yeosang nods. “Well…” you bring some distance between the both of you, and then you find Seonghwa’s hands that are still resting on the other guy’s sides to lead them up to his chest. Yeosang squirms a little when the older’s cool fingertips find his nipples, but as soon as he begins playing with them, he lets out a shaky moan and relaxes against Seonghwa’s chest.

“Y/N… can I?” Seonghwa asks once again, and seeing the blissful expression on the younger’s face, you finally give him the okay. He doesn’t hesitate to attach his lips to the neck of the guy in front of him, sucking and biting and lapping at the side of it, drawing a string of heavenly moans from Yeosang’s mouth.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Yeo?” you ask, thumb brushing against his lips. 

“Mhm…” he merely mewls in response, and you smile at him.

“That’s good,” you say, leaning in to kiss him, this time being quick to deepen the kiss, and he lets you without showing any resistance. Just before you pull away, you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, starting to slowly jerk him off. “That feel good?”

“Y-yeah…” he desperately whines, his hips bucking into your hand. You crawl into his lap in response, using your weight to keep him from doing that.

“Can’t even stay still now, huh?” you tease him, moving your hand up and down painfully slowly. With your strap already securely attached to your hips, you wonder whether you should push him some more, of if he needs more time to let himself be fucked stupid. You tighten the grip on his length just a little when you reach his tip, but even just this much has him arching his back, moaning at your and Seonghwa’s hands pleasuring him, while the latter is also busy sucking marks into his skin. You decide it’d be fitting to do the same - after all, he’s your baby boy, and not Seonghwa’s. So you lean in to attach your lips to the skin covering his chest, leaving a few kisses here and there while wandering south slowly, and eventually starting to suckle on a spot above his abs. His breathing has gotten heavier, and as you’re forced to slide off his lap to reach where you want to reach with your lips, he immediately bucks his hips into your fist again.

“You really needed this, huh?” you assume as you sit up, letting go of his cock and earning yourself a pained sound of protest. However, when Seonghwa pinches his nipples a little harsher, Yeosang immediately quiets down. 

“Good boy,” you say, directed at the both of them, really. You bring your hand down to his hole, and he immediately adjusts his position to give you easier access. Raking the fingers of your other hand through his hair, you continue, “So ready to be taken by me today, hm? That’s what I like to see.” One digit slipping past his rim easily, you watch him shudder at the sensation, and when you pull out again, Yeosang dares to glance at you. 

“Hwa, hands off him,” you order, and he begrudgingly obeys. You reach over to where you keep your lube, getting a generous amount of it on your hand, before you commence working the boy in front of you open. 

“F-feels so good…” he continuously mewls as you fit two, then three fingers into his tight hole, and you watch the blissful expression on his face with awe. 

“Can’t wait to make you cum on my cock, baby boy…” you mutter, momentarily getting a little carried away yourself, but when Seonghwa reaches for Yeosang’s length you snap right out of it.

“Or we make you cum on the spot, hm?” Seonghwa growls, Yeosang’s breath hitching at the added stimulation of the other man playing with his dick. “See if you can even keep it in before Y/N starts fucking you properly…”

“Hey,” you give Seonghwa a warning, though you must admit being a little mean sounds very tempting to you as well. However, you hear Yeosang mutter,

“C-can take it… I’ll take it, I swear…” His determination makes heat rush to your own core, and with Seonghwa’s gaze resting on you, prompting you to make a decision, you think for a short moment.

“Hwa,” you call out to him eventually. “Keep going then. He said he can take it.” Seeing how the younger immediately starts to shiver and cry out as Seonghwa’s slender fingers begin working him up to his high, you don’t actually believe he can, but now he will have to live with the consequences of his actions. And he knows just as well as you and Seonghwa do, that you won’t be happy if you don’t even get to properly fuck him before he spills all over himself. 

Yet he keeps at least some degree of self control - maybe it helps that the older is now more focused on jerking him off than on tending to his neck - and so you position yourself to push up into him.

“Sangie, are you ready?” you ask, and he nods vigorously. Chuckling at his need, you thrust your hips, watching as the toy strapped to your hips disappears a little further in his hole with each repetition of your movements. 

“Fuck-” You can’t say you’re not proud of yourself when you manage to lure a curse out of Yeosang, a rare occurance indeed, and you signal Seonghwa to up his speed a bit. The latter too seems more than affected by the situation, after all he must be able to feel the friction of Yeosang’s lower back moving against him with each time you thrust in and out of him.

“Stay focused, Hwa,” you remind him, “we’ll get to you in a second…” Then you lean in to press a sloppy kiss against Yeosang’s jaw, who is turning into a mewling, crying mess in between you and Seonghwa.

“Y/N… please…p-please…!” he slurs his words, but you don’t slow down.

“You can cum if you want,” you mutter, taking in his features and if you’re being quite honest, you could also cum from the sight alone. A few more thrusts and he comes undone, spilling into Seonghwa’s fist as a broken moan falls from his lips, and you come to a halt, carefully pulling out of him. You cup his face in your hands, a single tear falling from his cheek, and you wipe it away with your thumb.

“You’re so perfect…” you mutter, leaning in and placing a kiss onto his chest, tasting the thin layer of sweat that covers his skin on your lips. “I want to ruin you completely. Are you green?” Yeosang nods, repeating back to you,

“‘M green…” With Seonghwa shooting you an impatient look that’s probably supposed to ask something along the lines of “And what about me?”, you reach your hand out to comb your fingers through his black locks.

“I could ruin the both of you, actually…” you mutter, excitement sparking in your chest as you think about it. Seonghwa’s eyes become soft, and with a gesture of your chin towards him, you prompt him to speak.

“I think… we deserve that,” he says, and you chuckle at his words.

“Then lie down first of all. Help me out and I’ll wreck you too,” you offer, an almost wicked expression on your face now, and Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate.

“I will.” His voice shakes as he answers - as much as he likes to sometimes push your limits, at the end of the day he too is just another pretty set of holes who wants nothing more but to be ruined by you. You direct Yeosang to sit on the other’s face, and without having to give Seonghwa any orders, he’s already putting his skilled tongue to use. Yeosang shivers upon feeling the warm, wet muscle prodding at his rim, and you steady him, kneeling above Seonghwa’s chest.

“You’re doing well, baby boy,” you praise Yeosang, before you share a slow and gentle kiss with him, feeling him relax under your touch. You find one of his hands, guiding it towards his core and eventually wrapping it around his softened cock.

“Get yourself off,” you whisper against his lips, but Yeosang hesitates. “What? Still too sensitive?” He nods, and with another short kiss to his lips, you say, “You can take it.” He sucks in a sharp breath when you guide his hand into the movement you want, and with the other guy lapping at his hole eagerly, Yeosang can’t say anything. And though he’s clearly getting overstimulated, he’s not safe wording you, so you tell him to keep going as you move away from him, so as to position yourself in between Seonghwa’s legs. Always keeping an eye on Yeosang, you make sure he doesn’t stop touching himself.

“Keep going, Yeo,” you say, sounding somewhat strict, and he immediately nods.

“O-okay,” he mutters, letting out a moan as a pained expression sits on his face. With knitted eyebrows, he does his best to obey, while also watching you, but his thighs are trembling, and eventually he tries to escape the older’s tongue instinctively. However, Seonghwa is quick to reach out to force Yeosang back down, and you can tell he’s eager to please you. 

“Doing so well, the two of you,” you praise them, before you lower yourself and you leave a trail of kisses down Seonghwa’s stomach. You can hear him letting out a moan, subsequently making Yeosang shiver on top of him, and it only makes you want to hear more. You sink your teeth into his skin, working your way further down, and eventually your lips hover above his hip bone.

“Gonna leave a mark on you too, baby boy,” you mutter, earning yourself another moan from Seonghwa, and then from Yeosang too. And so you get to work, alternating between sucking on the skin and licking it to soothe it, until you’re satisfied with the outcome. “Hwa…” you call out to him, not missing the increasingly desperate expression on the younger’s face as his dick has grown back to its full length, and he’s trying not to reach his next high too quickly. But you know he can hold back for a while longer, and you also know he won’t cum unasked, so for now you decide to direct your attention towards the older, with his hard cock right in front of your face. You wrap your fingers around the base, and with a chaste kitten lick across his tip, you test his reaction - and you’re not unhappy about it. Because the second your warm muscle comes in contact with him, he too shivers, and he lets out a needy moan that once again Yeosang reacts to as well. Getting high off of the control you have over both of them, you don’t hesitate to wrap your lips around Seonghwa’s head wholly, swirling your tongue around it a few times, before you start slowly bobbing your head up and down on top of him. And with each desperate sound either of the two men make, you only become more eager to get them both off.

“Y/N…” Yeosang calls out eventually, his voice shaking. “I’m so close…” You lift your head for but a moment to answer,

“Then take your hand away from your pretty cock, baby boy. Don’t you dare cum before Hwa.” He does as told, and though with Seonghwa’s tongue all up inside of him it is still only a matter of time until he can’t keep it in any longer, this will still at least give him some more time until he breaks. As for you, you go back to tending to Seonghwa, sucking him off in just the way he likes most, and with how noisy he’s getting you know that he too is drawing closer and closer to the edge. That’s when he finally starts bucking his hips up into your mouth, and you gag a little when he hits the back of your throat suddenly. You let him slip out of your mouth as you lift your head, letting your hand take over, and enjoying the way he rapidly loses control.

“Such a whore…” you say, watching in amusement as he becomes more and more desperate by the second, and you know he’s so so close. “Look at you, having your face buried in one person’s ass, while you’re trying to fuck the face of another. Aren’t you greedy?” You’re sure that if he could talk right now, he’d agree with you, but like this all he can do is moan incessantly, with Yeosang holding on for dear life on top of him. You move your hand up and down Seonghwa’s length at a relentless speed, knowing that a little overstimulation is sure to throw him off the edge in no time. “Such a greedy whore…” you repeat, and along with your degrading words, he comes undone, spilling his seed all over himself. “Keep going,” you say, not letting him rest just yet, and then you crawl towards Yeosang, reaching for his cock and swiftly licking the precum off his tip, before taking him in whole. It takes you and Seonghwa but a few strokes of your tongues to have him coming undone as well, and warmth rushes to your core as you feel him spilling inside your mouth. You let Yeosang collapse on his back as he tries to catch his breath, but with you now on top of Seonghwa, you grab his jaw harshly, and you press your lips against his. Parting them with ease, you pass Yeosang’s load onto the other guy, the taste of it mixing with the taste of Seonghwa’s mouth, and when you sit back up, you watch as he swallows it without protest.

“Good boy,” you praise him, fingers combing through his hair. You reach for one of the towels you had prepared in advance to clean Seonghwa’s cum off his stomach, and then you give them both a few moments to rest.

“I’m not done with you two,” you mutter. You make Yeosang get on all fours, trailing a few kisses down along his spine before reaching for Seonghwa’s leash and guiding him closer. 

“You wanna fuck him?” you ask. “While I fuck you?” 

“Yes,” he breathes, anticipation making his voice shake. 

“Then get to it,” you order, and once again you can’t peel your gaze off of the two as Seonghwa slips two fingers into Yeosang’s hole, stuffing some more lube inside just in case, and as the younger waits patiently, a blush creeping back onto his cheeks, Seonghwa gives himself a few strokes until he’s hard and ready to go. There’s pink dusted onto his cheeks as well, and with only a few thrusts he’s snugly fitted inside the younger.

“Good. Now hold still…” The mewl Seonghwa lets out when your lubed up fingers come in contact with his ass is like music to your ears, and you take your time stretching him out.

“Please…” A single word slips past Seonghwa’s lips as he’s getting impatient, but you hold him back, wanting to tease him just a bit more. When you curl your fingers inside of him, grazing his walls so perfectly, he moans your name, and his hips snap forward as if they were moving by themselves, making Yeosang groan as well. 

“Not so eager…” you say, placing your free hand onto Seonghwa’s waist to keep him still. 

“I’m sorry…” he apologizes, his voice sounding strained with need.

“So cute…” you breathe as you work your fingers inside of him a little longer, and he forces himself to stay still, even though you can tell it’s taking everything out of him. “You’re both so cute…” And then finally you pull out, and Seonghwa shivers when he feels the tip of your strap prodding at his entrance. You push inside with ease, and a few slow thrusts already have both of them groaning and mewling and shaking for you. 

“Shit, you’re perfect…” you praise them through gritted teeth as you pick up speed, and their voices form a melody filled with pleasure, you wish it would never end. And with you fucking both of them like this, neither of you three is bound to last long. The first one to break is Seonghwa.

“C-can I cum? Please… please, can’t hold it in…” And it’s not like you can blame him in his position, but still you don’t want to give him the okay just yet. So you reach for his hand and guide it towards Yeosang, and once Seonghwa’s fingers are wrapped around the younger’s cock, his moans too are becoming more and more desperate.

“P-please, Y/N…” he too is begging for permission to cum now, and with how close you too are to your high, you can’t but grant them their releases.

“Cum for me, my perfect boys…” you say through gritted teeth, and almost on command, Seonghwa breaks, then Yeosang follows suit, and lastly, as the overstimulation is already building up for the two of them, you too reach your high, feeling your whole body shake from all the sensations coursing through it.

You watch as both Seonghwa and Yeosang collapse onto the bed, side by side, both looking completely spent and fucked out. You can’t but find the sight adorable, and you give them a hand with cleaning themselves up a bit, before you find your place in the middle. With you sitting up, you let both of them rest their head on one of your thighs, playing with their hair.

“You did so well for me today,” you praise them as you can feel them melting under your gentle touch. “My two perfect boys.”

[ninjatrashpanda]

The Other Shoe (Waiting for it to drop)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Today's prompt is "Coming Out Scenes!"

Read it on AO3 here.

“I, uh, I think it’s time to face the music,” Buck whispered, tugging on Tommy’s sleeve. His eyes wandered over to his parents, who had watched him and Tommy like hawks throughout the entire reception, though Buck had a hard time predicting what they were thinking. On one hand, therapy had been going well, and while The Buckleys would probably never be the big happy family Buck had wished for as a kid, Mom and Dad were trying. They had been nothing but supportive about him being Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor last year, and Buck would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a pang of appreciation when they had stood up for him against Chimney’s father and stepmother.

On the other hand, well, these were his parents, and old fears die hard. While they had apologized for how they had treated him and Maddie and become better, there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him they’d just be disappointed again. The fact that his mother hadn’t managed to get rid of the bewildered look on her face since he had dragged Tommy into Chimney’s hospital room didn’t help.

“Should I be scared?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck chuckled, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale. He stole another glance at his parents, then shifted his gaze to the floor, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust. “Nah,” he said, though he admittedly wasn’t even able to convince himself of that. “Not scared. Just... prepared.”

Tommy followed Buck’s gaze across the room, where Buck’s parents stood stiffly by a wall, half-empty champagne flutes clutched tightly in their hands. Buck knew they had been mingling just a few minutes ago, but he still couldn’t help but feel that they looked, well, out of place. While they were nothing but polite, they didn’t really mesh with anyone else, and always seemed a little awkward.

“They don’t seem like they bite,” Tommy observed, in that casual, dry tone Buck had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks. In an instant, a part of his anxiety evaporated and bubbled to the surface in a barely held back snort.

“Not literally, no.” Buck ran a hand through his hair with a shake of his head, the slight smile Tommy had brought to his face staying on his face. “It’s just... history, you know? They’re trying, and I get that, I do. But sometimes it’s like...” He trailed off with a shrug, struggling to find the right words. “It’s like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tommy nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze Buck’s. Buck had told him the basics, how Maddie had practically raised him, how their parents had been neglectful and controlling. He vaguely knew about Daniel, too, though Buck hadn’t delved into the whole Savior Baby thing yet. The subject was…touchy, to say the least, and while he knew he had to breach it at some point, he wanted Tommy to have as neutral an opinion on his parents as possible. They were putting in the effort, so Buck figured they deserved that much.

“Well,” Tommy said, squeezing Buck’s hand again, a bit firmer this time, “if things get weird, you’ve got me for backup. Just say the word, and I’ll distract them with my fake mouth static.”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, which surprised even himself. Tommy had a knack for diffusing tension, and Buck was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he had gravitated toward him in the first place. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand, drawing strength from the contact, before letting go and straightening up.

“Good idea. You’re renowned for your fake mouth static after all.”

“Damn right I am.”

They stood there for a moment, neither quite willing to take the first step towards the inevitable conversation. The reception was starting to wind down, (because the nurses were kicking people out now) so at least if this developed into a scene, not too many people would end up seeing. Chimney, now recovering well after the whole viral encephalitis debacle, was in high spirits, chatting animatedly with Hen and Karen. Maddie was close by his side, smiling brighter than he had ever seen, seemingly refusing to let go of her new husband’s arm.

The love between them gave Buck a tiny surge of courage. If Maddie and Chimney could find happiness after everything they had been through, then maybe things could work out with his and Maddie’s parents too.

“Alright,” Buck said, straightening his posture, bracing himself for impact. “Let’s do this.”

They crossed the room together, Tommy a step behind Buck, offering silent support. Buck’s parents straightened as he approached, their faces neutral masks. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and Buck could hardly blame them for that.

“Hi,” Buck said, forcing a smile. “You probably have a few questions.”

His mother’s eyes softened, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in them. His father cleared his throat, his grip on the champagne flute tightening just slightly. The atmosphere was stiff, and the air felt thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Hi, Buck,” his mother replied, her voice wavering just a bit. Buck was actually (positively) surprised that she used his nickname, though he had to admit it sounded almost foreign in her voice. “Yes, we, uh…” She glanced at his father, who nodded, urging her to continue. “We do have some questions, but—”

“We don’t want to push,” his father interjected, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re just… trying to understand.”

Buck nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. They weren’t throwing accusations and bad faith arguments around, so that was a good start. Still, Buck knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. He hadn’t spoken about the big B yet, after all.

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite outgrown. “I figured. And, uh, it’s okay to ask. I know this is… a lot.”

He could see the moment his mother tried to put on a brave face, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were surprised, that’s all,” she said. “When you came into the room with…”

She trailed off, her eyes moving over Buck’s shoulder to where he knew Tommy stood just a foot or two behind him. He took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had thought about it for weeks at this point, had said it out loud to himself in the mirror, but not to anybody else, not even Maddie or Tommy.

“Tommy.” He turned slightly, reaching out his hand out to Tommy, who took it into his own with a smile as he stepped up. “Mom, Dad, this is Tommy Kinard. He’s my date. He, uh… he’s the reason I figured out that I’m bisexual.”

The words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Buck could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears almost deafening. He knew this moment was pivotal (one of the most important in his life, probably) and the weight of it pressed down on him like the world on Atlas’ shoulders.

His parents exchanged glances, and Buck could see an onslaught of emotions flitting across their faces: surprise, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of something that could be hope. His mother’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, and his father took a small step closer to her.

Tommy, for his part, stayed by Buck’s side, his presence a quiet but powerful anchor. He gave Buck’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise that he was here, and that he wouldn’t leave. Buck was grateful for that; it reminded him that no matter what was going to happen, he wasn’t alone.

His mother was the first to speak. “Bisexual,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Her brow furrowed slightly, but there was no trace of anger or disappointment in her tone. Instead, she seemed...curious. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”

Buck could see his father’s jaw tighten momentarily before he let out a slow breath. “Buck,” he began, his voice careful, deliberate. “This is…this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that we’re listening. We’re trying to understand.”

Buck nodded. This wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t exactly acceptance either, not yet, at least. Still, it was something, and in this moment, something was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a lot,” Buck said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to get it all at once. I only figured it out a few weeks ago, too. I just wanted you to know, because…because it’s who I am. And Tommy… he’s important to me.”

His mother’s eyes softened at that, and Buck could see her shifting, recalibrating her thoughts, trying to process this new piece of information about her son. “Tommy,” she said, as if tasting the name for the first time. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and there was something in her gaze that was almost…gentle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, his usual confidence replaced by an almost shy nervousness. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Buckley. And Mr. Buckley,” he added, nodding respectfully toward Buck’s father.

Buck’s father gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained unreadable. “Tommy,” he repeated, his voice a bit more measured. “You’re… Buck’s boyfriend?”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. Obviously that question would come up. He should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. He and Tommy hadn’t even really had that conversation. He’d certainly like for Tommy to be his boyfriend, he just wasn’t sure if Tommy was at that point yet. It had only been a few weeks after all. They had been on four dates, one of which was a complete disaster, and another that hadn’t even been a date at first, but an apology for the date that had been a complete disaster.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, his tone steady. “I’m his boyfriend. And I know this might be surprising, but Evan…he means a lot to me. I care about him.”

Buck’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Tommy to say it outright. He had expected a lighthearted “Not yet” or “We’re seeing each other.” That he’d gone right ahead… Buck’s heart swelled just a little bit. He squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter, grateful beyond words. Tommy’s answer made Buck just a little braver.

Finally, his mother spoke again. “I…I see,” she said, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. She looked at Buck, her eyes searching his, as if trying to reconcile the son she knew with these new things she was learning about him. “And you… you’re happy?”

Buck felt a lump rise in his throat. It was such a simple question, but it carried so much baggage. She wasn’t asking if he was happy with Tommy. She was asking if he was happy with himself, something that would’ve been absolutely unthinkable just three years ago.

“I am,” Buck replied, his voice growing more assured. “I’m happy, Mom. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

His mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision within herself. She reached out then, tentatively, her hand hovering in the air for a moment before she placed it on Buck’s arm. “That’s all we want, Buck,” she whispered, her voice wavering a little. “We just want you to be happy.”

His father, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat again. “It’s…a lot to adjust to,” he admitted, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But if this is who you are, and if this man makes you happy, then…well, we’ll do our best to understand.”

Buck felt a surge of relief wash over him, so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was something. Something good. It was yet another step toward healing their relationship, and for that, he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for not, like, freaking out.”

His father gave a small nod, and his mother’s hand tightened on his arm, a silent reassurance that they were, in fact, trying. Tommy smiled and wrapped his arm around Buck’s shoulders, Buck leaning into his side almost automatically, enjoying the warmth of their connection.

His mother glanced over at Tommy, her expression softening further. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner before we fly back to Hershey, Tommy,” she said, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “We’d like to get to know you better.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the invitation, and Buck didn’t blame him. It was already unusual that Tommy had met his parents this early, but getting invited to family dinner? That was big. “I’d love to, Mrs. Buckley. Thank you.”

Buck’s father gave a curt nod, not quite ready to add anything further, but his stance had relaxed just a little. There was still a long way to go, a lot of conversations to be had, but in that moment, Buck knew they were moving in the right direction.

As the reception continued to wind down, Buck stood there with Tommy by his side, his parents before him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a cautious sense of optimism. The journey ahead would be challenging, there was no doubt about that, but they were all still here, still trying, and that was more than Buck could have hoped for when he first approached them.

As they exchanged a few more words, lighter now, less fraught with tension, Buck realized that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Not just acceptance, but the willingness to grow, to move forward together. And maybe that was enough to help the wounds of the past heal.

[zukkacore]

Kinda realized that I don’t think I ever have Jace acknowledge directly one time that Porter killed him. He’s mentioned his death and being cornered with a choice. He refers to Porter putting the shatterstar in his chest. To Porter changing him. To being resurrected. He refers to Porter “fucking him over” multiple times (in fact that’s usually how I refer to it). I don’t think he ever says once that Porter killed him

[newvision]

Every time I drink wine I am will graham looking down at a shot hannibal and we have become each other and he is bleeding out and I am savouring the moment by drinking wine the way he does and I gloat like god often does and he takes the violence the way I did every time he violated me and he almost dies from a distant form of violence but what ultimately really kills him are my hands the way I said I’d do it anyway who wants another glass

[dnangelic]

last cap comparison but this panel is always so good to me because a) dark's absolutely evil anime villain face b) daisuke's dialogue talking about how dark's always there for him to completely offset that and c) dark's grip

[ace-and-ranty]

(STARING AT CEILING)

It’s just, you would NOT believe how feral and unhinged I became when Nico was confirmed gay in HoO, and the follow up was so, so, so disappointing.

[bylertruther]

me, gripping the bathroom sink so hard it hurts and staring at myself in the mirror: i'm not gonna write possessed!will every time. i am NOT going to write possessed!will every time. i am NOTTTTTTT! GOING! TO! WRITE! POSSESSED!WILL! i am GOING to write NORMAL, REGULAR FUNKY LITTLE SCRUNKLY GUY WILL for once! i am NOT going to write poss—

also me, as soon as i open literally any of my WIPs ever: haha sooooooo there's this incorporeal entityyyy / ghostttt.... 😌💅

[trans-leek-cookie]

Hm I'm not putting this in yhe main tags bc. Yeah but I'm blocking ppl who call the step mother hot

[andragoras-in-vanity]

i literally have anxiety about being single for fall again, i cant do this again and im still not living in nova scotia like im supposed to be and no one cares. my stomach literally is ripping itself apart because this fucking sucks and im touchstarved but im so sick of spineless little boys i cant even risk a hookup, which always make me feel like shit anyone like im cheating on someone ive never even met, and i dont know what to do about it, someone help please. in any way, just please help me.

[gl1tchxr]

hi so i heard that you have a tragic oc ending. Wellllll im listening :D

it's not really a tragic ending. everything (most everything) turns out ok despite some tragic stuff happening on the way there

(warning for gore/body horror)

Paradox always thought there was so much untapped potential to shapeshifting. sure, anyone with the right magic can change into whatever temporary form they want, but is there any way to make it permanent? to grow back parts of yourself you've lost? to achieve total control over your own body? to become functionally immortal?

he could never try it. not with this weak, flimsy magic afforded to him from his hometown. but now the magic of a god has bonded itself to his heart, and the possibilities open up.

the first trial was a success. all the venom from a snakebite that could kill in a matter of hours, cleansed from his body in a matter of minutes.

the second took some doing. the nasty gash over his face healed easy enough, but repairing the eye was a slow, agonizing process. all that matters is that it worked, in the end, despite the strain.

the third... well it's not really a trial anymore, is it?

it was the magic of a god that finally let him hone his craft. but anything divine is a commodity, and sooner or later someone would come for it. no matter how entangled it was inside him, no matter what collateral would have to be wrought, they would have what they came for. and they took it.

did he ever need divinity? could he become immortal with only the magic he had the whole time? he must somehow be already, he thinks, because his blood keeps running despite the gaping cavity of his chest.

[yourlovermumu]

sukuna literally can NOT fuck you slow and soft.

its not that he hates it. nor that he doesnt want to. its a lot more complicated than that.

sukuna always- always fucks you rough and fast.

thats how it has always been. but as a change of phrase, he once decided to try fucking you slow and soft. but to be honest its not like he choose to do so himself, he literally does not see the point in fucking you soft and slow when he can just blow your brains out. but he got curious. and when he happened to ask you one night, ''choose. want me to fuck you slow and soft or rough and fast? you have 5 seconds to make your choice.'' you had answered eagerly to be fucked slow and soft.

and he was willing to comply.

this night he had slipped his cock inside your tight little hole slowly. ever so slowly.

but he was already regretting agreeing to this. the moment your warm, wet, pussy wrapped around his thick cock he was already starting to lose reason. and he was barely half way in. but oh god how much he wanted to just slam his whole length inside of you in one go right than and there. but alas, he wouldn't. he did say he would give you a choice. and he wasnt about to go back on his word right now.

and in contrast to all the things going through his mind, he was holding up well enough. and after some agonizingly slow moments, he was finally all the way inside you. he couldnt help but curse under his breath, he was trying so, so hard to not just start pounding your pussy like a pathetic little fleshlight. oh, why did he subject himself to this torture?

he pulls his hips back slowly, and drives back in devastatingly slower than his used to. you let out a soft whimper in response. and thats when he makes his biggest mistake.

he looks up.

his ruby eyes locking with yours.

and immediately his eyes widen.

your brows are all furrowed and your lips pulled into a pout. in his eyes, he thinks you look like a sad puppy. an adorable puppy whimpering for more. he fucking groans. this isnt fair. why must you be so beautiful? why must you look at him that way? its as if you are begging him to fuck you stupid.

his cock twitches inside your pussy.

his hands grip your hips tightly.

and he pulls his own hips back, the movement is slow. but his following action is not, because next thing you know he is slamming you down on his cock. pounding your pussy like a madman as you moan and slip out protests from your mouth. but his not listening. he cant. and its your fault.

''...don't tell me to stop. t-take. it. this is your fault. so...hah..take. it. all.''